Page 14 of Steady Stroke
The expectant tone of Dominic’s voice made Lincoln wonder how much Zelda had mentioned to her youngest son. Might as well distract him with the real reason for his call. “I need a loan.”
“Okay. You in some kind of trouble?”
He laughed out loud, and boy that felt good. “No, I’m fine. So to speak. I want to buy a QChord.”
“A what?”
Lincoln explained what he knew about the instrument, and also why he thought it might help ease him back into playing again. He probably talked too fast, nervous and excited all at the same time, and even a tiny bit scared Dominic might say no. “So?”
Dominic made a rough sound, and when he spoke again his voice was thick. “Damn, Linc, of course you can have the money. Whatever it costs.”
“Really?”
“Definitely. This is the first time since the accident that you’ve shown any interest in playing music again. You sound alive, man. I’ve missed that.”
Lincoln’s heart twisted, and his eyes stung a little at the emotion coming from his best friend. “You’re not crying, are you?”
“No. My eyes are sweaty because it’s hot down here.”
He grinned through his own threatening tears, because yeah. He wanted this more than almost anything. “Texas, right?”
“Hotter than Satan’s asshole, I’ll tell you.”
“Please don’t.”
Dominic cleared his throat. “So listen, go QChord shopping, then text me how much you need, and I’ll send it.”
“Are you sure?” Lincoln stared at the chalkboard wall and its psychedelic mash-up of names, drawings, and quotations, all of them blurring together as he dared to hope again. “It could be a few bills.”
“I. Will. Send. It.”
Gratitude and love swelled up fast and hard, and Lincoln swallowed several times to keep himself under control. “Thanks, Dom. I need this.”
“I know you do. You’ve still got so much music inside you, Linc. If a few hundred bucks helps you find that music again, it’s more than worth it.”
I’m not going to cry. I’m not going to cry. Nope.
Dominic must have been on a similar wavelength, because he totally brought in a topic change. “Roxy tells me you’re going out more. Hermit life no longer appealing?”
“Not really.” He started smiling over Melody’s easy charm and Emmett’s pretty, pale eyes. “It feels good not to be alone.”
A long, deep breath gusted over Dominic’s end of the call. “Sorry, man. I know you were looking forward to last week’s visit.”
Shit.“That wasn’t meant to be a guilt trip, I swear. Maybe you did me a favor. It was the kick in the ass I needed to stop moping around feeling sorry for myself.”
Dominic chuckled. “Then I guess I’m glad I could help, even if it was in kind of a roundabout way. So tell me about these new friends.”
He did, stupidly glad to have Dominic’s undivided attention for a little while longer. Dom got a kick out of his new gal pal, and then gently teased him about tomorrow’s outing with Emmett. None of the ribbing bothered Lincoln. He was determined tohave a good time with Emmett, even if that’s all it turned out to be—a good time between new friends. Casual sex was off the table, and no one would want to date a hot mess like him, anyway.
Friends are better than sex or a relationship. Friends are stable. Friends are all I need.
And if he told himself that over and over, for a little while longer, maybe he’d even believe it.
FOUR
Emmett Westmore staredat the stainless-steel prep table and its perfectly polished appearance, and totally failed at remembering what he was supposed to be doing. They were only open for another hour; the garnishes were full; he’d restocked the wells. He should probably clean something.
Only he couldn’t stop thinking about Lincoln West.
