Page 25 of Forfeits

Aiden was thirty, bisexual and besides teaching English and music, he played guitar in a band, like Lucy had told me.

“That’s very cool.”

He laughed. “Well, we haven’t got a record deal or anything. It’s just me and some other teachers.”

“Still cool. Do you only play guitar?”

“I sing, too.”

“Backup?”

“Lead.”

“Really,” I said, completely charmed.

“Here,” he said, tapping on his phone and turning it to face me.

A video was playing. There was Aiden, standing at a microphone, playing his guitar and singing Sweet Caroline. I hadn’t realized he could look hotter than he did already, but this clinched it.

“The Tardy Boys? Seriously?”

He shrugged. “We’re all teachers.”

“Wow. Do you have groupies? You’re super-hot,” I said.

He laughed, putting the phone down. “No groupies.”

“Can I be one?”

He tilted his head, gazing at me like he was asking me to get naked right this minute. “Definitely.”

“I wish I had talent like that.”

“You said you’re a writer?”

I nodded. “Technically. I only write copy. I write what I’m told to write.”

He sat back. “Do you like doing what you’re told?”

The look in his eyes said he wasn’t talking about my writing.

“Most of the time. Yeah. It’s…easier.”

“I get that.”

I’ll bet you do.

“But did you ever write for yourself?”

Did I ever write for myself? I had. A long time ago, before Daniel, before Lucy.

“In high school I won a short story contest.” I’d almost forgotten. It had felt like such an accomplishment, but my parents had shrugged it off. And I had done the same.

“That’s amazing.”

“Yeah, but I could never write a novel or anything like that.”

“No? Have you tried? Do you even want to?”

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