Bodega cats.
The subway in New York is the tits.
Wearing anything over a size ten in L.A. is a literal crime. You will be jailed.
All black attire is nearly a requirement in NYC.
“New York,” we said at the same time.
Santiago’s eyes bounced back and forth between us “Did you just have an entire conversation without speaking?”
Again, we looked at each other and burst out laughing. “Yes.”
He nodded, tipping his beer to his lips. “Cool.”
Haven curled her arm around my shoulders and planted a smacking kiss on my hair. “I need this girl to come back and conquer the city with me. We have big plans of performing a two woman Broadway show. She’ll play drums, natch, while I recite beat poetry. This will obviously be when we’re over fifty, so we’ll have plenty of life under our belts to entertain our crowds. But I feel like we need to get going on the planning stages.”
I snorted a laugh, so happy to have my girl here. “We’re still discussing the direction of our show. There’s a possibility of addin’ a third member to the cast.”
“What are your plans for the next thirty years, while you age and prepare?” Santiago asked, an amused tilt to his mouth.
“Me?” I pressed a hand to my chest. “I’ll be drummin’ and livin’. Hopefully I’ve left the bar life behind, but only time will tell.”
“Doesn’t sound like you’re planning on staying with Unrequited.” He gave me a long look before glancing down at the sweating bottle in his hands.
“I don’t know. My contract is only through the tour. I don’t want to get my hopes up about something that might not happen.”
He nodded, but didn’t lift his head. All I saw was thick, dark hair and bushy, black beard. His expression was unreadable.
“But you’re going back to New York.” It wasn’t a question, but I answered anyway.
“I think so. I feel comfortable there. I’ve got Haven and Liam and Theo.”
“And here you’ve got Unrequited,” he filled in.
“Always Unrequited,” I said.
There was a heavy moment where no one spoke. Because Haven was Haven, she slapped her hand on the bed, drawing both our eyes to her.
“Luckily New York is a short train ride away. However, I’m sure my girl could be persuaded to stay down here if she were given enough reason,” Haven said.
I would be pinching her sassy, meddling ass later.
“Well,” Santiago cleared his throat. “I’m gonna let the two of you do your thing. We’re still going out tonight?”
My breath caught. “You’re comin’?”
He stood, turning to face me, brows lowered. “If that’s all right.”
“It is. The other guys are comin’ too. I didn’t think goin’ to clubs was your thing.”
He shifted, giving a casual shrug. “I don’t mind it, given the right company.”
Judging by the look on Santiago Garza’s face in the dim light of the dance club we’d just entered, he absolutely hated it. I’d almost call his expression a grimace, which puzzled me, since Haven had shown me plenty of pictures of him leaving clubs just like this, usually with a model-type on his arm.
Maybe he needed the model-type to enjoy being in a place like this.
I decided not to give him a second thought. Not when Haven was here. We were going to dance and drink and be silly one last time before I went two whole months without seeing her.