Page 40 of The Brave and the Reckless (Bravetown #1)

We’re dancing under bright city lights

I still remember those small-town, big-dream nights

left that nowhere place, now here I found my spark

I will shine so bright

I will light the dark

E SRA

“This place is beautiful,” I said when I’d finished wandering around Adriana’s house and come back to the kitchen.

She didn’t want to play tour guide, but she’d allowed me to explore the bungalow by myself.

There wasn’t a single white wall in her home.

It was drenched in sunset colors, mossy greens and warm browns.

The furniture was all mismatched and covered in throws and fabrics.

Instead of bright overhead LEDs, it was lit up by cozy fairy lights and vintage table lamps with colorful glass shades.

Suncatchers dangled in every window, reflecting rainbow prisms everywhere, and outside, lush flowerbeds bloomed around the entire house.

“Thanks,” Adriana said. “My mom’s the one with the green thumb. ”

“Does she live here, too?” I asked and glanced around for any sign of a parent living here. Not that I knew what to look for. The main trace my parents left behind was spotless minimalism.

“No, over there.” She pointed her spatula at the window, toward a twin bungalow, separated from this one by hedges and trees.

It couldn’t be more than a three-minute walk from door to door, but it felt like just enough distance for some privacy.

“My record deal wasn’t massive, but it paid for these places, so that’s pretty cool. ”

She shrugged as if that wasn’t a big deal, so I wrapped my arm around her shoulder and squeezed.

“Yeah, that is pretty cool, Adriana.”

“Thanks.” She grimaced and rolled her shoulders out of my embrace. “I’m trying to cook here.”

“Do you have a problem with affection?”

“No,” she scoffed, very focused on poking at the risotto in the pan, “I’m hella affectionate.”

“Uh-huh.” I grinned and grabbed one of the wine glasses she’d set out.

Getting to know Adriana was like getting to know Shrek.

Or peeling an onion. Layers. Lots of layers.

I wasn’t sure if she’d always been this opposed to letting people get close to her or if that was a side-effect of being the town’s black sheep, but she was worth being patient with.

She’d been nothing but kind and supportive since the day I got here.

Case in point: inviting me to dinner because I was either eating at the saloon or surviving on pasta and cereal.

“And while we’re on the topic, who are you getting all affectionate with, huh?”

“I wouldn’t exactly call it affectionate. ”

“Down and dirty?” she asked.

“More like it.” I weighed my head from side to side.

Being with Noah wasn’t unaffectionate either.

Earlier today we had spent our entire seven minutes making out like teenagers.

No orgasms at all. Just giggles and kisses.

And in the little privacy we managed to carve out, a minute in the kitchen, or a moment when I got out of the bathroom and he got in, we brushed hands, and he told me I was beautiful, and I asked him about his day– and genuinely cared about his answer, too.

In some ways, I was grateful that those affections were short-lived.

I wasn’t sure if I could compartmentalize our thing as easily otherwise.

We were just hooking up. Colleagues with benefits.

The way my stomach fluttered when he looked at me from across the room was just physical attraction.

He was hot, and he was good in bed, and he was likable enough. That was all.

It had to be all.

If it wasn’t, then I’d have to start considering Sinan’s plea not to mess up his life here. Or the fact that summer was already in full swing and I’d be leaving soon. Or that I had no idea what I’d be leaving for, or where I’d go.

So … nope.

Compartmentalizing.

Noah and I were just having sexual, sneaky, totally meaningless fun.

“Hello-ho?” Adriana snapped her fingers in front of my face, rings and bracelets jingling. “Earth to Esra.”

“Sorry.” I shook my head to clear it. “What?”

“God, I miss having the kind of sex that scrambles your brain like that. ”

“I’m sure Lucas would volunteer if you mentioned it in front of him,” I said as I accepted the plate that she must have been holding out in front of me for a while.

“I’ve known Lucas since he wet his pants in kindergarten.

He was the one who pointed out that I had a massive stain on my jeans when I first got my period on a class trip.

There is no universe in which I could forget those things long enough to let him in my pants.

” Adriana faked a shudder and sat down at the small dining table with four mismatched chairs around it.

“Besides, brain-scrambling sex requires more than just sex.”

“Please enlighten me,” I laughed.

“You need someone you trust enough to take you right to the edge of your comfort zone. That’s where your brains get scrambled.” She narrowed her eyes at me and I could practically hear the cogs turning inside her mind. “It’s not Daddy Mayor, is it? You know Richard’s married, right?”

“Ew, Adriana,” I moaned around a forkful of delicious risotto.

“What? He’s hot, you work with him every day and you both have a hard-on for trivia. It was a valid assumption.”

“He’s like twice our age.”

“Yeah, but he parties like he’s in his twenties. And he’s hot. Don’t pretend he isn’t.”

“Ew,” I repeated and scrunched my nose up at her. “At least now we know the real reason you won’t ever hook up with Lucas. You have daddy issues.”

“Can’t have daddy issues if you don’t have a dad.” She rolled her eyes at me as if I was ridiculous– and clearly to cover up the little layer she’d just peeled back for me. “Fine. I’ll stop guessing. As long as you promise me he isn’t married. ”

“He isn’t married.”

“Hmm.” She chewed and tipped her head from side to side. “Big dick?”

“Yes,” I laughed.

“Good for you.”

“We should sign you up for a dating app.” I reached across the table to grab her phone, but she snatched it away.

“Hell, no. I don’t need all the tourists passing through the saloon to see my bikini thirst traps when they open Tinder. I’ll just live vicariously through you until some hot older man from out of town comes around and whisks me off my feet.”

After dinner, we spread out on the thick carpets on her living room floor.

Adriana had one of those record players that looked like a little suitcase, and she played me her favorite country albums, musing about lyrics and chords and musical influences.

I followed some of her explanations, but I mostly let my mind wander while my eyes roamed the pictures on the wall, of her on various stages and with various musicians.

She was so young in some of those pictures, cheeks still round and her curly mane much shorter.

“Do you have a plan?” I asked, interrupting her monologue about Dolly Parton.

“What do you mean?”

“Did you give up on music? On all this?” I gestured at the wall of pictures. “Or are you just taking a break?”

Adriana’s shoulders tightened and her lips flattened into a thin line.

I thought she wouldn’t answer, keeping all those layers wrapped tightly around herself, but she heaved a deep sigh instead.

“Making music always felt right. It made me feel safe. And then it didn’t anymore.

” She vaguely nodded toward the guitar stashed in the corner of the room, wedged between the sofa and the wall. “I can’t touch it.”

“Do you want to?”

“Not right now.” She smoothed her hand over the vinyl sleeve in her lap. “But I know that I don’t want to be a small-town music teacher who plays the open mic night circuit. Maybe it’s juvenile not to settle, but I loved touring and playing for big crowds and working with insanely talented people.”

“No, I get that.” I nodded. “I don’t want to work for big pharma just to sort of be in the medical field.”

“If I never touch my own guitar again, I might become a sound tech. Or a producer. Or something else that tickles the same spot for me. I just don’t want my hometown to still hate me when I do.”

“I think people are warming up to you.”

“One drink at a time,” she agreed and tipped her glass at me. She took a long sip before she launched back into her declaration of love for Dolly Parton. Apparently, this was all the heartfelt conversation I’d get out of her tonight.

After another glass of wine and a deep dive into musicians who started out by playing in honky-tonks, Adriana produced a variety of long fruits and vegetables from the kitchen, trying to get me to find the closest size-match to Noah.

I ate the banana and questioned how on earth a butternut squash was supposed to fit.

She just laughed and ended up carrying the squash around for the rest of the night.

She didn’t get an actual answer from me though.

The rest of the night passed in a happy blur, but my thoughts kept circling back to her words. She could see herself doing something that tickled the same spot as making music.

Playing Annie Lou was fun. It even came with its own sense of fulfillment, but it didn’t give me the same purpose that medicine had.

There were some parallels when I boiled it down to making a person feel better, whether that was a patient or a park visitor, but I wanted more than that.

I wanted to make a real difference in people’s lives.

Adriana shrieked and my gaze snapped to the squash that had exploded at her feet. “Not my Grammy.”

“Grammy? I thought it represented a massive dick.”

“No, I decided it was a Grammy ten minutes ago,” she giggled. “Keep up.”

“Guess you do have to go back to making music, so you can win another one.”

“Meh.” She shrugged. “I can just buy another one in the veggie aisle. Ooh, we should go to the store. We can find you a vegetable, too. It can be an Oscar. Or a Tony. Or a Nobel— why are all the awards named after men? That’s so sexist.”

“I’m good,” I laughed. “And there’s the Emmy.”

“Okay. Yes.” She clapped her hands together, then turned and grabbed the cucumber off the counter. “The winner of the primetime Western Country Theme Park category is Esra Taner, for her breathtaking performance as Annie Lou.”

My balance wavered a little as I got up and accepted the cucumber with a gracious smile and a small nod. “Thank you. Thank you. I have to thank the Academy, and also my best friend Adriana. Adriana, if you’re watching this at home, it’s time for bed. ”

“Watching this at home?” she scoffed. “I’m your plus one.”

“No, you’re not. If I’m going to the Emmys, I’m taking No— Nobody; I mean, someone to have crazy ballgown bathroom sex with during the commercial break.

” I was not going to worry about how Noah’s name had almost slipped from my tongue.

I had definitely not automatically imagined him in a hot three-piece suit, walking the red carpet with me. Nope.

“Ugh. Fine. Commence your speech.” Adriana rolled her eyes at me but couldn’t keep down a big smile. “You were just about to tell the world what an awesome friend I am.”

I’d think about making a difference later.

Having fun was good enough for now.