Page 18 of Rim Shot Rebound

“You haven’t seen them yet.”

“I don’t have to. You’ve never written a crappy word or note as long as I’ve known you.”

He unscrewed the stand amid the awkward silence and stared at the cymbal, afraid to look at Kelsey. Afraid of her reaction, which was probably a combination of lingering past disappointment and future fears. If he looked at her, if he saw even a glimpse of that, he’d never go through with what he had planned today. What he was pretty sure they both needed. What their friendship needed. And their friendship was the most important thing now. As much as he wanted something more with her, he needed her to be comfortable with him again. He needed to earn her trust and friendship again. Nothing else would ever work if they couldn’t even get to that point.

So they worked together in silence, tearing down her kit and carrying it to her trunk. When everything was loaded, she was the one who broke the silence.

“So, I’ll meet you at your place?” Her voice faltered at the words your place. “Since you have the piano. Or do you want to go to a coffee shop or something and just work on lyrics today?”

He gave her a smile, putting in as much effort as he could to ensure it was open and inviting but relaxed. He probably looked like the Joker. “I have a better idea.”

“Somewhere else?”

“We can work later. Wherever you want. I’ve got something fun in mind first.”

Kelsey recoiled slightly. “Eric, I don’t know. I don’t want to give you the wrong idea right now.”

He tried to hide his disappointment. Still, even if she wasn’t ready to move forward with him, they needed this. “There’s been so much tension between us lately, so I want to fix that. I want to do something fun and relax so we can get back to being friends and work on this song. It’s never gonna come out right if we’re…” He waved his hands between them. “Like this.”

She opened her mouth to say something, then closed it and stared at him for a few seconds. It was the longest they’d made eye contact in weeks. Maybe months. He wanted to hold her gaze for as long as it took for her to believe him. To believe in him again.

Her strong shoulders released some of their tension. “What did you have in mind?”

His grin widened, and now he was sure he looked like the Joker. But he didn’t care. He was going to hang out with Kelsey. They were going to chill and have a good time and talk about things that weren’t them, and he was going to get back on the right track with her. He didn’t give a damn what his face looked like.

“It’s a surprise.”

 

* * * * *

 

Kelsey wondered where on earth Eric could be taking her. She was hesitant to be alone with him like this, but she wasn’t in a hurry to be in a room alone with him to write music either. A year ago, she’d have loved this whole process, but writing with Eric now was…complicated. He was right. A break and some fun would probably do them both good.

Still, she had no idea where they were going. They’d already eaten at the gig, and it was the middle of the afternoon on a Saturday, so probably not food-related. But the gig had been way out in the next town, and Eric was taking side roads instead of getting on the highway. They passed the movie theater. The batting cages they’d been to a few times were in the opposite direction. What the heck kind of fun were they going to have out here?

They turned onto a side road, and when she spotted the metal building on the right, her stomach sank to her toes then bounced back up to her throat like it was tied to a bungee cord.

No.

No, no, no.

Eric pulled into the tiny gravel parking lot in front of a little patio with cypress picnic tables. A few people hung around outside, enjoying the weekend sunshine and fresh air, while a couple were having a smoke off to the side.

Shit.

“Surprised?”

Kelsey swallowed the lump forming in her throat. “Yup. Definitely surprised.”

“I know how much you love tours. And I remember how you said you’d never been on a brewery tour.” Eric looked like an expectant cat who’d just dropped a dead mouse at her feet. A happy cat. A really handsome cat. But no matter how much she wanted to pet him and tell him he was a good boy, he was still a cat with a dead mouse.

“Yeah, I did say that, didn’t I?”

She got out of the car, and he grabbed his Panama from the back seat. He positioned it over his short hair with the high fade, and the cream color of the hat popped against his dark skin and the deep navy of his linen shirt with the sleeves rolled up.

“I’m sorry.” Confusion blanketed his face. “Was this a bad idea?”

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