I squinted at my phone, trying to make sure I'd read Talyn's text correctly. I sighed, leaning back against the concrete pole in the middle of the Oakland airport baggage claim, bracing myself as another passerby inadvertently opened the automatic doors, letting in more of this awful, un-Californian arctic air that had hovered over the Bay area for the last three days.
Barton had only laughed last time we'd talked and I'd complained. He was in Chicago at the moment—snow was coming down as he and the guys unloaded for tonight's show. Currently, he was on stage, in the middle of his set. Two weeks until my Spring Break began, and I'd see him in Norman.
I'd much rather be in Chicago, snow and all. Picking up some transfer prospect in Oakland for the Poppies was not my idea of a rockin' Friday night. My goal was to pick up the dude, who's name they'd conveniently forgotten to tell me, deposit him at his hotel—a nice, short walk from the BART stop, and meet Micki out at Bottom of the Hill. Tyler Hilton was playing. Micki liked to drool over him. I just wanted something--anything--to do.
I sighed, bit my lip and started to tap out a reply to Talyn.
"What on Earth are you doin' in the Oakland airport?" a voice I'd know anywhere asked as he scuffled up in his well-worn boots.
I felt my face flush for no reason as I looked up to meet his eyes. With these boots on, they were a lot closer to my level than usual. I'd never told him about my gig with the Poppies. It wasn't usually my style, doing something that required me to be social, even for money.
YOU ARE READING
The Beautiful Truth
RomanceSawyer Fitzgerald thought she knew the story of her now-divorced parents. It's colored her whole life thus far. Now in college, her English professor assigns her class to read the book that made her dad famous -- the one that he wrote for her mom ne...
