Page 3 of To Go
“What did you guys get up to down there?” Nessa asks, even though she’s not really listening as she swings herself around a support pillar. I’d be worried about her getting hurt if she didn’t always bounce back. Somehow, she’s indestructible.
“Not much. Same old, same old.” I’ve been fairly evasive about how my trip home went. They were all excited to see me finally take a vacation, I didn’t want to go through it all.
“Booooooooring!” Nessa screams to the heavens. I follow her gaze as though I can see right through the ceiling to the stars twinkling overhead, my thoughts drifting to my mother.
“Nessa keep it down,” Hazel admonishes as she herds us into the subway car that stops in front of us. Lucky for us, the car is blissfully empty as we settle in, Nessa prattling on about who knows what as Hazel nods along thoughtfully. I shoot Hazel a puzzled look when we don’t get off at her stop and she returns a mischievous smile. Nessa cackles when I point it out.
“Bitch, you didn’t think our night was over, did you? It’s your birthday! We’re going to take care of you.” She flops her head onto my shoulder, her massive bundle of red curls draping over me. “You’re so lucky to have us.”
She doesn’t know the half of it.
Booze & Brews,the café-slash-bar nestled between the streets of downtown Toronto, isn’t nearly as packed as the club we just came from, and I’m grateful. Its plush, overstuffed arm chairs have all been pushed up against the soft green walls and are a welcome, familiar sight. Most everything has been pushed to the side, creating a thriving dance floor that leads all the way to the back of the bar. There sits a small stage where local bands come to play most nights of the week.
With the dim lights and thumping bass, you’d never tell that this is where I spend almost every morning, providing ‘service with a smile.’ We grab some drinks and sneak off to a small table tucked into the side of the room, leaving just enough room for us to huddle around it without getting lost in the swaying crowd.
The place is fairly unique. It runs as a coffee shop during the day and flips over to a bar in the evening with somerepositioning of furniture. Nessa works as an expert bartender, and Hazel does the marketing and social media management, as well as runs the subscription coffee service they offer.
Up until now I’ve only worked on the coffee shop side. Now that I’m Ontario’s legal drinking age, the owner and Hazel’s boyfriend, Beck, is going to have me get my alcohol serving certificate. The tips on the bar side are way better than what I can make on the café side, and I’ve told him I’m saving up. While I do love working in the café, making baked goods, and having nice quiet mornings, this is going to be a huge step up for me.
It doesn’t take long before Beck comes out of the back to steal Hazel away from us, claiming he needs to talk to her in the back. We all understand that “talk” means “bang.” He blushes when Nessa calls him out on it in a way that only a best friend can, but he doesn’t deny it. I would be mad at the 6’2”, man-bunned, Ecuadorian Casanova if they didn’t look so happy together. It doesn’t hurt that he tells me that all of my drinks are on the house tonight as a birthday gift.
Nessa doesn’t stick around either, getting pulled into the crowd by a stunning blonde with legs for days. I should be seething, drenched in some sort of indignant rage at being abandoned on my birthday. Instead, I resume my own prowling, scouring the crowd for someone to,ahem, spend my own evening with.
The live music that shows up to play here is impressive. Beck gets a lot of bands coming in, and since the launch of the new coffee subscription and added exposure, loads more people have been flocking to the bar in the evenings. We used to only have bands on weekends. Now, we’re bumping every single evening. This is my first time truly getting to enjoy it.
The band tonight is setting a good vibe at least, playing some pop-rock songs. Most of them are originals it seems, although they have a few covers thrown in there for good measure.
I pull myself up from my seat, wandering into the middle of the crowd-covered floor, bopping away to the upbeat tune they’re ringing out. The deep, thrumming beat of the drums rolls through my chest, connecting to my heart as it pounds to the music. My body starts to move with it, pouring into my veins, losing myself to the joy of it.
The song fades out, leaving a small break before the drums hit, forcefully jerking us into the next song, the sultry, pulsating beat rolling through me. My eyes snap open as it begins, immediately locking onto the drummer as he throws himself into his instrument.
The first thing I notice is his massive size, taking up most of the space behind the drum kit. As I focus on him more, I can see that he’s not bigger, he’sbigger. His long legs are spread wide to get closer to his kit, the muscles in his arms bulge as he plays, small drops of glistening sweat trickling down them with his efforts, similar to the sweat dripping from his close-cropped, dark blonde hair. His face is taught, serious, hyper-focused on his task. I would be miniscule next to him, and the thought sends a ripple of anticipation down my spine.
I wonder if he always looks this… intense? Maybe this is his resting face?Coupled with his entirely black outfit, the whole look lends a dangerous energy to him. I couldn’t even tell you what the rest of the band looks like or what song they’re playing, I’m so transfixed on him.
As the tempo evens out, he lifts his head to evaluate the crowd. I chew my bottom lip as I try to look confident. Sexy.Like I know what I’m doing.
My body registers the moment he snags me in his gaze, sending heat rushing through me. The corner of his mouth quirks as he returns my blatant interest. Without breaking eye contact, he throws his drumstick in the air. It gives a few tight twirls before he grabs it, mid-spin, as though there had beenno interruption. I grin and raise my eyebrows at him, earning myself a wink before he refocuses on his task.
And just like that, my search for the night is over.
Chapter 2
James
A few hours earlier.
“Ican’t believe my big brother is back!” Nessa squeals as she does her best impression of a boa constrictor, hugging the life out of me. Her tiny stature gives a false impression of cuteness until she unleashes all her energy on you.
Her wild, fiery curls look nothing like my dark, perpetually short, blond hair, and you would never be able to tell we’re related unless you looked at our eyes. While hers are brighter—a popping, bottle green—mine are dark and mossy, yet they carry an uncanny resemblance that not many people pick up on. Probably because I doubt many people spend time staring into my eyes. Despite how different we are in appearance, we mean the world to each other.
“Yeah, yeah, shove off, pipsqueak.” I playfully push her off of me before ruffling her hair.
It was pretty nice of her to help set up my new apartment, not that I have a whole lot to move in. Since our band’s ten-month tour is done, I’m finally ready to set some roots down. When Nessa told me that there was a vacant space in Maria, Beck’s cousin’s building, I jumped on it.
It’s a spacious one-bedroom suite on the top floor, with big, south-facing windows. It’s in a quiet building, came with a free parking spot, and all utilities are included. Best of all, it’s not my bandmate’s basement couch where I’ve been surfing whenever we’re not on tour, which, in the last few years, hasn’t been very often.
The robin’s egg blue walls give it a serene energy, and while it didn’t come furnished, the idea of having a space to make my own is appealing. Nessa has been helping me pick items out online which should all arrive within the next week or so.
