of dark red. Grace shook herself mentally, determined to get her blushing issues under control. Her complexion lately was bipolar—white or red. It couldn’t be some nice complementary shade in between.
Successful at avoiding Quentin’s inquisitive gaze yet again, she took the drink and mumbled a thank-you. When she looked up, she noticed that Emily and Tommy were gaping at him. She swung her gaze to Quentin, taking in how the contrast between his gray eyes against his raven hair was startling in this lighting, amplifying his features. That’s right, she thought with an internal snicker, he is quite easy on the eyes.
“Guys, this is Quentin. Quentin,” she said, swiveling back to them, “this is my friend, Emily. And that’s her boyfriend, Tommy.”
Quentin smiled and reached out to shake Tommy’s hand. Emily’s face twisted conspiratorially, and Grace winced inside. Here we go!
“So, this is your grandfather’s friend, huh?” Tommy paused with his hand in midair.
“Uh, yep.”
If Emily mentioned she’d told her that he was insanely hot, she would die on the spot.
Her best friend’s face widened with a sly grin. From somewhere behind Emily’s back, Grace could practically feel a light breeze from the fluttering of Emily’s cupid wings. Her best friend was not only a drama queen, she was an incorrigible matchmaker.
The only sure way to be certain that “hot” wasn’t in Emily’s next sentence was to divert attention elsewhere. “Tommy,” Grace interjected a little too enthusiastically. “Emily was right. You guys are great!”
“You really think so?” Tommy’s eyes lit up and let his breath out in a whoosh.
“Absolutely.”
“Seriously, man,” Quentin said, finally shaking Tommy’s hand. “Your band is really good.”
Quentin eyed Grace and gave her a private wink. Smiling on the outside but giggling on the inside, she was glad her non-promise of awesome music was delivered, and even more thankful she was able to divert Emily’s attention away from matchmaking.
Before long, Tommy’s band was due back onstage. He dropped a quick peck on Emily’s cheek, then made his way back to the stage to rejoin the band. Grace kept a watchful eye on the groupies as she felt her phone buzz. She pulled it from her purse and flinched at the name displayed on Caller ID. After avoiding her mom all day, Grace sighed, knowing she should probably bite the bullet and call her back.
“My mom keeps texting and calling. I’m going to slip outside real quick and call her back,” she said to Quentin and Emily.
Emily’s focus stayed on the stage. “I’ll be right here.”
Like she’d be anywhere else?
“Do you want me to go outside with you? It’s pretty dark out there now.” Quentin leaned in close, concern etched on his features.
“No, I’ll only be a few minutes.”
Grace made her way back through the crowd and ran the gauntlet through the front door loiterers, doing her best not to touch anyone as she passed. She pushed out the front door, thankful for the cool night air that met her overheated face. She turned down the sidewalk and walked briskly. Once she made it to the corner a couple of buildings down, it sounded like she might be far enough away from the throbbing music to be able to hear.
“Grace?”
“Hi, Mom.”
“Are you alright? I’ve been trying to get a hold of you all day. I was starting to really worry about you.”
Worry? That would be a first.
“I’m fine. Just hung out at Grandpa’s for a while. I’m at Latté Da’s listening to Tommy’s band now.”
Laney paused. “What time will you be home?”
“Not sure. Not too late, I have school in the morning.” Grace switched the phone to her other ear as she swept her gaze up and down the dark, deserted street.
“Oh…alright.” Her mother sighed. “I’ll see you when you get home then.”
“Okay. Bye.”
“Bye, honey.”
Honey? Grace pulled the phone from her ear to stare at it, her mouth open in disbelief. Has hell frozen over, she asked herself, and I just didn’t get the memo? She disconnected the call and dropped her phone back in her purse, then pivoted toward the coffee shop. A slight scraping noise caught her attention, and she was startled by someone perched against the building behind her—one foot propped on the brick wall, thumbs leisurely hooked in his belt loops. She gasped and slapped a hand to her chest, quietly trying to find the breath she’d lost.
“Hey, you okay?” He moved out from under the shadow of the building’s awning, letting the moon’s luminosity shine down to unveil his face.
And what a face!
Grace