Page 14 of Love Song, Take Two

Sadie Harlow was the risk-taking, hair color changing, living life on the edge friend. As a fashion photographer, she traveled the world and met some of the most beautiful people. She took life by the balls at every opportunity, following her passions and heart, instead of focusing on making ‘good choices’. Micah and Tatum were convinced that half of the fashion industry had their hearts broken by Sadie and her love ‘em and leave ‘em mentality. That evening, Sadie’s long hair was bright pink and split into two thick braids that fell down her back. Even though she had access to all the makeup people in the industry, Sadie never wore anything; the most she swiped on was gloss.

Tatum Faulks was the more focused and serious of the three, as well as an indie music producer. Tatum shook off her famous family name to set up her own record label and then took on local musicians and helped them produce their albums. Curvy and sassy, Tatum had wavy dark brown hair that always magically had beach waves. She also rarely wore makeup, but when she took the time, Tatum’s beautiful golden eyes were always highlighted as were her plump lips. Most of the light she had when they were teenagers was gone, thanks to the work of her ex-husband who destroyed Tatum bit by bit over the course of their marriage.

Heartbreak had rocked all three of them a few times over the past few years, but there was very little in the world that could destroy the friendship they’d built as kids.

“Okay, so he lives here now?”

“Yup. Seemed to know Hank well enough that the old man gave him his music store.”

Tatum pursed her lips in thought. “Sirena’s not that big that you’d never see each other.”

“He said he’s only been here permanently for a few months,” Micah said and then shrugged. “And something about how he’s a hermit these days?”

Sadie groaned loudly. “I’m glad we’re doing this, but that reminds me that we haven’t had a Slutty Saturday in a long time.”

“Focus, slut. We’ve got bigger things to sort through,” Tatum snapped, poking Sadie in the thigh with her foot. Turning back to Micah, she nodded. “Go on, we’re listening.”

Micah took a big gulp of her wine, needing a few minutes to gather her thoughts before telling them how Fletcher looked when he thought Emery was his. In some weird way, Micah wished he was the father, because Emery’s life would have been so different. Better. At the same time, maybe their magical one night would not have translated into a magical forever.

“He asked if Em was his,” she finally said, twirling her glass for something to do. Silence stretched around her and Micah lifted her head to find her friends staring at her. “She’s not!”

Tatum and Sadie exchanged a glance before nodding. “Why would he ask that?”

“By the end of the night, we didn’t have any condoms, so we fucked without.”

“Whoa,” Sadie mumbled, eyes wide.

“It was already the best sex of my life, and somehow it was even better bare?” Micah sighed and took another sip of her wine. “But the next morning, I got the pill and erased any chance of me being pregnant. Not because I didn’t want that with him, because I did. I was completely obsessed with him for days after that, remember? If I was pregnant with his kid, it would have brought us back together. But I was twenty-two and not ready to be a mom.”

Her friends were still staring at her, wine glasses untouched. She rolled her eyes and nudged them both gently. “I thought I was in love with him, but falling in love because the sex was good? Ridiculous.”

“You never told us that.”

“That I might have been in love with Fletcher? Come on. I practically followed them on tour for three weeks because I was borderline obsessed with him.”

“But like a fan. Everyone was obsessed with The Rescuers back then,” Tatum added, then pointed at herself. “I wanted to climb Jack Rush like a fucking tree and might have if we weren’t so late to meet everyone else for drinks.”

Micah smiled at the memory. Sadie and Tatum had joined her for the first night of their East Coast tour—before Micah hitched rides with anyone who had room in their cars. They’d been so close to the stage that when Jack, the lead singer of The Rescuers, dropped to his knees to belt out the chorus for their biggest hit, Tatum had handed him her bra. That was also the first night she caught Fletcher watching her.

“So…does seeing him again bring back any of those feelings?”

“No. Maybe. I don’t know.” Micah finished her wine and got up to refill her glass. “He’s so hot, though. Like, he was this grungy, awkward drummer back then. Now?” She whistled and shook her head.

Micah had never thought much of men with long hair, but he made it look so fucking good. His once shaggy hair now fell to his shoulders, with silver streaked through perfectly. There was even gray at the temples and peppered through his well-groomed beard. It framed his mouth and jaw so beautifully, it took everything in Micah not to stare at his pink lips for too long. He was also no longer lanky; Fletcher stood tall with his shoulders pushed back, drawing her attention to his broad form. Even under his clothes—a dark gray T-shirt paired with a plaid shirt and jeans—she could tell that he had some muscles. The thing that really rocked her were the black framed glasses he’d been wearing that day. Killed her.

“Ooookaaaaaaay,” Sadie said, dragging out the vowels with a wicked grin. “Maybe you two need to fuck and see what happens. Sometimes the best kind of magic comes from when you say ‘fuck it’ and remind yourselves of what you once had.”

“Nope.”

“Why not?”

“I’m not dating these days.” Tatum snorted and Sadie guffawed, making Micah frown as she glanced at her friends. “What?”

“Nobody said anything about dating. I said fucking. If the sex made you feel like you were in love with him, made you walk funny for days and was good enough that you skipped condoms…do it again,” Sadie told her, earning an approving hum from Tatum.

“What if fucking him makes me fall in love with him again?”

“Well, that’s something to deal with if it happens,” Tatum said.

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