Nodding, I head straight out, surveying the area, and take a seat on the bench. As I do, a black sports car rolls in and breaks to a stop. A dark window lowers on the driver’s side, and West Wolf, wearing that same fedora, grins at me from behind a pair of aviators. “Well, hello, Eve.”
“Oh, um, hi.”
He kills the engine and gets out. Dressed in faded jeans and a black tee, he slips off the glasses. Giving them a twirl, he leans back against his car and crosses one ankle over the other. “Fancy meeting you here.”
My gaze tracks the length of a tatted vine that trails his arm. “Yeah, fancy that.”
He doesn’t say anything else so neither do I as my eyes leave his tattoo to run across his pecs and down the other arm to where he wears a silver watch. His faded jeans draw my attention next and the way they’re a little lighter in certain areas. Just as I’m realizing whatcertainarea I’m staring at he chuckles.
My face heats. My God, what am I doing?
“That blush in your cheeks really brings out the blue in your eyes.Greatblue eyes, as a matter of fact.”
Warmth surges through me in all sorts of awkward and puzzling ways. “Thanks,” I mumble, completely embarrassed.
“What are you doing here?” he asks, his gaze touching briefly on the Wile E. Coyote screen printed on my long sleeve tee.
“Interviewing for a job.” I hope Anne makes a miraculous appearance.
“What kind of job?”
“Roadie for Indie Fest.”
“Did you get it?”
“Yes.”
“Good.”
I make eye contact with him again. He laughs. At what, I’m not sure. But I like the deep and musical sound of it. I cock my head, looking at his face. He looks about Anne’s age—nineteen, maybe twenty. Older than me.
“You coming or going?” he asks.
“Going. Why?”
He raps his knuckles against the side of his sports car. “Well, climb on in. Where are you headed?”
Anne picks that second to appear and I’m so relieved to see her that I lunge to my feet. “Ready?”
“Well, duck on a stick. Look at this. It’s West Wolf.” She sticks out a hand that he shakes. “Nice to meet you. I love your music.”
Our Uber pulls in then.
West gives me another look. “I’m glad we got to see each other again.”
“Me…too.”
“Well, isn’t that something then?” He gives me a little goodbye wave as I precede Anne into the Uber.
She closes the door behind us and as the driver pulls away, she says, “Did you see the flyer with the list of all the bands that’ll be playing Indie Fest?”
“No.”
She starts listing them off, finishing up with, “And guess who’s headlining?”
I swallow a sudden nervous lump. “West Wolf and Bus Stop?”
Anne hoots. “Girl, you’re on the road with that hot piece of ass for the next year.”