More Than Maybe - Erin Hahn Page 0,43

“He says heroin messes with your pecker.”

Phil barks out a laugh. “I’m sure I have footage somewhere. I’ll dig around for it. It’s worth watching.”

The crowds start to filter in, and Phil and I cover the bar in equal parts. I watch him interact. Even though I’m available, most people wait to catch Phil’s eye. He’s the legend. They came for him as much as they came for the beer and Big Ten basketball.

And I can see why. He’s easy like his bar. Comfortable. Genuine as fuck. It’s the most unsettling-slash-settling thing I’ve ever encountered.

I wonder what the footage he has of my dad performing will look like. I honestly can’t imagine it. My dad stopped being a punk rocker long before we came along. The Charlie Greenly I know wears his seat belt and goes to wine tastings and plays Mario Kart. I’ve heard some of his music, and it’s good. Really good. Raw and edgy and heartfelt.

I inherited more than my blond hair from him. The pressure of what could be weighs on my chest so heavily, I feel short of breath. It’s not that I don’t want to create music. I do. I just can’t perform it live. It’s too personal. Cullen interrupting my songwriting the other night felt like a straight-up violation.

No. I couldn’t do it. Play my own words in front of an audience? I can’t think of anything I’d hate more.

16

VADA

It’s unseasonably warm when Phil shoos me out of work early Saturday night. I’m not on the schedule anyway, and I suspect he’s feeling extra generous after I hooked him up with Luke. Luke’s so diligent, he’s putting the rest of us to shame. The first time they worked together, Luke kept calling Phil “Mr. Josephs” to all our great amusement. Phil let him for a good hour and a half before I intervened.

“Go.” Phil swats in my direction. “Get into trouble. Be a kid.”

I wipe my hands on a clean rag. “Really?” I ask even as I’m untying my apron strings.

“Really. But don’t get arrested. Mary would definitely blame me.”

I reach for the tip jar and dump it out behind the bar, counting out my share and shoving it in my back pocket before I reach for my phone and tap out a text to Meg.

VADA

Off early. Where are you?

MEG

Around the corner. Fly Fishing doc at Michigan Theater. *eyeroll*

Yikes. Meg’s social life is even worse than mine.

VADA

Can you escape?

MEG

Be there in five.

“Night, Phil!”

“Text your mom!” he shouts back, and in response, I wave over my head and shove through the back door, nearly smacking Luke in the face.

“Gah! Sorry!”

He laughs, surprised. “My fault. I wasn’t watching.”

He’s wearing a jean jacket, and the denim does ridiculous things to his gray-blue eyes, making them pop, even behind his frames. “Are you working?”

He shakes his head. “Nah, I’m picking up my check. And tips from last night. I forgot to grab my share, and Phil saved it from Kazi.”

“Ah,” I say, leaning a hip against the door. “Yeah, you gotta watch him. His dreads hide secrets.” I turn to see Cullen and Zack standing behind Luke. “Coming in for a job, too? I’m on a roll for recruitment these days.”

Cullen shakes his head. “I don’t do manual labor. Germs make me nervous.”

Zack rolls his eyes and reaches out his hand. “I don’t think we’ve officially met. Zack Granger.”

I shake his giant hand and tilt my head, looking up at him. “You’re even more enormous in real life.” Zack is handsome in a classic way. Tall, tanned skin, prominent Adam’s apple, well built. And yeah, really tall. Zack appears stretched out and about three years older than the rest of us.

“I get that a lot.”

“It’s a compliment. You carry it well.”

“He does, doesn’t he? Not an inch wasted,” Cullen says, looking his boyfriend up and down. Zack beams at the attention. It’s adorable. I don’t know when Zack came out as gay. It’s like one day he was there, holding Cullen’s hand in the hallway and kissing him after school and it just looked right. What he was wasn’t definitive. He was just Cullen’s, and Cullen was his.

“Anyway,” Luke says, clearing his throat. “D’you just get off? I mean, did you finish? With work? Are you done with your shift?”

Cullen mutters something under his breath, and Luke turns red, shoving him away.

I decide not to comment on the slipup, even as my own face grows hot. “Yeah. Phil let me off early. I was actually just meeting—”

“Me!