Confessions from the Quilting Circle by Maisey Yates (ebook reader color screen txt) 📕

one of your parents’ friends. Yeah, that was likely. She had walked by the Gold Pan often enough, and looked inside.

But she had never planned on becoming a regular. Not at all. She’d been too busy planning to escape. So it was weird to be here now. At the same time as Josh.

He said something to the guys that he was with, then stood and started walking in her direction. She vaguely recognized at least one of the people he was sitting with. Caleb or something. She had... Maybe science with him or something. But she was too distracted by Josh to think too hard about Caleb. Really the only thing Caleb’s presence accomplished was proving that Josh had aged very well. Because while he had grown into a broader, more masculine body, Caleb had gotten wider at the gut, and his hairline had migrated backward. Not that some people couldn’t work that look. It was just that Josh was one of those guys who would work for anyone.

“Hey,” he said.

“Hi.”

“You look tired.”

“That is literally the worst thing you could say to a woman. Okay, not the worst thing, but it’s a pretty terrible thing to say.”

“Okay, let me try again. Is everything okay?”

She sighed heavily. She didn’t actually want to talk about anything meaningful. “Yes. It’s just been a day.” She didn’t want to get into everything with Avery. Eventually, it was going to be common knowledge. Eventually, it was going to sweep through town.

But it wasn’t right now.

And here she was with her own crap, and no one knew about any of it. There was something freeing in that. Here and now she could give all the space she wanted to her own disappointment.

Maybe it was the chance to take a wound and make it a scar.

She was good at that.

She could do it on her own, no confessional required.

“Great. I heard it was open mic night.” That was a lie. But really, there was no way to explain why she was here with her violin otherwise. Not without letting him into her head. Which she wasn’t going to do. He didn’t belong in her head, in her life.

This moment, sure. And right now, this moment was all there was.

“Are you going to play?”

“Yeah. I am.” She tapped the clipboard. “In a couple of songs.”

“Do we get a country song?”

“No. Irish folk, though. Which, people seem to think pairs nicely with beer anyway.”

“I didn’t know you played folk music.”

“I can play anything,” she said.

His gaze held hers for a minute, and his lips curved into a smile. But she didn’t let memories invade, because the past didn’t matter. The future didn’t matter. The thought filled her with a sense of power. Adrenaline. She knew people lived like this, it was just she wasn’t one of them.

“Do you want a shot?”

“Sure,” he said.

“I’m buying.”

“Well, since you asked me, I figured you were,” he said. “I’m equal opportunity. I’m happy to let you buy the alcohol.”

“Great.”

She ordered two more shots, then handed one to him, and held hers aloft. “Cheers.”

“What are we toasting?”

“Tonight. Because it can be absolutely anything we want.”

She knocked it back, and as the alcohol burned down the back of her throat, his eyes burned into hers. And she realized that the open-ended toast sounded a whole lot like an offer. The idea... The idea only added fuel to the adrenaline fire sparking through her veins.

It would be a very bad idea. Doing anything with an ex. But then, that would require acknowledging the past. And worrying about the future. And that just wasn’t what was happening tonight.

“Is this what you always do on a Friday night?” she asked.

“Not every Friday, no.”

“Tonight.”

“Yeah,” he said.

“What do you usually do?”

“Go to dinner at my mom’s. Hang out with my niece and nephew.”

“So, you’re single.”

A slow smile spread over his face. “I did wonder when you were going to ask that.”

“Why would you think that I would?”

“Because,” he said, his grin way too tempting for her to deal with, “you wanted to know.”

“You don’t know that I wanted to know.”

“No. I do.”

“You really don’t.”

“But you asked.”

She made a scoffing sound. “But I waited a very long time. Which means I really was not curious.”

“I think you are.”

She looked around the bar, full of people laughing and having a good time. It was...nicer than she’d imagined it would be. The whole place was. “Fine. I was a little bit curious. You’re single. Have you... Have you been married?”

He shook his head. “Nope.”

“Why not?”

“The same reason you haven’t been I imagine.”

“You’re in a committed relationship with a musical instrument?”

“Haven’t found the right person.”

There was something about that statement that cut into her, and she didn’t know why it should.

“That is not why I’m single. I’ve never looked. I don’t think there’s a right person for me.”

That was far too true, and it echoed weirdly inside of her.

“I think that’s pretty sad, Hannah.”

“Why? Not everybody wants to be in a relationship. I figured out a long time ago that there was no way for me to put everything that I needed to put into violin and into a relationship.”

“Did you decide that around the time we broke up?”

She shrugged off those memories. No past. She was just talking to him like two people who might meet in a bar. And given the amount of sparks that were going up between them, him being single was absolutely a relevant point of conversation. Because she wasn’t going to let anything happen with a man who was married, engaged, or otherwise committed.

“Here’s an idea,” she said. “Why don’t we pretend we just met each other. I’m just a girl in a bar. And you... You’re just a guy in a bar. Nothing happened when we were teenagers. And everything that’s happened since... Well, what would you want to know if you just met me?”

“What’s your favorite thing about playing the violin?”

It was a strange question, and it cut right to the very heart of who she