Page 38 of Unlovable Player

The song is kind of relaxing and I don’t realize I’m tapping my hand on the door until I catch Sebastian watching me.

“It’s Julia Jacklin,” he says.

“Huh?”

“The singer, Julia Jacklin.”

“Oh, it’s… nice.”

He laughs. “What do you listen to?”

I shrug. “Different stuff, mostly country.”

“Country!”

“What?”

“Nothing, I just didn’t have you down as a country fan, is that what the kids in Jersey are listening to these days?”

“Kids?”

He grins at me in the rear-view and I fucking hate the way my stomach swoops when he does that.

“People in Jersey don’t all listen to the same music you know, just like people in… wherever you’re from, Manhattan-”

“Manhattan? I wish. My parents live in New Haven.”

“Oh, I apologize, I got the wrong rich asshole neighborhood.” I feel bad the second I say it, but Sebastian lets out a hoot.

“You wouldn’t even believe the level of rich asshole living in my parents’ neighborhood.”

I shuffle in my seat. “I can imagine.”

“So why country?”

“My ma loves country music, she sings.”

“Is she good?”

“Yeah, she’s really good.”

“Does she do it professionally?”

“No, I told you, she works in a diner.”

“Yeah, but she could do that too.”

“She plays a couple of gigs a month at Smokey’s.”

“Smokey’s,” he says the word like I’ve just taught him a curse word in French.

“Yeah, but she doesn’t really have the time to pursue it full-time.”

“Because of the diner?”

“Yeah, and because she had me.”

I feel his eyes on the side of my face and will myself not to blush. Too late.

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