Page 60 of Play the Last Track
I park next to Katie’s car and head for the front door. Peering inside, I can’t see any movement, or lights, or signs that someone’s still inside. I try the door, shaking it with a little more force than needed and making it rattle. The anxiety builds as I head for thealleyway in the back, where I know there’s another door. It’s locked too.
When I make it back to the front door, I peer inside again. I’m covered in snow now, freezing my ass off, and the anxiety that something has happened to her is quickly turning into panic.
I dial her number again. No answer.
Again. No answer. I shoot off a few texts.
Where are you?
I’m at the bar. Are you inside?
Please just text me back, Katie. I’m worried.
I don’t wait for a response I’m sure I won’t get, and decide to dial again. This time, with my phone pressed to one ear, I press my other ear to the door and try to hear any movement or a ringtone inside.
“Flynn?” Her voice comes through the line, and I feel like crying in relief.
“Fuck. Thank god. Are you okay?” I ask quickly, standing straight and glancing around the parking lot.
“I’m fine. Still at the bar. What’s wrong? You sound weird.”
“It’s one a.m. You didn’t come home, and I hadn’t heard from you.” I peek inside the bar again as a light turns on all the way in the back. “I, uh, well, I’m here.”
“Here? As in here, here?” She laughs. She’s finding this funny. I thought she’d been attacked, and she’s finding this funny.
I keep my eyes on the back corridor, and my heart starts beating at a normal pace when I see her round the corner. Thank fuck. More lights turn on as she makes her way through the bar and to the front doors. The closer she gets, the more feeling I get back in my body. Fucking hell, I’m freezing. I can’t feel the fingers thatare clutching my phone, and my trainers are soaked through with water.
“I’ll let you in. Hang on,” she says before the line goes dead. Her face appears in the glass, and she shakes her head as she unlocks the door. As soon as it’s open, I slip inside. It’s still warm in the bar, the heating still on.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck.” I hop on the spot and shake out my hands. “Fucking cold as shit out there.”
“Well, yeah. It’s snowing, Reed. What were you doing standing in the snow?” She’s got this amused smile on her face, and her eyes shine with laughter as she watches me moving around, trying to warm up.
“You didn’t come home.”
“I told you I was working tonight.”
“Yes, but then it got past midnight, and you didn’t come home. I got worried.”
“You … I …” She looks at her phone, obviously now seeing the texts and calls I’d left for her. “I’m sorry, I didn’t see your messages. Or the calls. I was …”
She pauses, turning back toward the corridor where I first saw the light coming on. “You okay?” I ask when she doesn’t start talking again. Katie looks back at me, her eyes searching my face. She’s deciding something, like she has something to say, but she’s not sure whether she wants to tell me or not.
“Yeah,” she says, her face relaxing. “I’m sorry. I didn’t see my phone.”
Not telling me then. Whatever disappointment I feel by her not sharing with me whatever she was obviously about to, is washed away the moment Katie steps into my arms and presses up on her toes to find my lips. I let her, turning my head and leaning down alittle to help. I wrap my arms around her warm body and sink into the kiss.
I could honestly kiss this woman for the rest of my life and die a happy man.
She breaks off and buries her face into my neck, yawning against my skin. I turn my head and press my lips into her hair. “You scared me a little there, Rockstar.”
“I’m sorry. I honestly thought you’d go to bed and wouldn’t notice I wasn’t there.” Her words are muffled against my hoodie.
“Unlikely.” I press another kiss to her temple. I look around the bar. It’s closed up, clean and tidy. Not a chair out of place or a glass left on the bar. “What are you doing here so late anyway? When did you finish up?”
“I … I just had some paperwork to finish up in the back. I wasn’t feeling tired, so I thought I’d smash it out so I can take tomorrow off and come to the game,” she rattles off quickly. A lie. Probably. I think. I’m getting better at reading her every day, but sometimes I can tell there are new walls around certain topics that I shouldn’t encroach on.
Her parents, for one. Or the status of ourfakerelationship.
