Page 29 of No Rhyme or Riesling

Haven tilted his head. “That's why you never complained when Morgan got a hysterectomy and you had to take on extra shifts to cover for him. I mean, you jokingly complained, but you never actually meant it.”

Adam winced as a shiver ran down his spine. “Fuck,” he gasped. His heart rate kicked up a notch, and his skin felt hot and cold all over. “I wasterrifiedwhen Morgan said he was getting surgery. And he felt so bad, asking me and the others to cover his shifts while he was off.” Adam shook his head. The truth was, just minutes before Morgan told Adam about the surgery, Adam had been talking to their boss about requesting some time off of his own. He'd been wanting to take a week to go visit Skylar since they hadn't seen one another in years. But Morgan had barely gotten out his announcement before Adam went straight back to the boss, rescinded his vacation request, and volunteered to coverallof Morgan's shifts himself. It had meant working almost nonstop for two months, pushing everylimit of the stupid labor laws that dictated work hours, but Adam would do it all over again in a heartbeat. “I couldn't tell himno,” he added, referring to Morgan. “Because, just my luck, if I had—if I'd asked him to wait so I could have my vacation first—he would have died on that table, too.”

Haven shifted over and pulled Adam against him. “He's fine,” Haven murmured. “Morgan's fine.”

“I know,” Adam choked out, then had to swallow back a fresh swell of emotion. Morgan was alive. And happy. And getting married. “Shit.” Adam groaned and covered his face with both hands. “He's gonna tell me he changed his mind about me singing at the wedding. I just know it.”

“No, he won't,” Haven said. “He loves you enough to forgive one little drunken outburst.” He patted Adam on the arm. “Although, speaking of Morgan and work, you should probably start getting ready, or you're going to be late.”

Adam groaned. He didn't want to go to work. He didn't want to face Morgan, let alone people in general. As much as working customer service gave him plenty of practice at pretending to be happy, he simply didn't have the energy.

But he also couldn't leave Morgan to face the work day by himself. Not on a Monday. So he obediently got up, drank some coffee, ate the breakfast that Haven put in front of him, and got dressed.

His head still hurt, but he figured he deserved that after being such an idiot yesterday. Adam groaned. Even considering the way he'd behaved and the way he felt at that moment, part of him still wanted another drink. He wanted to float away and forget. Drift on the haze of alcohol and not have to feel anything.

It was a damned good thing their apartment was dry. Otherwise, he wasn't sure he could resist the temptation.

Adam got into his car and sat there for a moment with the engine running, trying to psyche himself up for going to work.He was about to reach for the gearshift when Haven came flying out of the apartment, heading straight for him.

“You forgot your lunch,” Haven said once Adam rolled down his window. He held up Adam's lunch bag and handed it through.

Shit. Adam inwardly cursed himself. This wasn't exactly the first time Haven had made his lunch for him, let alone had to bring it to him. “Thanks,” he said, trying for a smile.

Haven eyed the dashboard. “You should put on some music.”

Adam cringed. “I'm not sure even my favorites are gonna do it for me right now,” he admitted.

“Then put on something you haven't listened to in a long time. Something you don't know for sure will cheer you up or not.” Haven shrugged. “It might surprise you.”

Adam gave him a smile and a nod. He doubted it was actually going to work, but he'd do it anyway, just to make Haven happy.

He waited until Haven went back inside, then grabbed his phone and connected it to his car's stereo system. Adam spent a long time scrolling through his playlists. He was probably going to be late, but what else was new?

Adam stopped and scrolled back, spotting Dream Theater'sMetropolis Pt. 2: Scenes From a Memoryalbum. His eyebrows went up.Damn. He hadn't listened to that one in years. His old garage band had gone through a phase of devouring everything Dream Theater had ever produced, but that had gone by the wayside after some other new obsession took over.

But not before John had helped them write “December Dreams,” inspired by Dream Theater's musical style. Just the thought of that song brought a smile to his face. He still couldn't believe it had taken eight years to figure out the song was about him!

Adam looked back down at his phone and eyed the first track: “Scene One: Regression.”Oh!This was the murdermystery album. The one that was written in the style of a play, characters and all. Adam punched at the screen to start the music, then reached for the shifter again.

The sound of a ticking clock filled the car. Adam paused, frowning. Then came a man's voice, speaking softly, telling the listener to close their eyes and focus on their breaths. Adam's eyelids automatically drooped, and he felt his shoulders start to come down. A tiny sigh escaped him as his entire body sagged into the seat, obeying the voice as though it were speaking directly to him.

His headache slowly eased as the voice faded, giving way to the faint sounds of a guitar. The sound grew louder and louder, building with energy. Adam found himself grinning as the music flowed seamlessly into the second track, the play's overture, a medley of all the music that was to come. The power of it seeped down into his bones, making him feel the first hints of the mystery. The danger. The love story.

And the moment the lyrics began, Adam couldn't help singing along. It burst out of him, nearly bringing tears to his eyes. He finally put his car into gear and pulled out onto the street, grinning the whole way to work as he cranked up the volume and sang at the top of his lungs.

He reached the coffee shop way too soon. For a moment, Adam seriously considered sitting there until the entire album had played through, but then he'd bereallylate to work. And he was not about to do that to Morgan. He begrudgingly turned down the volume before shutting off the engine. At least he could go back to it later, on the drive home.

Adam let himself in through the back of the shop, muttered an apology to his boss for being late, and clocked in. He grabbed his apron and quickly tied it on, then hurried out to the front.

Shit. The shop wasbusy. Adam couldn't even sayhelloto Morgan, having to jump right into the chaos and help the line ofcustomers. They rushed from one thing to another, ringing up orders, mixing drinks, restocking supplies, calling out names. It was non-stop, which was exactly what Adam needed. Being too busy to think was the best thing that could have happened.

Except, despite the rush, Adam felt Morgan watching him. The boy kept glancing Adam's way, his expression unreadable.Fuck. Morgan had to be gearing up to rescind the offer about singing at the wedding. He was probably trying to find some nice way to say it. To tell Adam that he didn't want him ruining his wedding by being a drunken mess.

Adam inwardly cringed while trying to focus on grabbing the right flavor of scone out of one of the displays. Maybe he should beat Morgan to it. Apologize for being a drunken ass yesterday and then say something came up, something that would prevent him from singing after all.

Adam put the scone on a plate and called out the customer's name.

The lady walked up and looked at the scone with a frown. “I ordered a blueberry muffin.”

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