by PetalsToFish on archiveofourown.org
His eyes were alluring, dark and framed by a pair of square shaped frames that alluded to intelligence. Lily supposed if she had to place him in a category with another singer, he would've been a comparable likeness to Hozier in sound. Hairstyle too, if this bloke had lighter hair. His jet black curls bounced all over his face as he hung into the mic while playing the piano.
Fuck, he was hot though.
Definitely not from Nashville, but Lily didn't mind that in the slightest.
Country singers from all over Nashville came to the little bar downtown where Lily worked because record labels sent their managers to find singers like her ex-boyfriend all the time. Lily had long since learned to drown out singers, especially male ones, because they only offered distraction from her next tip.
This guy had never been there before, a random singer who'd picked up a slot after some other hopeful singer dropped out for a better gig. Lily would've recognized him, if only because he sounded so different from the normal western twang and deep guitars she was used to hearing.
Working in a Nashville bar had certainly made her learn to hate country music but nothing made her abhor the music more than her ex, Todd. He'd played every hour of every day. He'd spoken with a stupid fake twang and tried really hard to be like a blonder Blake Shelton. In shorter terms, Lily couldn't even look at Blake Shelton without feeling nauseous now.
Lucky for her, this random guy called Potter, he played a mixture of influences like jazz, pop and folk. It was rather intriguing to hear each song he sung, if only because they were different from what she normally heard. She found herself stepping in time to the beat he played on the keys of his piano as she crossed back and forth across the bar top, delivering drinks and finger sandwiches.
"He's a new one." Albus, one of the regular old cowboys, nodded to Potter up on the stage, "can't say I hate him either."
"He'll get picked up fast." Lily agreed, wiping down a ring of water on the bar, "he's cute, talented and can clearly write his own songs."
Lily looked up from her tip collecting to find his hazel eyes back on her as she crooned into his mic. He had a soft, deep voice that Lily imagined she could listen too a long time. The night was slow, Lily leaned on her bar and watched him play. The more she watched him, the more he caught her eye.
It lasted all night, his stares. Lily was only drawn away from Potter and into customer conversation when some of her regulars came in. She was laughing deeply, her fingers pressed on Marlene's shoulders when she realized that Potter had left, ran away, without coming her way.
She tried not to be disappointed. It probably would've never gotten anywhere thanks to Lily's sudden distaste for musicians. It was better for her that he hadn't tried to shoot his shot. She would've just disappointed them both.
And then Potter returned two days later during lunch hour to strum a few chords with a group called The Marauders. He was head of vocals with The Marauders too, but there was something alluring about the man when he sang alone. In the group, he only faded into the mold of another country band trying to make it big. Alone, he shone like a superstar who just loved to sing.
She watched him during the four song set, eyes tracing the form of his jeans (and the ass in those jeans) expectantly. Lunch rush came in and she was forced to pay more attention to the bar than the music. That's why it surprised her when Potter fell into one of the bar seats when he was done playing. She stopped breathlessly in front of him, red creeping up her cheeks from running around delivering drinks.
"Hey there Bartender," he said with the slightest southern accent, "was hoping I could ask you for a drink?"
"What can I get you?" she asked politely.
The man held out a piece of napkin. Lily tilted her head and reached out, surprised to find his name and number written on it.
James Potter. 760793788.
Lily looked back up and found he was smiling a wide and white grin directly at her. He was absolutely the hottest bloke she'd seen in at least a week. His jawlines themselves could've held up their own conversation.
"I'm Lily," she said, tucking the paper into her bra.
He replied softly, eyes following her hand before shooting back up, "you might remember me, I'm the bloke who stared all night, then ran away."
Lily tucked her red hair behind her ear, tugging on the strands that always got stuck in her gold hoops, "I remember."
"I got a bit nervous, you see." he said, "a pretty bartender kept looking at me."
She pulled out a glass and filled it with beer, placing it in front of him with a coy smile that sent his own face flaming. Lily was forced to run away from him that time, but the liquid courage kept him at the bar. By the time lunch rush left, she was almost finished her shift.
When she glanced over, he was watching her, "time for a break?"
She shrugged, "almost done, actually."
Lily chewed her lip, then decided she might as well entertain the bloke, since she had to wait another half hour for her bus home anyways. James watched as she came around the bar, pulling her jeans up higher on her hips as she walked over. Her boots were painted with flowers today and his hazel eye traced every flower with interest.
"I like your boots." James said, eyes shooting back up to her face.
"Thanks," Lily smiled, "I like your music."
He had such a boyish grin that promised her laughter if only she waited a while, "you wouldn't happen to be a music producer on the side, would you?"
Lily knit her brows together, "no, why?"
"Good, because I was worried you were only on my side of the bar to offer me a contract."
Lily's eyes fluttered up into her hair, "you don't want a singing contract?"
"Of course I do," he scoffed, patting the empty chair beside him, "but I wanted you to fancy me back, more."
Lily snorted, falling into the seat beside him and motioning to her co-worker Mary to bring them both whiskey sours, "what kind of man says, fancy ?"
She was flirting, damn her.
James smiled even wider, "the posh kind, with two Brits for parents."
"Ah," she crossed one leg over the other, aware his eyes were taking in her every curve, "no accent though?"
"Lost it when I was ten."
"Tragic," she shot back, "we American's love a good accent."
He laughed and it was as warm sounding as his musical genre, "I can do a pretty good imitation southern drawl."
"Don't." Lily said quickly. "That accent has gotten pretty old around these parts."
"I can't imagine why."
James and Lily just smiled at each other. Lily took the whiskey from Mary and knocked half of it back. James sipped his carefully before putting it down and facing her again with a bold look in his hazel eyes.
"Look, I'm normally the kinda bloke that takes this kinda thing slowly," he said, "but nothing about you makes me wanna be typical."
Interest peaked, Lily felt the corner of her mouth quirk, "oh?"
"Wanna go on a date with me?" he asked, "tonight?"
"Where?" She was goading him, but she didn't care.
"The Gulch, 7pm." he took the glass of whiskey and shot it all back in front of her, making her eyebrows fly up even higher when he placed the glass back down and grinned at her with a wicked gleam.
She wanted him to kiss her already.
That meant trouble, for her.
Lily felt her heart beating frantically in her chest as she quickly turned him down, "I uhm, I have..."
"She's watching my kid tonight." Mary, who had heard the whole thing and seen Lily slinking back, dove in for the saving.
James looked disappointed but he didn't seem angry. Instead he placed a twenty dollar bill on the counter, smiled at Mary and then looked at Lily. She almost blurted out that Mary was lying, almost, but some irrational fear kept her from doing anything as James pulled a beanie on over his curly black hair. He looked her up and down once more before nodding politely at her and walking out.
Lily held her breath until his shadow had disappeared from the windows and then she let out one long breath, "fuck."
Mary leaned over the counter to smack her, "you two were cute!"
Lily shot her friend a look, "I'm better on my own, Mary."
Later that night, while she was by herself, she was cursing herself for not giving him the chance he so deserved. She'd been ogling him just as, if not more, when he'd been singing at the bar. Lily groaned as she kicked her feet up, watching her shadow dance across the wall, lonesome. She wished his shadow was curving next to hers and he was flashing Lily that adorable cheeky grin.
It was hard to tell, if she was truly better by herself, like she'd told Mary. Lily's last relationship with a musician had ended poorly, with the bloke cheating on her. First, with some woman who worked as a Reba knock-off at one of the saloons downtown and then another incident two weeks later with woman who did tours at the Country Music Hall of Fame. Lily caught him both times, with both women, in her own bedroom. It had been enough to make her swear off men altogether.
Lily went to work the next day and for some reason, every time she saw a man with dark hair with curls, she almost jumped out of her skin. Everytime they turned and it wasn't James Potter, she found herself a little disappointed.
Why hadn't she given him a chance?
Why did she keep thinking of him?
Lily's sister, of all people, noticed Lily's weird behavior the next couple of days. Petunia worked as a secretary for some business in town and had a normal job. That's probably why she worried so much and nit-picked over Lily's life. Petunia was worried Lily's end up pregnant and single forever, a tragedy in Pet's eyes.
"You're acting like you did when you broke up with Todd." Petunia noted over Sunday dinner with her husband, Vernon.
Lily sent her sister a small glimmer of annoyance, "I'm doing nothing of the sort."
"You haven't touched your cornbread." Petunia mouthed back, "what's wrong."
Lily sighed and placed her head in her hands with her elbows on the table to hold her face up. Petunia gasped in horror and demanded Lily keep her elbows off the table. Lily shot her sister the finger as she stood up and roved quickly to the front door. Petunia followed her out.
"What's wrong, Lily?" Petunia demanded, taking her sister's wrist and twisting it, "you look close to tears!"
"I'm fine." Lily complained.
"You're not fine." Petunia pursed her lips, "Mary even texted me to ask if you were okay, and that daft girl is as observant as a sinner in Church on Christmas Day."
Lily sent her sister another glare as she ripped her wrist from Petunia's grasp before falling into one of the porch swings out on Petunia's wrap-around porch. A few neighbors waved as they walked back and Petunia waved back to continue to put on her 'American house-wife' show before she fell into the chair with Lily, yanking Lily's sundress back over her hips.
"Honestly Lily," Petunia said imprudently, "I have neighbors who don't want to see your pasty legs when they look out the window." Lily glared even more at her sister who sighed and continued more carefully, "is this about the man that Mary said asked you out?"
Lily bristled, giving Petunia all the information she needed to know. Petunia's touch grew soft as she likely remembered the fall-outs of Todd. Lily had to move in with Pet and her husband for two months until she found a new apartment. Neither of them wanted to re-live that.
"If you don't try," Petunia whispered, "you'll never know."
"I know," Lily whispered, "but I keep thinking, what if someone tries to hurt me again? I'm just trying to make it, all on my own."
"Take it slowly." Petunia offered, "the next time someone asks you out, tell them you want to take it slowly."
Lily shot up.
What had Potter said?
Oh yeah, he said he was the kind of bloke who usually took relationships slowly. He said that before even knowing Lily, or her background. A flicker of hope rose in her chest and then instantly disintegrated. She'd shot him down, not only that, but shot him down in front of her friends who'd defended her.
" Fuck ."
"God Bless!" Petunia smacked Lily, "Language, Lily."
Lily went to work and kept waiting for him to show. Every night when she was by herself, she replayed what she wanted to say to him. She kept going over how she'd apologize.
Then he walked into her bar to sing alone, his guitar the only thing in his hand. They made eye contact and he smiled kindly, waving. Another flicker of hope rose in her chest as he got on stage and started his six song production. She took three shots of whiskey in a little under an hour, working up the courage to talk to him when he was done.
She asked Mary to cover her side of the bar when James finished singing. She raced over to him before he could go, rocking back in her boots when she almost crashed into him trying to leave the bar in haste. When their eyes met, everything tumbled out of her mouth like molten lava.
"I'm the kinda girl who likes to take these kinda things slowly," recognition flickered in his hazel eyes, "I know I said no thank you, but I can't seem to get you out of my head."
James cracked a smile, "well then, bartender, shall we sit down for a little while and get a drink?"