Page 32 of The Music of Us
Jake turned to look at me. I couldn’t see his eyes through his dark shades but I assumed they were not amused, and I smirked back.
“He’ll be fine, Amber,” I told her. “Thanks.”
“Oh, he’s with you?” Amber asked, scrutinizing Jake. “Whoishe?” She squinted. “You look sort of familiar, actually.”
“That’s because he’s a wanted criminal,” I answered. Amber was going to find out the truth sooner or later, but that didn’t mean I couldn’t tease Jake first. “You’ve probably seen his mugshot. He stole a Monet to pay off his outstanding NASCAR bets.” I sent him a look over my shoulder. “Isn’t that right, Sylvester?”
“Mmm.” Unflustered by his new backstory, Jake turned his back to Amber, took off his glasses, and inspected the café. “I never should have based all my racing knowledge onMario Kart.”
“Well, you live and you learn, right?”
Amber leaned over the counter, propping herself up on her elbows. “I know that’s a lie. You know how I know?”
“Not because of our carefully constructed backstory?”
“No, because if Sylvester here wasreallya wanted criminal,he’d be tied up to a bike rack right now. You’d have sold him out for reward money without thinking twice.”
“Oh, that’s true.”
Jake placed his hand over his heart. “Ouch. Did our old friendship mean nothing to you?”
Did it mean anything toyou?
“Wait.” Amber made a motion between us. “You two are friends?”
Jake watched me carefully, like he was waiting for me to say something. I stared back, daring him to answer first.
“Used to be friends,” Jake said.
“Mmm,” I hummed, tilting my head. “More like acquaintances.”
“She was a classmate,” Jake offered.
“He was a customer,” I countered.
We held each other’s gaze like two duelers at sword-point, our blades crossed and eyes locked, not wanting to back down first. Whatever easy rhythm we’d fallen into at the thrift shop had gone, and the tension returned, noticeably taut and twice as strong.
We both could’ve stuck withfriends, but the word seemed too simple to cover the history between us and how close we once were.
But it also seemed too far from where we stood right now, after four years of not speaking.
“Oh.” Amber deflated a bit, disappointed. “I thought maybe you were on a date. You haven’t brought a guy around since Ryan. I was kind of hoping you met up with that cute guy who came in here and gave you his number last week. You seemed to hit it off.”
Not really. I’d just tried my hardest to sell him a croissant because I was freaking out about whether we’d have enough money for our next cat supply order.
But Amber’s comment caught Jake’s attention for some reason.
“What cute guy?” he demanded. “You didn’t—”
He stopped abruptly.
I arched a brow. “What? Did you really think that—”
A melody caught my attention.
Oh. I grimaced.That’swhy Jake got distracted mid-sentence.
While we’d been arguing, the song playing in the café had faded out and another all too familiar one had begun in its place.
