Shaken Not Stirred (Mixology #1)(56)
Author: Alyssa Rose Ivy

I sighed and placed the glass on a cocktail napkin. I needed to give up on Lyle too. My interest was a weird obsession that had gone too far.

I found Lyle waiting to start his set. “Hey.”

“Hey. Thanks.”

“No problem.” I walked back to the bar. Macon had gone home for a few days, and Brody wasn’t working Thursdays anymore, so I was on my own. Watching Lyle alone reminded me of the time Carly had come in. I wondered if I’d ever talk to her again.

Lyle sipped his vodka cranberry, looked at it and took another sip. He’d never taken two consecutive sips before. Then he took a third and smiled—at me. He found me across the bar and held up the drink.

My heart could have stopped. He liked a vodka cranberry? Seriously?

A crowd came in, and I missed most of his first set as I made small talk while mixing drinks and opening beers.

“Hey.”

I turned around in surprise.

Lyle stood at the bar with a smile, and for once, he showed some teeth. “Do you want to do something after you get off? Hang out or something?”

“Oh. Sure.” My heart sped up. What was happening?

I could barely concentrate as I finished up at work that night. I served drinks without thinking, and thankfully didn’t spill much. Lyle finished his last set and sat around waiting for me to get off.

“What do you want to do?” I asked, slipping on a sweater.

“I don’t think anything is open. Want to drive around?”

“Yeah. Okay.” I hadn’t done that since high school.

Settled in his car, I tried to stay calm. It was just hanging out—nothing to get bent out of shape about. We sat in silence, and I needed to break it.

“So, how long have you been playing guitar?”

“Since I was eight. It’s pretty much my life.”

“That’s awesome. I love your music.”

“Yeah?” He took his eyes off the road to smile at me. “That’s cool.”

“Where do you come up with your ideas? Do you write the words first or the music?”

He put a hand behind my seat. “Oh. I don’t even write my own lyrics anymore. I kind of suck at it.”

“What?”

“I actually lucked out. I met a guy around here who loves writing but hates performing and doesn’t play much. He gives me notebooks of lyrics, and I write songs. I think he just likes that the words are out there. You know? I get that. I totally get that.”

“Who is it?” I gripped the oh-my-god bar. “Who writes your lyrics?”

“His name’s Colin. He hangs out at the Grille sometimes.”

“Stop the car!”

“What?”

“We’re only a few blocks from my place. Stop the car!”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes. STOP THE CAR!”

It was like one of those eighties movies. The fist pumping music started, and I had to get to Colin. I barely waited for the car to stop before I busted out and started running home. How could I have been so stupid? How could I have been so blind? All along those lyrics had been Colin’s? I’d felt such an intense connection to him and didn’t even know it. Were any of those songs written for me? Colin was right, he did know me. I was starting to wonder if he knew me even better than I knew myself.

***

“If one needed to extend their credit limit quickly, how would they do it?” I slumped down on Macon’s bed while he played some game on his computer.

“Well, it depends what one needs the money for.”

“Why? You don’t have to tell the credit card company that.”

“No, but you could tell your friend.” He spun around in his chair to look at me.

“I messed up so bad, Macon. I don’t know how I let this happen.” That’s when the tears started. I’d kept them in the whole time, but I couldn’t anymore. “It was his lyrics. They were his lyrics.”

“Wait. Whose?”

“Colin’s! Colin wrote all the lyrics for Lyle’s songs!”

Macon burst out laughing. “No f**king way!”

“Yes, way. I need to see him.” I buried my face in my hands. “I was already missing him like crazy, and now this? Things with us might not be perfect, but I need to try. I shouldn’t have just given up.”

“Finally she gets it. Relationships take work. Didn’t you say he offered to quit his job for you?”

I nodded.

“That’s extreme, but find a compromise. No more wasting time finding yourself. That’s bullshit, and you know it.”

“I know. I just didn’t think he really got me.”

“You thought wrong.”

“Real helpful.” I stared down at my hands.

I waited for Macon’s comforting arms, but they didn’t come. Instead I heard typing. I looked up.

“Try this for helpful. Your credit’s extended.” Macon gestured for me to join him at his computer. “When do you want to leave?”

“Now would be great.”

He smiled. “How about I book you a flight for first thing tomorrow morning?”

“That works too.” I sat down on the edge of the desk. “But you don’t have to do this.”

“Yes, I do.”

“Why?”

“Because if I was ever broke and needed to see the love of my life in another country, I’d hope you’d buy the ticket for me.”

I gave him a huge hug. “Oh my god, Macon. You’re amazing.”

“Yeah, yeah. Tell me something I don’t already know.”

“I’ll pay you back.”

“Let’s get real. It’s Colin we’re talking about. How long do you think he’ll wait before he sends me a check?”

I laughed. “I guess it depends on whether he wants me back.”

“He wants you back.”

“How do you know?”

He typed in my name and birthday so he could purchase the ticket. “Because you can’t be that easy to get over, and because the guy’s in love with you.”

“I hope you’re right.”

“Me too. I don’t want to have to buy you a ticket home tomorrow.”

I pushed his arm. “Don’t make me doubt this.”

“I won’t. I already thought you should make things work. Now you finally have your proof. Only you, Maddy. Only you.”

“I can do this.”

“Yeah, you can. But one small detail.” He forwarded me the email confirmation.