I wrapped my arm around a sleepy Fiona and pressed my lips to the crown of her head as our servers descended with pots of hot coffee. I wanted to keep her close, touch her constantly.
I had a sick feeling in the pit of my stomach I wouldn’t be doing this much longer.
Pop raised his cup of coffee. Angela beamed at him, and he returned the expression. “I don’t wanna get too emotional or nothin’, but I want to say thank you to everyone here. Thank you to Fiona. And to my son, Max, who I love a lot.”
I reached for his knee. “We only did it because we love you so damn much, if you haven’t noticed.”
Pop chuckled, rubbed his head. “Yeah. I notice some. But it means so much. All of it. So thank you.”
“Punk rock will never die,” Sandy cheered. We whooped and hollered.
Fiona stood briefly to hug Pop and Angela again. She pointed a thumb at Angela. “Pop, she’s definitely a keeper. Third date and she’s up all night like a true fan.”
Pop looked sheepish. “I guess you could say I’m also a fan of hers.”
Angela placed her head on his shoulder. “Life’s too short not to stay out late and make a few impulsive decisions.”
Fiona grinned. “That’s basically the Quinn family motto.”
She slid back in next to me. While everyone was distracted with the food being ordered, she poked me gently in the chest. “I missed you a lot tonight. Were you waiting for your mom?”
“I was, and I’m sorry I missed your stage dive.”
She hummed a little. “It was epic, like me.” She chewed on her lip. “You’re okay though, right?”
“Yeah, I’m just disappointed.” I stirred my coffee lazily. “I thought you’d get to meet her.”
I glanced up to catch compassionate looks on Mateo and Rafael’s faces. “It’s really okay,” I told them.
Mateo shared a look with his fiancé. Then leaned in, reaching over and grabbing my hand with a lot of strength.
“I know it’s kind of pointless, but I can’t let you get on that plane tonight without telling you that we want you to stay.”
Fiona stiffened. The past few days I watched her stay respectful of my decision. She really was a person who understood good jobs and important career choices. I knew she wouldn’t push.
But I caught flashes of sadness when we talked about it—when she wasn’t careful to stay upbeat. If I were in her position, and she was flying on out of here just as we were getting close, I’d be a goddamn wreck.
I sighed, covered Mateo’s hand with both of my own. “I love the hell out of you.”
“I love you too, hermanito.”
“And I’m still going to get on that plane,” I said gently. “This is a job I’ve wanted since I was a kid. It means something. I promise…” I cleared my throat. “I promise I wouldn’t be leaving right now if this was any old job I usually get. But I think a little bit of stability is good for me.”
Mateo smiled, but it was sad. “I hear you. I just don’t want you to go.”
“But I’ll be calling you when I get there. Calling you both.” I pointed at Rafael and Mateo.
Mateo stared into his cup of coffee. “We can’t go backwards again. Only forward, okay?”
“Okay,” I said firmly. “And we’ll be making a lot of mistakes in Vegas in no time.”
More food arrived, the scent tantalizing, and it hushed our conversations as we devoured every bite. Pop, Lou, and Sandy told us stories from The Red Room. Mateo and Rafael looked happy and tired and teased me about stuff from our younger days. I was pretty sure Roxy and Edward snuck off to have sex in the bathroom at one point.
And Fiona? She fell asleep. Like passed-out dead asleep with her head on my chest and my arms holding her tight. I laughed at the stories, and chatted with Mateo, and watched Pop and Angela be cute. All the while, I cradled Fiona like precious cargo and hoped against hope I could make this work.
She startled awake an hour into our breakfast, stretching her arms with a bleary look only for me.
“Good morning, princess,” I whispered, kissing her cheek.
“Morning,” she yawned. “You and Mateo were talking, and food was coming, and then…?”
“You passed out like an amateur.”
She scowled playfully at me over her coffee. “You’re so full of shit, Devlin.”
“I can confirm that,” Mateo added.
She checked her phone. “Pop, we should get your payments together and go meet the landlord. I want to be there to make sure no shady legal stuff goes down.”
Pop nodded. “Let’s do it. I’m ready.”
“Good luck,” Angela said. “I’ll be waiting for you to take me out to dinner tonight.”
Pop blushed furiously as Mateo and I exchanged a wide-eyed look.
Fiona slowly untangled herself from my embrace, knocking back the rest of her coffee. Her hair was snarled, wild. Her eyeliner was smeared. She still wore ripped jeans and a shirt with Blondie’s face on it. “Do I look like a lawyer with a pristine reputation?”
“You look like the bad-ass you always are,” Sandy said. “You give them hell, Fiona Quinn. I believe in you!”
“Thank you, Mom,” she said—looking softer and more accepting. “Let’s go, Pop. The day is young, and we’ve got punk clubs to save.”
She pressed a kiss to my forehead. When she looked at me, I was surprised at the questioning I saw there. The worry.
It only made me worry more.
“When’s your flight again?” she asked.
“Um… nine pm. Tonight.”
“And you’re coming to my place?”
“Yeah,” I said. “Of course. I’ll see you there. Bags packed and whatever.”
Fiona pasted a fake smile on her face.
A few seconds after they left, I hopped out of the booth and caught Pop on the sidewalk. Fiona was hailing a cab and looked kind of distracted.
“Hey, Maxy,” he said, hugging me again. “You okay?”
I shoved my hands in my pockets. “Mom didn’t show last night. I’m more disappointed than I thought I would be.”
He gave me a sort of sad look. “I used to always get excited when she said she’d be there for something. Or for me. She never shows, Max. It’s who she is. Doesn’t make it hurt less, though, especially if you got your hopes up.”
“I thought… I thought she’d meet Fiona. See what we did.”
“I know,” he said. “Believe me, I know. But it’s not personal, and it has nothing to do with how much she loves you. Some people let you down because it’s who they are inside. That’s your mom.”
And what if that’s me too?
Pop caught my train of thought. Because he pointed his finger right at my heart. “That’s not fucking you, Max. You hear me?”
“Yeah. I hear you.”
A cab was pulling up, and Fiona was calling for Pop.
“I’m happy, Pop,” I said. “I’m so happy you’re getting in a cab to go pay off the debt. A clean slate. You deserve it.”
“What are you gonna do now?”
I sighed. Because what I was gonna do was find Mom and ask her where the fuck she’d been. What I said was, “Head home. Get some sleep. Figure out some California stuff.”