Dylan took a bow and left the stage with his guitar, disappearing through the side door where Lea had gone looking for Dylan earlier. Lea passed Joy’s table and eyed her empty glass. She asked if Joy wanted another beer.
It wasn’t even ten thirty, and she wasn’t ready to turn in. She’d already checked in with Mark and called her parents. The rest of the night belonged to her.
“Yes, please. Sierra Nevada.”
“Make that two.”
Joy smiled up at Dylan. She’d hoped he would come say hi before he left.
“May I sit?” he asked when Lea left with their order.
“Please.” Joy moved her purse off the chair beside her.
Dylan dropped into the seat, stretching out his legs. He raked his hair off his forehead and watched her with a hint of a smile. “What’re you doing here?”
“I’m staying at the hotel a block up. It was too early to turn in and I wasn’t tired, so I decided to come. Hope that’s okay.”
His smile broadened. “Totally. Why would you ask?”
“You didn’t invite me. I didn’t think you’d want to see me again.”
“I didn’t think you’d want to come. I’m glad you did, though.”
“Me too. This was by far a better side trip than that museum I dragged you to.”
“Tell me about it,” he said on a short laugh.
They shared a smile and Joy felt a connection. She reasoned it was over a mutual dislike of museums with odd curiosities and a love of music. Lea returned with their drinks. Dylan pulled out his wallet and Lea refused payment. “On the house.”
“Thanks.” He slid his wallet back into his pocket and raised his glass. “What should we toast to?”
“To new friends?” Joy suggested.
“New friends,” he agreed. He took a deep drink and set down the glass. “Speaking of friends, it was cool to see a familiar face in the crowd.”
“You’re welcome,” she said, but she sensed he was downplaying her attendance. He’d seemed relieved when he spotted her, as though she were a lifeline. She didn’t ask about it, concerned she’d make him feel more uncomfortable than he’d first appeared onstage. Instead, she asked about the gigs he had lined up for the rest of his trip. Maybe she could arrange her travel schedule so that she could see him play again.
For the next couple of hours they talked about touring and concerts. Dylan enlightened her with stories about the musical festivals he attended while living on the road with his dad and how his and his cousin Chase’s first paying jobs were to tune their dads’ guitars before every performance. Joy was looking at Jack’s bona fide guitar tech.
“He always told me I had a better ear,” Dylan explained.
“You have a better voice, too.”
“You think so?” He sounded surprised.
“You don’t? You’re so much better. I think the audience thought so, too,” she said, then yawned.
Dylan glanced at his watch. “I’ve been talking your ear off and we both have long drives tomorrow.”
“What time is it?”
“Twelve forty.”
“Wow, already?” It hardly seemed any time at all had passed since Dylan sat down. But he was right: it was late and she wanted to be on the road early. “I should go,” she said, reluctant to leave. This time she’d surely never see him again unless their routes crossed over the next nine days.
“I’ll get my guitar and walk with you.”
“Do you need a ride to your hotel?” she offered, thinking his need of a lift was the reason he wanted to accompany her. From what she’d seen or heard, he hadn’t rented a car yet.
“Nah,” he said, standing. “We’re staying at the same one.”
“Oh.” She blinked, surprised at first. But it did make sense. The location to the bar was convenient given how late it was after his performance and a full day of driving.
He smiled and extended a hand toward the exit, inviting her to lead the way. It was a short walk over. The sky was clear, sprinkled with stars, and the desert night pleasantly warm. The motel had two floors where the room doors opened to the parking lot. Joy’s was on the first level three doors down from the office. Dylan still had to check in. She stopped at her door and offered him her hand. “It was nice meeting you, Dylan.”
He took her hand, and to Joy’s surprise he stepped closer. She could smell his spicy cologne and his salty perspiration from performing. She could feel his breath ruffle her hair, and a nervous flutter in her chest, as he leaned down and murmured against her ear. She held her breath. “Good night, Joy. Thanks for the ride.” He softly kissed her temple.
“Goodbye, Dylan,” she said.
He smiled and walked away.
The next morning Joy scanned her motel room one last time for any personal belongings she might have forgotten. Finding nothing, she picked up her suitcase and left the room. She closed the door behind her and stopped. Across the parking lot Dylan leaned against her car, aviator glasses on, guitar and duffel at his feet.
“Good morning,” he said, seeing her.
“Good morning,” she said.
Did he need a ride to the rental car agency? She should have offered last night. Their encounter had been brief, but admittedly, she missed him. After he kissed her good night, leaving her feelings in a warm tangle, she’d spent her entire bedtime routine—washing her face, brushing her teeth, selecting the following day’s outfit—thinking about Dylan, his vocals and that good night kiss on her temple. Then she thought of Mark, which made her feel guilty thinking about Dylan in the first place. She stopped thinking about either and focused on reviewing her planned route for today’s leg of her journey.
Joy walked across the parking lot. Dylan pushed away from her car.
“So, I was thinking.” He sauntered toward her, hands in his back pockets. “We’re both headed to New York with a similar travel schedule.”
“What are you suggesting?” Joy asked warily when he met her halfway.
“Seems pointless to drive two cars when we can ride together, don’t you think?”
Joy bit into her lower lip. Mark had offered to go with her. In fact, they’d fought over him going. He wanted to. She didn’t. She insisted on doing the journey alone. She also preferred driving alone.
As for Dylan, she hadn’t expected to see him this morning, let alone ever again.
“I’ll pay for gas,” Dylan said, sweetening his offer.
“I don’t know . . .”
“Let me ride with you to New York and you can check off another item on your sister’s list,” Dylan negotiated, changing tactics.
“What do you mean?”
He slipped his sunglasses down his nose, peered down at her, and slowly grinned. “I dare you to take me to New York.”
“That’s not fair.” Joy huffed. Dylan couldn’t be both make a new friend and do something daring items on Judy’s list. That would be cheating.
He moved in closer and lowered his voice. “I double dare you, Joy.” The rumble in his throat shot straight to her stomach and made her feel all sorts of things she shouldn’t be feeling.