Love in the Mix (Love in the Mix #1)

Chapter 2

two

LUNA

1 Year Later

T he late afternoon sun filters through the half-drawn blinds of my small apartment, casting long shadows across the hardwood floor. The air is stale with the faint and lingering aroma of last night's takeout. Is this really what my life is going to be now? Sighing loudly, I lean against the kitchen counter, allowing myself to get lost in thought, when the sudden sound of a key turning in the lock jolts me back to reality.

“I swear to God, if you don’t get laid soon, I’ll kill you myself.” Jeri’s voice booms through the quiet space as she barges inside, unannounced, dropping her rather large bag by my front door. The sound of the door slamming and the rattling of the few meager picture frames on my wall was enough to set my teeth on edge. I knew I would regret giving her a key one day. Looks like it’s finally here.

I sigh, reaching for another wine glass from the cupboard. The cabinet creaks as I open it, a small reminder of all the repairs on my to-do list. Fuck. "Well hello," I say flatly, pouring rich, burgundy liquid into the glass.

Jeri snatches the glass from my hand, continuing her rant as she paces the small living area. Her boots click against the floor, echoing annoyingly loud.

"Dude, it's been almost a year," she declares, taking a large gulp of wine. “How long is that piece of shit going to keep you from getting some dick? Hell, you haven’t slept with another woman in years ! Let me hook you up with someone.”

I remain motionless, leaning against the cool countertop. The kitchen's fluorescent light flickers occasionally, casting an unflattering glow on both of us. Jeri's black hair is slicked back from her face, and she's wearing her favorite flannel shirt over boyfriend jeans. The shirt is wrinkled, as if she'd grabbed it off the floor in a hurry.

"Jer, I appreciate your concern, but I'm not ready for that yet," I say softly, trying to avoid her intense gaze.

Jeri sets her glass down and walks over to me, placing her hands on my shoulders. "Luna, you can't keep putting your life on hold because of that asshole."

I sigh. "I know, but it's not that easy."

"I get it, trust me. But you've got to start somewhere. And I think I know just the thing." Her smile turns mischievous, a familiar glint in her eye that both excites and terrifies me.

"Why are you so interested in my love life all of a sudden?" I ask, my voice edged with annoyance as I take a large gulp of wine, the rich liquid coating my throat.

Jeri's eyes narrow, reflecting the dimming light. "It's not just your love life. When was the last time you performed?" Her challenge hangs in the air, heavy and unavoidable.

I shrug. "A couple of months ago. It's not a big deal. I've been working at the coffee shop more." The words taste bitter on my tongue. I take another drink quickly, feeling the alcohol burn a straight line to my stomach, warming me from the inside out.

"You used to travel and play gigs full time!" Jeri's voice rises, bouncing off the bare walls of the apartment. "What the fuck are you doing back here working at a coffee shop? Are you joking?" Her tone sets my defenses on high alert. I set my glass down on the cool granite countertop.

The room seems to shrink as I feel heat rush to my face. The ticking of the wall clock grows louder, marking each tense second. "I get to see you all the time. Why are you bitching about it? Also, what does this have to do with my sex life? If you want to fight with me, fight me bitch," I bite out, putting both hands on the kitchen island, leaning directly into her space. The smooth surface is cool against my palms, grounding me.

Jeri's smile, illuminated by the soft glow of the setting sun, makes me want to punch her in her perfect hazel eyes. I've heard purple is a complementary color to hazel, and for a moment, I imagine the satisfying sight.

"You've still got it. I'm proud to see you haven't lost your grip," she says, her casual tone throwing me off balance. The room seems to tilt slightly, like a ship on rough seas.

"Did you just bait me into, what, a fucking sparring match?" I can feel my rage burning in my face, the heat palpable in the small kitchen.

"Pretty much," she says with another shrug, picking up her glass again. The wine swirls, catching the last rays of sunlight streaming through the window.

Jeri sets her glass down and takes my hands in hers. "Luna, I love you. You're my best friend, and it breaks my heart to see you like this. I know you're hurting, but you can't let that bastard win. You're too talented to waste away in a coffee shop. I want to help you rediscover the badass DJ Luna Sparks that I know and love."

Tears prickle at the corners of my eyes. "I don't know if I can be her again, Jer."

"You can, and you will. That's why I'm here to execute part two of my plan." She moves back to the door and picks up her bag.

“And what is part two of this plan of yours?” I ask, feeling all the blood in my face drain immediately.

Jeri's excitement is palpable, her words rushing out and filling the room with a new energy. "You have a gig tonight. You're playing Club Nero at 11:00. That gives me exactly four hours to turn you back into DJ Luna Sparks, bad bitch musical genius." She begins to pull hair dye and tools from the bag, the plastic rustling and bottles clinking together.

“Jer, I?—”

“Do yourself a fucking favor,” she snaps. “Don’t fight me on this, okay? Trust me to help you. Please.” The pleading look on her face leaves me speechless. I nod, agreeing to this plan I wanted nothing to do with.

“Go pull out that black romper thing you have with the fringe, plus your black boots. I have gothic cowgirl in mind as your theme.”

I can't help but laugh at her enthusiasm. "Gothic cowgirl? Are you being for real?"

Jeri grins. "What did I say about fighting me? Now, get going, we have work to do!"