Page 32 of Love Song, Take Two

Thanks to Harriet’s suggestion, they’d found a local hole in the wall that served all of the greasy food one could eat. The place didn’t have a sign board or more than four tables and while that would usually concern him, Micah making a beeline for the last empty table was enough of a sign that it was where they were eating. A youngster with multiple piercings approached their table and rattled off the specials, then turned to Fletcher with wide eyes.

“You’re Fletcher Kelley.”

“Best drummer in the world,” Micah supplied with a grin and the youngster nodded, flipping their order pad over and holding it out to him. “Would you also like a picture together?”

“Yes, please. I’m sorry, Mr. Kelley, could I get your autograph? I don’t mean to lose my shit, but you’re like…the coolest person to ever visit us.”

Fletcher was glad his beard hid most of his blush, but he signed the pad and leaned in for a photograph. With shaky hands, they took down the order for food and hurried off, leaving Fletcher and Micah alone.

“Who would have thought a small town like Sirena Beach would be filled with your biggest fans?”

“Not me,” he grumbled and leaned forward as Micah did, their arms bumping on the table. “It’s surreal that people know who I am.”

“You might have sat behind the drums for years, Fletch, but you’re fucking famous for being so good at what you do. And also for being the most down to earth musician of your time.”

Shaking his head, he dropped his eyes to their arms. When he was young, he wanted to be a famous musician. When he joined The Rescuers, he wanted to make music that he loved. Now in his forties, he simply wanted to exist and maybe even love the woman sitting across from him. It would never not blow his mind that people recognized him or claimed he inspired them to start playing the drums. And to have Micah look at him the way she did, it was icing on the cake that was his life.

Their drinks—bright pink lemonade for Micah and a ginger ale for him—were set on the corner of the small table and the youngster scurried off. Micah chuckled at his confused expression and he shook his head, not bothering to understand how that kid, who was definitely too young to have heard his music, knew who he was.

Pulling his glass towards him, he leaned back to look at Micah. “So, conditions.”

“Right.” She took a long pull of her drink, eyes screwing up briefly before she blinked them open to focus on him. “Emery is my priority. I haven’t dated a lot because I don’t want to introduce someone into her life and have them walk away like her father did. I know things with us might be different, but I don’t want to assume that it’s all going to be smooth sailing.

“She already knows that we’ve met before, that we have history, but I’d like for us not to put our relationship on display around her,” Micah explained, twirling her straw and he nodded. “I want us to give this a shot, Fletch, but I don’t want to give Emery hope yet.”

“I get it, Mick. I won’t make promises, but you are important to me and in that line, I don’t want to hurt Emery either.”

Micah nodded, her eyes searching his. “We can’t sneak around my house, but anywhere else is fair game. No kissing or excessive touching when she’s around. As far as Emery is concerned, we’re friends.”

He didn’t like the idea of their relationship being a secret, but he could also see why she wanted to be careful. Clearly her ex had hurt her in ways that would take years to heal. Between marrying Micah out of obligation and abandoning his kid, Fletcher hated the man. While he had no guarantee of how long this relationship with Micah would last, he would show up for Emery every time she needed him.

“I can do that,” he told her, flipping a hand over. When she put her hand in his, Fletcher smiled. “This means you’ll have to spend more time at my house or you know, we can run away on the weekends.”

“I definitely want to see how a former rockstar lives now.”

“In a house that was once owned by his favorite uncle,” he told her and she snorted loudly, playfully smacking his hand.

Their food arrived and after some more fumbling and mumbling, he learned that their waitstaff was named Pia and she had been raised on music by The Rescuers. That her father had once been a drummer and considered Fletcher the best of the best. After signing something else for her father, Pia thanked him and then ran away. The whole time, Micah sat there and watched him with a smug smile on her lips and Fletcher realized that she was right—he needed to accept that once upon a time he was good enough that people flew all over the world to see him and his band perform.

“Was there ever a Mrs. Kelley?”

Fletcher jerked back at the question and stared at her for a long moment. They’d talked actively about her ex but he’d never been interested in talking about Alice. He should have known that she’d ask.

“Uh, she never took my name, but for a bit.”

Micah nodded, eating crinkle fries one at a time. “What was she like?”

“We don’t need to do this, Mick.”

“Of course we do. You know all about Geoffrey and what an asshole he was. Besides, we’re now a couple and I want to know about you.”

We’re a couple, he thought to himself giddily and watched her for a long moment. “Can’t we talk about our favorite ice cream flavor and best movie ever made instead?”

“Fletch.”

“Fine,” he groaned. “Alice and I met through some friends during a break. A lot like you, she didn’t care that I was an award-winning musician or that I was going through a weird looking phase. We uh…it was good at first, then it got boring and we finally realized that maybe we were better off not married anymore.”

“I’m sorry, Fletch.”

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