I knew who he meant immediately. “Kid? Colin is at least twenty-five.”
“That’s a kid.” Max always pretended to be really old, but he only looked like he was in his fifties. “But what’s wrong with him?”
“Nothing’s wrong with him,” I mumbled. “I have a date with him tomorrow.”
“What?” Brody slammed his glass on the bar.
“He came by earlier and asked me out again. I decided, why not?” I tried to make it sound nonchalant, but I understood their surprise. I’d been turning the guy down all summer. I’m not sure what changed my mind. Maybe knowing I wasn’t leaving made it worth the effort of going out on a date. It had been a while since I’d been on one. Colin had caught my attention the first time he walked in, but my mind was already preoccupied.
Max patted my shoulder. “Good for you, but if he treats you anything less than as a lady, you let me know.”
I smiled. “All right. I will.”
“Who says Maddy’s a lady?” Macon was ready for the attack, and he ducked before my hand could make contact with his face.
Max shook his head and walked off. He was used to our banter.
“Where’s he taking you?” Macon’s voice rose slightly, the only hint he might be moving from jokester to protective friend. He could pretend all he wanted, but he cared about me.
I made him a second Long Island and set it in front of him. “Picnic on the beach.”
Macon sipped his drink. “So he wants you in a secluded spot so he can seduce you. Are you sure you want to go?”
Brody shook his head. “No. If that was his goal, he’d have offered to make dinner at home. Picnic on the beach means he’s trying to impress her. He wants to show his romantic side.”
I opened a bottle of water. “I like Brody’s version better.”
Macon snorted. “Of course you do. You’re a girl.”
“Weren’t you the one accusing me of imaginary f**king earlier?” I took a long sip of water. Even at eight o’clock at night it was still hot out.
“Yes, but that doesn’t change the fact that you want romance. You want a guy to sweep you off your feet, and you’ll believe anything to get it.” He made a broad sweeping motion with his hands.
“No, I just want Lyle to say more than three words to me.”
Brody leaned forward on his elbows. “That’s your problem. Your expectations are entirely too high.”
“Yeah, ridiculously high.” I set down a chilled glass and grabbed the Johnnie Walker Red Label. I measured out the liquor precisely, even though I could eye it better than most. I liked to pretend I was putting my chemistry major to good use when I made drinks. It made the four years I spent in college seem worth it. If you really think about it, making drinks is all about using the right ingredients with the right properties together.
I finished and took a deep breath before turning back toward my roommates. “Wish me luck.”
Brody gestured for me to lean in. “May the Force be with you.”
“Your Star Wars nerdiness might be one of my favorite things about you.”
“It takes one to know one.”
“Have I ever denied it?”
Macon leaned over. “No, but you hide it really well. You lure guys in with those short dresses and skirts, but little do they know they’re dating a total geek.”
“Geeks can be attractive. There’s nothing exclusive about one or the other. Besides, I think I officially lost my geek status now.” I picked up the drink and walked over to where Lyle was plugging in and tuning his guitar. He played one of those acoustics with a pickup.
“You’re still a geek!” Macon called after me. “No amount of paper can change that.”
I smiled. I let Macon think he got to me more than he actually did.
I stopped a few feet away from Lyle, but he still hadn’t acknowledged my approach. I wasn’t sure if it was the noise from the customers, or because he didn’t care to talk to me until he had to. “Hey.”
“Oh, hey.” He glanced up and ran a hand through his brown hair that was kind of long and screamed “surfer boy.” Although the surfer and musician look overlapped sometimes.
“Here’s your drink.” I’d given up asking him if he had a preference weeks before. He told me to surprise him, so I did. The only problem is he almost always took just one sip. I was usually good at picking the right drink for people, but evidently the skill wasn’t working on Lyle.
“Thanks.” He nodded and smiled slightly. He didn’t have a toothy smile; it was more of a closed-lip thing, but it still did something to me.
“You’re welcome.” I waited a minute to make sure he wasn’t going to say anything else before heading back to the bar.
Brody spun around on his stool as soon as I got back behind the bar. “Did you at least get four words?”
“Nope. ‘Oh. Hey.’ And ‘thanks.’”
Macon swirled the ice in his glass. “That jerk. He could have at least said thank you instead.”
“Maybe next time.”
“Or you could take my advice.”
I sighed. “Let’s enjoy the music.”
Brody rested his elbow on the bar. “You’re the only one who thinks he’s that good.”
“Come on. His lyrics are incredible.”
Brody glanced at his watch. “He’s got a good voice, but I don’t get why you are so into his songs.”
I shrugged. “You guys don’t get it.”
Macon rolled his eyes in that annoying way of his. “Of course we don’t. We are far too lowly to understand the message behind his music.”
Any chance to reply disappeared when Lyle took the microphone. “Hey, everyone. I’m Lyle Waverly and here are a few of my messed-up tunes.”
After a long intro, his low gravelly voice broke in. I closed my eyes focusing on the lyrics.
Loving the loneliness…loving the empty space. We can all take off our masks now, life’s about the escape.
“Excuse me? Miss?” I opened my eyes and groaned.
Macon and Brody laughed as I tried to rein in my annoyance at getting interrupted.
“Can I get a Heineken and a Sex on the Beach?”
“Seriously?” I said with more of an attitude than I meant to. That’s how you know you work in a tourist trap. I mean, non-beachside bars couldn’t possibly sell so many of these things.