Page 9 of One More Time
The server returned with their drinks, popping in and out like a phantom.
Lucy took a glug of her Old Fashioned. Delicious. Perfect.
Nicky rucked his sleeves back up to his elbows and sipped his beer. Lucy tried to breathe and not to stare at his tattoos. Failed miserably.
On his forearm was something that looked like it might be a blue narwhal. Delicately inked words that started on his forearm did a little twist up around his elbow and higher, disappearing under his shirtsleeve. Lucy had a sudden vision of charting Nicky’s skin, exploring every last splash of ink and recording it like some kind of sexed-up tattoo cartographer. She couldn’t be the only one, though. Not when it came to Nicky Broome. There was probably a website dedicated to it somewhere. She’d look it up later.
Nicky leaned over his elbows on the table. ‘Okay, it’s time.’
Lucy’s heart thumped uncomfortably. She knew they would have to talk about it at some point, but she wasn’t ready. Hedging, she asked, ‘Time for what?’
‘First, what’s your poison? Apple Music? Amazon? Maybe Spotify? Tidal?’
Oh, thank God. She took another sip as she waited for her heart rate to settle out of cardiac arrest territory.
‘Spotify,’ she said finally.
‘Me too. Okay, let’s see it,’ Nicky said, beckoning with his hand.
‘I don’t know. That’s kind of personal,’ Lucy teased.
‘Come on,’ he teased right back. He held up his phone and waggled it in front of her. ‘I’ll show you mine.’
How could anyone resist that?
‘Fine,’ she said, ‘but don’t go moving things around.’
‘Promise.’ He mimed crossing his heart.
Lucy retrieved her phone from her little evening clutch on the seat beside her. She unlocked the phone and clickedto open the app. She slipped it into Nicky’s waiting hand, just as he did the same.
She scrolled through his playlists. They had names likeBlahandOrangeandWishbone, so she just picked one at random.
‘What’d you get?’ he asked.
‘Marshmallow?’
‘That’s a good one. For workouts.’
Lucy took a deeper look at the list and grinned. ‘Yeah, I see what kind of workout you’re getting.’
‘What’s that supposed to mean?’
‘These are all sex songs,’ Lucy replied plainly.
‘They are not!’ he exclaimed, with a teasing smile.
‘Uh, you have “Pour Some Sugar on Me” in here.’
‘One song!’
Lucy flicked down the list, laughing as she went. ‘“Tush,” “Crazy on You,” “Give Me All Your Lovin’,” “You Shook Me All Night Long,” “Whole Lotta Love”? Shall I continue?’
‘Okay, okay,’ he griped.
Lucy dug further into his lists.
‘Oh, Nicky!’ she gasped.
