Page 23 of Forget Me Not

Romeo starts up, strumming his guitar and singing about his lost love and how beautiful she is. If I was someone who cared, which I’m not, I would say it’s a good song. If you’re into that sort of shit. And if someone named Crusty wasn’t singing it.

Nova looks absolutely mortified, like she might dissolve into a puddle on the floor and I can’t help but snicker.

Serves her right. Fucking with my head and shit.

“Boats in the harbor, fish in the sea, oh, carry my love home to me . . .”

“Not very original, is it?”

“Stop.”

I hadn’t realized I’d said it out loud, but when I peek at Nova, she’s peeking at me and she shakes her head, turning back to the stage. Still, there’s a glimmer of humor there that wasn’t there before.

“I’m guessing he doesn’t realize you’re just friends?”

No response to that question.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” I chuckle.

As soon as Crusty’s done putting everyone to sleep, the crowd erupts in cheers for the local Johnny Cash. He grins ear to ear, thanking everyone and tipping his hat like he’s at the Grand Ole Opry and not Tom’s in dusty little Port Nova.

When he makes his way across the room, guitar in hand, I can practically feel the hostility rolling off Nova.

“What did you think?” he asks, stopping in front of her.

“You sang really well,” she says, but the underlying tone of I’m going to murder you makes it lack enthusiasm.

“You did so good,” Katelyn beams and if I didn’t know any better, I’d say Katelyn is more apt to take Crusty up on his offer than Nova ever will be.

Good.

“If you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go get another drink.”

Before any of us can say anything, Nova’s up and storming to the bar without a glance back. In my head, she should have told him to stop fucking around. If she doesn’t want love songs written about her from the boy with the carrot-colored hair, maybe she should actively work to stop it.

But . . . she’s told me herself, she’s afraid of hurting his feelings.

Not me, though.

“Is she okay?” Crusty asks, looking to Katelyn, but I slide right in.

“I think it’s safe to say she’s embarrassed.”

Katelyn’s face goes beet red, but she doesn’t say anything. Crusty hangs his head for a moment and his eyes find Nova. That lovesick puppy dog look.

Jesus Christ.

“Crusty, why don’t we dance?” Katelyn interjects just as Tara and Manto arrive back to the table from God knows where.

“Uhh . . .” Crusty stammers more than a middle schooler at his first dance. “Yes, ma’am.”

They leave the table, and Manto turns to me, curious.

“What was that about?”

I just shake my head. “Be happy you missed it.”

He chuckles, wrapping his arm around Tara’s back. “We’re going to head out. Can you make sure Nova gets home safe?”

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