Believe (The Brightside) by Katie Delahanty

Author:Katie Delahanty [Delahanty, Katie]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: band, rock star, Romance, Brightside, Maid of honor, Best man, Entangled, new adult, NA romance, Katie Delahanty, NA, Embrace, doctor
Publisher: Entangled Publishing, LLC
Published: 2016-10-23T21:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Mark VanCleer @BrightsideBP

So a meatball-eating zombie walks into a bar…

“I remember this place,” Mark says as Mama Rosie unlocks the bar. “The Neon Pineapple?”

“The one and only.” Smiling, Rosie turns off the alarm.

“Crazy.” He stares up at the fluorescent signage above the bar, the red light from the neon letters casting a pink glow on his pallid zombie skin. “Ted was obsessed with this place and its musical history. He brought us here the last time the Brightside played Pittsburgh. I remember the food was really good, and there was a waitress who sang to us? Elphaba?”

“Elzbieta,” Rosie says, flicking on the lights. “She doesn’t work here anymore—she went back to Lithuania. But you have an incredible memory. You must meet tons of people; how can you remember that?”

“The people I meet are my favorite part of touring. They’re what define a place. The cities are usually a blur—all we see is the inside of clubs and hotel rooms—but the people keep it interesting.”

“I’m impressed.” She hands me her keys, giving me a nod of approval. “Help yourself to anything. Just lock up when you’re done.”

“Do you need help getting upstairs?” I ask. Rosie lives in a tiny apartment above the restaurant.

“No. Tonight I’m feeling more like myself than I have in years. I can handle them. Enjoy yourselves.”

Before I can protest, she makes her exit, but not before giving me a glare that commands I sacrifice my heart to the zombie.

“Nice lady,” Mark says. “I remember her, too. But you—you weren’t here. You, I definitely would have remembered.”

Heat rises under my whiskers. “Oh yeah?” I tug him toward the kitchen, needing to escape to the walk-in to cool down. Don’t overthink things. Be yourself. See what happens. “How do you know I wasn’t studying in a corner somewhere?”

“Because we would have met. I would have made sure of it. I have a sixth sense for pretty girls, and I never forget a face.”

Pleasure ripples through me as I prop open the refrigerator door with a pony keg so we won’t get locked in.

“Were you here?” he asks, leaning against the walk-in door and folding his arms across his chest.

Rising to my tiptoes, I shrug, pretending to be busy rummaging through shelves but really wanting to give him a better look. “Maybe your radar was off that night…”

His jaw drops. “There’s no way I would have missed you. Trust me.”

The look on his face is so earnest I can’t help but giggle. “No, I wasn’t here. Which is unusual. I used to study here practically every night.” Finding the container of meatballs soaking in marinara—because that’s what I imagine us eating when I indulge in top-secret fantasies where he shows up at Rosie’s—I pull it down.

He considers me. “Don’t you think it’s kind of crazy?”

The sincerity in his voice halts my laughter and, grabbing a bag of mozzarella, I move to shimmy past him. “What’s crazy?” As I ask, my ballet-slippered foot slips on the tile that is wet from the keg’s condensation.

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