and hearing it,” Suzie added, “it just plain sucks.”
I nodded with a pout. “It doesn’t help that I’m really, really attracted to Devlin.”
I lowered my voice, but the music must have stopped at that exact moment because I swore it echoed across the bar.
“What?” This was from Roxy, who had been glaring at a rugged looking biker in the corner. “When did this happen? I thought we were team Roddy.”
Gretchen said, “It’s okay to be attracted to multiple people at the same time.”
“I’m undecided on Roddy. It’s the attraction to Devlin that’s confusing. I feel weird about it. Especially if he only sees me as musical inspiration.”
Once Roddy had pointed it out, I couldn’t stop thinking about it. I had feelings for Devlin but what did he think about me? I didn’t know. We’d never talked about that.
“You think Devlin is using you?” Roxy asked. “Actually, he does remind me of another devilishly handsome biker we all know.”
“He who shall not be named,” Blithe said.
Gretchen waved her hand, waving away her comment. “Don’t forget Jethro had great taste. Look around you.”
We all nodded in agreement.
“He just wasn’t our person,” Suzie said shrugging.
“Right. Our person. Cause that’s a thing.” Roxy rolled her eyes. “Also, Devlin is the conductor of a symphony and a composer of music—he isn’t exactly riding with the Iron Wraiths and hocking drugs and women.”
“But he’s angry and …” I started.
“Challenging?” Gretchen asked sipping her drink.
“Yes. I dunno how it would even work between us.” I shook my head, clearing thoughts of Devlin. “Roddy says he wants the best for me. He puts everything out there.”
“How nice,” Gretchen said.
“Don’t do that,” I said. “Don’t rain on my parade. Not all men are evil.”
She held my gaze. “If you’re really happy and this is really what you want I, of course, support you.”
“Thank you,” I said.
“It just feels like you are trying to sell yourself as much as you’re selling us,” she added.
I frowned. I wasn’t explaining myself well if that was how I came across. “Roddy and I have so much history. He calls me Yo-Yo. It’s sweet.”
“He calls you Yo-Yo? That doesn’t sound fun,” Blithe said.
“After the famous cellist, Yo-Yo Ma,” I clarified. “He always has. It’s our thing.”
“He couldn’t think of any famous female cellists?” Gretchen asked.
I glared at her. “Can you name a famous female cellist?”
“I’m not in that industry,” she shot back.
“Also, am I allowed to ask something?” Blithe said. “Isn’t that vaguely racist? I know you have some Korean heritage and Yo-Yo Ma is Chinese-American but … you don’t think that’s why he calls you that, do you?”
“No. That would be …” I paused to think. “No. He wouldn’t. It’s only because he’s literally the only cello player most people know.”
But truthfully, now that she’d said it, the seed had been planted. I shook my head to find my previous convictions. “I just needed to talk through things with y’all. I’m still processing a lot of stuff. It’s all good.” I grinned widely to prove my point.
I looked at each of them and they smiled back. Except Gretchen—she stabbed at a cherry in her glass.
“I don’t want to sound crass,” Blithe said, “but can we back up a little? I feel like we grazed over the details of the shower incident too quickly. I need specifics. A rough sketch would be fine too.”
“You saw his dick?” Gretchen asked before sucking very suggestively on a straw.
“Yes,” I said.
“And all the things?” Roxy asked.
“Like balls? I mean, not in great detail. I was distracted, but I saw everything.” I took a deliberate amount of time to eat a fried pickle to avoid eye contact.
“What did it look like?” Roxy said.
“His penis?” Blithe blurted. Like she sneezed.
“Yes, his penis.” Roxy twisted her mouth to the side. “I didn’t want to say it, but now you’ve made it weird.”
Heat flamed my cheek. “Yes. It is weird. But I said it too. Repeatedly. An unhealthy amount actually.”
I waited for the other shoe to drop. I wouldn’t spill Devlin’s secret. It wasn’t mine to share, and I had no way to know how’d they react. What if they wanted me to get an autograph? I could only imagine the irritated expression on his face if I were to ask him such a thing.
Blithe frowned at a cheese stick. “I didn’t think anybody really liked to look at those things.”
“I’m neutral,” Gretchen said. “Some are nice.”
“Are we still talking about the penis?” I asked.
“I want to know about his body