He didn’t want to go back to his room and sit.
Timmy patted the table. “How about a drink and a little New York style jazz, dude?”
“Yeah? I’m in, boo.” Oh, he liked this guy. He wanted to go and see, hear. Do.
“Birdland, Mellons. You coming?”
“Timothy, if you call me ‘Mellons’ again….”
“If the shoe fits, sister.”
Little Mel grinned at him. “Get out of here before I squash you flat.”
Timmy leaned in and kissed her cheek. “Yes, ma’am. I’ll see you at eight, I know. Come on, Colt. Mellons means business.”
“Timothy!”
Timmy laughed himself silly all the way to the sidewalk.
He followed along, bebopping to the music that seemed to be everywhere. “Thanks for the invite, boo.”
“Oh, yeah. Dude, I’m up for music any night, and you don’t want to hang out in a stale hotel room when you have this city at your feet, right? Oh, and by the way? Don’t change a thing, but up here when someone saysboo, they meanhoney. Like ‘that’s my boo.’” Timmy grinned at him.
“Yeah? ’Kay. Good to know.” He knew that it would pop out anyway. He was all about the habits, from chewing toothpicks to falling asleep toAbbey Road.
“So I saw the CV Nathan sent, dude. You get around, huh?” Timmy turned a corner, and they headed down a long block.
“I go where the music takes me.” It was the best life. His daddy would be damn proud. Prob’ly was looking down and grinning right now.
“You’ve got sick fingers, dude. I’m glad it brought you around here. You play anything else?”
“Anything you can pick, boo.”
He could see the flag that hung outside the club down the block, and the neon in the window drew his eye a second later. There was a line—not a long one; he’d seen worse—but still a line.
“This isn’t too bad. We should be golden, dude. Hey, stand with the neon; I’ll get a picture for you.” Timmy pulled out a phone.
He went to stand, posing like the littlest Cajun dork in history, hooting as he boogied and Timmy laughed.
“That’s rad. You got AirDrop? I’ll… send it… huh.” Timmy glanced up at him and then back at the screen.
“What? My hair weird?”
“No, dude. Kyle is asking about you.” Timmy laughed. “He thinks the whole world wants him.” Timmy started texting.
“The pretty one?”For true?He liked the thought of that, yes he did.
Timmy glanced up at him again and nodded. “The super pretty one. I was about to…. It’s cool, I wasn’t trying to freak you out, dude. I can tell him to simmer down… unless…?”
“You into him? I ain’t no poacher.”
“Aw.” Timmy laughed, a little embarrassed. “No. I thought maybe I was at first a while back, but no. He’s a lot of fun, but he’s a buddy, that’s all.”
“Bon amis are good, yeah? Better than lovers sometimes.” He got that. Your friends didn’t fall out of your life near as much.
“A lot of times, dude. Totally. So, what do you want me to say? You want me to tell him to chill, or are you interested?”
“I could be interested.” His cheeks burned some, but that was okay. A guy needed a little fun in between gigs.