Page 20 of Fractured Rhythm

I couldn’t stop thinking about my brother these days. He was always with me, in the back of my mind, but knowing the guys were in town, seeing Bash, brought up everything again. Grief was a funny thing. I thought I was doing better, but it creeped up on you any chance it got.

I couldn’t let it suck me down. I wouldn’t.

I picked up my coffee, took a large sip, and looked around the café. It was still decently early for a Sunday, and the place wasn’t totally full. The bell above the door chimed as someone walked in. I choked and quickly set the cup down on the glass tabletop. The noise startled me, but I couldn’t look away.

He turned at the sound, his eyes meeting mine.

What the fuck was Bash doing here? At my little café?

I still wasn’t ready for the conversation he clearly wanted to have.

BASH

“Is this seattaken?”

I didn’t miss her sigh or the fact that she didn’t look up, and I hesitated. I probably should’ve waited for her to be ready to come to me, but I was too impatient.

“Seriously, Bash, are you stalking me?”

She finally lifted her head, exasperation in her hazel eyes. At least that was better than the anger and sadness they’d held at the bar the other night.

“Of course not,” I said, pushing back my sweat-soaked hair. I’d gotten up early this morning and needed to clear my head with a run. I was proud of myself for not immediately pouring a glass of whiskey. Tristan’s expression when he saw the empty bottles in my apartment yesterday was enough to give me pause.

That had to count for something, right?

“How are you here, then? At my favorite café? Did Jax tell you about it? I know they’re in town.”

“How often do you talk to Jax?” I hadn’t gotten a clear read on the situation when Jax had mentioned he’d kept in touch with her. I shouldn’t be jealous of Jax. Cassie would never go for the showboater. But I was envious. He was a part of her current life, and I wasn’t. He knew firsthand about all the little things that I’d only heard in passing—or not at all. I hated that I was so far out of the loop with her. With everything.

“Every so often. Maybe weekly. At least twice a month. I don’t know.” She paused, glaring at me. “Now, answer the damn question. You’ve shown up at that dive bar twice when I’ve been there, and now you’re here.”

“To be fair, I was already at the bar the first time you walked in. It’s not like I can predict the future.” The first night had been pure coincidence—the second time, not so much. But I wasn’t going to tell her I staked out the bar hoping she’d show up again.

“The question, Bash. Answer the damn question.”

Her cheeks blazed bright pink. I’d missed that fire more than anything, even if she was pissed at me.

“Fine. Jax may have mentioned that you loved this place. He said it reminded you of that place in Paris when we were on tour the first time.”

I didn’t miss her indrawn breath, and it gave me hope, so I pressed on. “But I’m not stalking you. I didn’t know you’d be here today. I was out for a run and thought I’d stop by to see if it was like Paris.”

I knew the exact moment that she slipped into the memory. Her eyes softened, and she glanced down at her plate, picking at the edge of the pastry.

“They had the best croissants at that place,” she said when she met my gaze again.

“I know you don’t want to talk to me, but can I grab a coffee and sit down with you? I promise not to pester you about the past just yet. It’s too damn early in the morning for that.”

Her laugh was strained and soft. “I can’t believe you’re actually awake right now.”

I grinned. It was a start. “Me either. Be right back.”

“Don’t make me regret this, Bash,” she said.

“I won’t.” I spun on my heel and headed toward the counter, willing my heart to slow down. Whatever happened between us now, I wanted her friendship. I wanted her back in my life in whatever way she’d let me. More than friends had to be off the table. She deserved better than that. Better than me.

I grabbed a cup of coffee and took the seat across from her.

“How can you still drink it like that?”

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