concerts and ogling the sexy guys with their guitars like I did. What girl wouldn’t?
“Okay,” I said, playing along. “Tell me about them.” Her company and her enthusiasm were a buoy, keeping me afloat on a night when I otherwise would have been floundering in sadness and self-pity.
“The drummer is small, but cute like that actor from La La Land. The bassist is lanky but doable. Think Christian Bale from his performance in The Dark Knight. But the guitarist?” She fanned her face.
“Hot, huh?” I shook my head at her. She loved movies and often compared guys to actors.
“Hotter. Tallest of the bunch. Too good-looking to compare to any actor I’ve seen.”
“Whoa.” My eyes rounded. If she was at a loss, I was certainly very eager to see this paragon among men.
“Six foot one, maybe six-two. Shoulder-length light brown hair with a lot of wave to it. Full mustache and beard. Chiseled body like a Greek statue. Tatted arms and neck. The works.”
“Sounds dreamy.” And sounded like she’d done a thorough investigation. “You sure you don’t want to call dibs on that one?”
Before my dad had passed three years ago, I might have called dibs myself. In the days when my heart had been mostly intact and my time had been freer, one of my favorite things to do with Sophia was going out to see as many bands as we could in one night.
On those nights, which we’d dubbed Sophia’s and Lotus’s Musical Adventures, we chose the cutest guys in the best bands and flirted with them from the pit, and sometimes even went out with them. On one of those adventures, I met Saber. Well, I’d known who he was before that because he was Storm’s older brother. But we’d only started dating this past year.
Storm.
Just thinking his name collapsed my lungs. Even though it had been nine years since we’d parted ways and I had Sophia now, I still missed Storm. The closeness I’d had with him had never been duplicated with anyone else.
But that was over. It was in the past. Even his own family hadn’t heard from him in years. I needed to learn to let hurt go like Storm had told me to. I needed to let him go, needed to let the music heal me.
“No, he’s all yours,” Sophia said, and it took me a moment to remember who we were talking about.
Oh yeah. The paragon of men, the guitarist.
“Thanks, but I’m a little too busted up tonight to go for it—go for him. So I think I’ll pass.”
“C’mon, Lotus.” She pursed her lips. “It’s been too long since you let loose.”
She was right. I hadn’t relaxed since my father died and I’d become the sole guardian of my brother, Cork. But I couldn’t afford to . . . not with the responsibilities I had now.
Giving her a firm look, I shook my head. “I can’t let loose anymore.”
The steadying influence of Saber was one of the big reasons he held such appeal. He was the opposite of Sophia. With him, it was easier to bury the desire to be anyone but the responsible version of myself.
“You can let your hair down for one night.” Her brow furrowed as she took in my long, efficient work braid. “Fanny has Cork at Ash’s penthouse. He’s in a safe, protected environment. Probably safer there with all their security than your apartment. We’re miles away from home. No one knows us here. LA can be our Vegas. What happens in LA, stays in LA. You deserve an adventure. C’mon.”
She bumped my shoulder like Storm used to do when he was being playful. “We both deserve a little fun.”
“I just broke up with my boyfriend.” I experienced a heart spasm again just saying the words out loud. It made the situation seem a lot more permanent.
“No better time to have some harmless fun.” Sophia waggled her dark brows.
“I have work tonight.” My protest sounded weak, even to my own ears.
“You don’t have to work all night.”
Considering, I took another sip of my beer, staring at the stage rather than at her. I didn’t want her to see how much the breakup with Saber hurt, or how tempted I was to give in, to be carefree. It would be nice not to think about responsibilities and consequences, even if it was only for a night.
“You know I can’t,” I said, knowing it would be too hard to return to being responsible again. Gardening and my poems were the