Page 19 of Midnight Dissonance

Josh handed her a twenty. She counted out his change and handed it over, then grabbed his scone and handed it to him. “Your coffee will be ready at the pickup window.” She nodded toward the station they used for finished drinks.

“We still need to talk.”

“Not when I’m working, we don’t.” She was already looking past his shoulder, or trying, but the guy was at least six feet, his broad shoulders blocking them out.

“Give me your number.”

“No.” Was he insane? Why would he think she would ever give him her phone number? She reserved that for people she liked.

Josh shrugged nonchalantly. “I guess you don’t want your guitar back.”

She narrowed her eyes. It was a dirty play, and they both knew it. If she didn’t need her guitar back, she’d tell him to get lost. But they had a gig Friday night. With a frustrated huff, she held out her hand. “Phone.”

He said nothing as he pulled his phone out of his pocket and entered the code to unlock it. Lexi typed her number in. Saved it. Handed the phone back to him.

“I have a gig Friday night.”

“I’ll call ya.” He winked and then left the register and picked up his coffee before he headed out the door without a backward glance.

She turned to the customer who had been behind him and pretended like she hadn’t just given her number to the enemy.

Only her body didn’t think he was the enemy. Oh no, her body fucking purred when he was within striking distance. It loved his cocky swagger and Irish lilt and the tiny bits of silver threaded into the hair at his temples.

When her phone buzzed in her pocket with an incoming text, she grimaced. Because she knew who it was, most likely.

Her parents didn’t contact her because they were pissed that she had left school and was no longer being a good little drone for them. They’d basically disowned her until she fell back in line.

Her sister only texted if she needed something or to see if she could pick up dinner.

Her bandmates were all at work, and none of them ever texted her during the day unless it was an emergency.

Which left only one person—Josh. The man who had swiftly become the bane of her existence.

The moment she was free, she pulled her phone out.

Josh: Just checking to make sure this really is your number.

Lexi: Middle finger emoji.

What the hell was his game? Because there was no way he was interested in her. Perhaps it was some type of freak outreach program with the club.

Because Josh Ryan being romantically interested in her, she was certain, was one of the signs of the apocalypse.

7

By Friday Josh was damn near coming out of his skin. The ornery woman was avoiding his messages. He spent his week replaying the events of the previous weekend. How long would she wait before she responded about meeting up so he could give her the guitar?

Maybe she had another guitar she could use and was simply being difficult. He wouldn’t put it past her. Not when she was avoiding him on purpose.

The woman was giving him a bloody complex. First with her refusal to scene with him, and now this.

After their first kiss, he’d tried to write off that he’d felt the Ryan click. But with their second kiss in his Mercedes, he knew he’d felt it. There was no other logical explanation for the way the world slowed and how everything in life, all the losses and defeats, all the triumphs, finally made sense. Because they had all been directing him down the path to her.

Even his failed marriage had led him to this point. And it left him trying to figure out the best strategy for moving forward. Because with Lexi, none of his normal candor or seductive moves had worked.

And then he told himself he was crazy. Lexi wasn’t the woman for him. She’d simply thrown him off his game when she rejected him.

Hey, it happened. Guys got rejected all the time.

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