Page 1 of Playing the Backbeat

Prologue

Eight Years Ago

Dee

“This is why you can’t have bottomless mimosas without me.” I do my best to level Ellie with a stern look, but I fold. A laugh escapes me as I watch Dominic—her new boyfriend—attempt to rest his chin on his hand, his elbow resting on the table, but it slips and he nearly drops his jaw straight onto the hard surface.

“I’msooooorry,” Ellie whines before giggling. “But I didn’tknowthey were bottomless until they brought out another pitcher…and well, I regret nothing.” She hiccups and Dom’s dopey grin grows before he boops her on the nose.

Okay. Time to get these guys out of here.

“Well, I’m glad you texted me. Let me find us a ride.” I pull out my phone to see how close the nearest available car is.Thankfully, I was studying at the library just a few blocks away when Ellie texted me that her ankles “felt squishy” and the ceiling was on the floor.

“That won’t be necessary.” A deep voice, smooth and rich, reaches me, sending an electric current up my spine.

The restaurant is busy and there’s a flurry of people—both staff and customers—milling around. The crowd is mostly college kids and young professionals, given the proximity to campus. The afternoon game playing over the speakers, along with the dull roar of conversation, is loud enough that I’ve had to practically yell across the table at Ellie and her date ever since I arrived.

But that voice. He’s not yelling at all. He’s close and his words are seemingly just for me.

I feel him at my back and I turn suddenly to find him standing less than a foot away from me. People squeeze past us, but he stands firmly planted in front of me, hands in his pockets, dark blond hair, longer on top, falling in that cute, fucked-up way that says he doesn’t give a shit.

He towers over me. Admittedly, I’m on the shorter side, but I’m craning my neck more than usual just to take in his handsome face. A sprinkle of stubble along his strong jaw, a smirk tugging on his full lips, and his warm brown eyes locked on mine. His black T-shirt stretches over his biceps, and my gaze is held by the dark swirling tattoos that make up a full sleeve covering his right arm.

Damn. Bottomless eye candy to complement the mimosas perfectly. And I have to leave. What a fucking bummer.

“Sorry tats. I’d love to stay and play, but I need to get my girl and her date home since they’re thirty seconds from falling asleep in that booth.”

He says nothing while he studies me, that perfect smirk still in place.

“Yes,you’rehot.I’mhot. We could have hot timestogether,” I say, placing my hand on his bicep, giving it a squeeze. Muscles honed to perfection. And yes…yes, I’m going to be sad that I missed this opportunity for weeks to come. I shake my head. “But it’s not in the stars for us, friend.”

“Dylaaaaaaaaan,” Dominic sings from behind me. He stumbles over and practically falls into this guy’s arms. “Ellie.” Dom spins around, leaning heavily onto Dylan for support. “This is my roommate. Dylan. Ellie. Ellie. Dylan. Oh, and Dee. Dee, her roommate. And Dylan,myroommate. Ellie. Dom. Dylan. Dee.” He points to each of us as he rattles off our names, and I bite my lips to keep from laughing.

My god, the hangover these two are about to face will be ruthless.

“Okay, Dom. I think you’ve managed to introduce us all a thousand times over,” Dylan says, slapping Dom in the stomach as he manages to hold up his buddy’s weight.

“Well, this was fun,” I say, returning my focus to my phone. “You get your guy home safely, and I’ll get my girl. Come on, El. Kiss your boy toy goodbye. Time to go.”

I scroll through my ride app, internally debating whether I’ll ask our driver to stop by the McDonald’s or Taco Bell drive-through on the way back to the apartment that Ellie and I share with our other roommates.

“Fuck,” I mutter, realizing we’re either waiting forty-five minutes for the next available ride or we’re walking. Stupid game day crowd.

I take a peek at Ellie, who is now making out with Dom in the booth like they’re in fucking middle school. Yeah, walking home would be a shit show.

“I’m going to go ahead and assume that your phone is telling you that you’re going to be watching that sloppy make-out session for a long time waiting on that ride.”

I sigh. “Let me tell ya, Dylan, the roommate, it does not look good.” I drop into the seat across from the happy couple, rest my head back along the booth’s cushion, and close my eyes. “We should probably order a round of water. There’s a small chance they’ll get dehydrated in the year it takes for our ride to show up.”

He laughs, dropping into the seat next to me, the sudden jostling forcing my eyes back to his. He tips his head toward the door. “I’m parked outside. If you can get her out of Dom’s lap, I’ll drag his ass out of here and give you two a lift home. If you want.”

“On one condition,” I say, holding up my finger in the air between us.

“Name it.”

“We get Taco Bell on the way.”

His answering smile—perfectly tilted, softening the sharp angles of his jaw—confirms I just found the perfect partner in crime to get me through my sober-friend responsibilities.