Spencer Cohen Series, Book One (The Spencer Cohen Series 1) by N.R. Walker Read Free Book Online

laptop.
    He took his time scrolling. “I’ve not heard of half of these,” he said, his brow furrowed.
    “Most of them are Aussie bands.”
    He made a thoughtful face. “I’ll have to check them out when I get home.”
    “You can listen to them now if you want.”
    “I’d prefer to listen to this.” He smiled as Otis Redding started to sing.
    “So you play classical piano, but you like jazz?”
    “Yes.”
    “What sheet music is on your piano right now?”
    He grinned at me. “‘Yesterdays’ by Art Tatum.”
    I blinked. “Who?”
    “Just the best jazz funk pianist to ever live.”
    “So wait,” I said, putting my hands up. “You learned classical, but you play jazz?” He nodded sheepishly. “And you said you weren’t cool? Or interesting? Jesus, Andrew. If there was a magazine called Sexy and Cool Cartoonographers Who Play Jazz Funk Piano and Watch Stanley Kubrick Films , you’d be on the cover. Of every issue.”
    He laughed, long and loud, and his cheeks tinted pink. Then he slid my phone back across the table to me and sat down in the seat next to mine. I’d typed Eli’s name into Facebook to see who or what came up. There were a few, so I scrolled down the list.
    “That’s him there,” Andrew said.
    I let my finger hover over the icon. “Have you checked out his wall lately?”
    Andrew shook his head. “No.”
    I clicked on his picture and Andrew looked away from the screen. “Everything okay?” I asked him.
    “Yeah,” he said, looking at me, but avoiding the laptop. “I just don’t want to see if he’s…”
    “If he’s posted pictures of himself with someone else?”
    Andrew nodded. “I hadn’t thought about that until you asked me if he was seeing someone else.” Then he shook his head and narrowed his eyes. “And here I am trying to bait him into coming back to me. Kinda sad, huh?”
    “No,” I said gently. “Above all, you want answers. And that’s what we’re doing.”
    “Getting answers?”
    “Yep.”
    “That I may or may not like to hear.”
    I sighed. “It’s a possibility,” I told him. “You might not like what he has to say, but wouldn’t you be better off knowing?”
    He nodded.
    I scrolled down Eli’s timeline. “He really should change his security settings.” I could, as a complete stranger, see almost everything about him. Other people had tagged him in memes or jokes. He’d made a few posts over the last few weeks. “He never mentioned moving out or your separation,” I said, and only then did Andrew look at the screen.
    But then, posted earlier in the week, he was tagged in a conversation about this weekend. “Who’s Terri Santos?”
    “Eli works with her. They’re friends though. We’d go out with her sometimes.”
    “She says here they’re going to the Basement for her birthday drinks and asked him if he wanted to join them.”
    “When?”
    “Tonight, at eight.”
    “What did he say?” he asked, as he leaned in to read the post and comments in question.
    I paraphrased Eli’s reply. “Said he doesn’t want to be sick for work tomorrow, but he might call in for a few.”
    Andrew looked from the screen to me, and I realised how close we were. His blue eyes had flecks of grey in them, which I’d not noticed before. He was so good looking, he smelled damn good, and he was so, so close.
    “What are you thinking?” he asked.
    Shit. “About what?” Because what I was thinking about was sliding my hand along your jaw and kissing you. I bet you taste as good as you smell…
    “About Eli, of course.”
    “Oh, right, yes. Of course,” I said, shaking my head of the stupid thoughts I’d just had. “We should go. You and me, to the Basement, tonight.”
    “Oh.”
    “If we want Eli to see you on a date with another guy, then we need to actually go out.”
    “On a date?”
    “We know it’s not real, but he won’t.”
    He seemed to think this over, as though he was wondering if he wanted to do this at all. “Okay.”
    “Are