Page 13 of The Drummer

Luke shoots me an annoyed look. “It’s not a passion.”

I almost laugh. “You have eight of them.”

“I like them.”

“Exactly. It’s a passion.”

“Anditis what?” Callie asks, interrupting our debate.

“Bikes,” I say.

“Bikes? Like bike bikes, or motorbikes?”

Her expression triggers a strange warmth inside me. There’s an innocence about her that’s mesmerizing when juxtaposed against the fearless rock she’s been throughout the rest of the conversation.

Everything Luke said about this girl comes racing back in a punch to the heart. I can’t resist the urge to tease her and draw more of her sweet fire.

“Motorbikes? I love this girl,” I say to Luke. “Where did you find her? She’s like my grandma in the body of a cute college chick.”

I live for the delightful glare she lasers at me. “I’m sorry, but maybe if you used more adjectives I wouldn’t have to ask so many stupid questions.”

“Adjectives? Sorry, hon, the writing part was his thing, not mine.”

“That’s obvious,” she mumbles, but the subtle tilt of her mouth, the glint in her eyes… Is she flirting with me?

Damn. A sensation I haven’t felt in a long time sizzles through my body.

“Luke is awesome with adjectives,” I return.

“He is. One of the best.”

Even Luke smiles with an amused headshake.

“Wow, thanks, guys,” he says in a dry tone.

“He also sucks at taking compliments,” I say.

“How’s that possible? Isn’t a love of being worshipped part of the superstar thing?” Callie quips. That barb was definitely for me, not Luke, and I can’t stop a sly grin.

“It’s supposed to be,” I return.

“Just let me know if you need me to weigh in on anything about myself,” Luke interjects.

He and Callie exchange an affectionate smile that sends a sharp twinge through my chest.

I swallow the strange feeling in irritation. I’ve lived in Luke’s shadow for over a decade. Watched him get everything he wanted, and even the things he didn’t. Never once was I jealous.

Until now.

“Actually, I’ll make it even easier for you to talk about me and hit the restrooms,” Luke says, rising from the table. “I’ll be back.”

Callie and I watch in silence as he disappears down a hall,presumably toward the bathrooms. The heaviness is back in his gait, and any lingering resentment fades into familiar fear.

“He’s not good, is he?” I muse out loud. I don’t even know to whom. The universe maybe. It’s already betrayed him so many times, I’m positive it doesn’t give a shit.

“No, he’s not,” Callie answers on its behalf.

My hard gaze remains fixed on the wall as the last few months come flooding back. The urge to unload some of the burden on this stranger is so strong, I have to clench my jaw to keep it in. Luke said she doesn’t know his story, and it’s impossible to separate mine from his.

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