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a few and I’d gotten one on my shoulder on my eighteenth birthday. It was a swirly line in red circling a monogram of my parents’ names. Virtually incomprehensible to anyone who didn’t know what it meant, but I kind of liked that too.
    For Matthew I’d memorized an article about rhythm guitarists and their fans. I hoped he might not know that Chuck Berry’s distinctive ability to pick out rhythms previously handled by pianos had revolutionized rock and roll. Or at least start some kind of conversation with him.
    For Rick I was hoping a few well-stated insults about someone might get him going, or at least garner an expression other than contempt. If nothing else he’d have a specific reason to dislike me instead of being rude by default.
    I’d left Dex off the list, since I had planned to avoid any deeper connection with him after our first meeting.
    But there, in the bar I realized the list was a waste of time. All I’d needed to do was get drunk with them. Walls tumbled down. Rick almost smiled at me – I think – when I managed to match him shot for shot in something sweet-smelling but sharp going down that the bartender refused to identify.
    The others softened too. By the end of the night Matthew and I had an actual conversation about the best morning hangover cures. It was short, but I swore to remember it always, and enjoyed actually hearing the sound of his voice.
    Joe, who’d already been sweet to me, started treating me like one of the gang. He told me about how he and Liss had met in a diner and that he’d gotten into huge trouble when he played a song he wrote for her on a live interview before it had even been recorded.
    I laughed, remembering that Spark seemed a little rough around the edges, but I couldn’t deny the power of the emotion in the lyrics. Of course it had ended up helping to catapult them to the new level of fame they were currently enjoying, so it all ended well.
    And Dex, gorgeous and dangerous Dex, never left my side. He teased me about my hair and prodded me to drink faster. He poked me in the side to get my attention when someone down on the dance floor was being ridiculous and made sure I was involved in all the conversations going on around us. Just like a good friend would.
    Or a sexy guy who’s kind of attracted to you , an evil voice in the back of my head said. That perilous line of thought was thankfully stopped for the moment when Rick stood up, pitched over and went down on the floor. He landed like a felled giant redwood, with a thud the whole bar could hear over the music and din of voices.
    Joe cackled. “Finally. Can we get a forklift to get this surly asshole out of here?”
    I joined in the laughter, but couldn’t fight my innate need to organize the situation. “Is Red still around? I bet he could grab a couple of bouncers and get him into a cab.”
    The lead singer smiled. “Good thinking. I’m not throwing out my back to lift the big bastard. Liss and I were about to head out anyway. We’ll find Red and sent him up.”
    They bid everyone goodbye and headed downstairs, not to steady on their feet, but supporting each other through the crowd. I saw them find Red, our security guy, and turned back to see how Rick was doing.
    The huge man was grunting quietly, and impressively able to display a lot of anger considering he was barely conscious. I shook my head and said so to Dex.
    “Shush,” he warned. “He’ll be a hundred times worse if he remembers this happened tomorrow.”
    “What’s he going to do, punch us all in the face?”
    “Any day now,” he quipped.
    I giggled. “That’ll be a story to tell the grandkids.”
    “Indeed. ‘The day an ugly fucker hit me and your granddad murdered him’. It’ll be an epic tale.”
    I shoved his arm. “You’re their granddad in this scenario?”
    “But of course.”
    “Friends don’t have grandchildren together, Dex.”
    “Very good friends do, Becca.”
    I laughed, but something had shifted in the