“You’re great.” He turned back to his bandmates, brimming over with enthusiasm. “He’s great. I like him. Can we keep him?”
“He’s a little stiff,” Hitomi noted, but she was smiling, and I thought if Peter didn’t step back, I would be a little stiff. It had been a long time since I played music for an audience, and it had been a long time since I’d had another man’s arms around me. Approximately the exact same amount of time, actually, but now was not the time to think about that.
“We can work on that,” Peter said, stepping back. He looked me up and down. “We’ll have to get you a costume, too. Unless you have something?”
I balked. “A costume?”
“Well yeah. It’s a renaissance festival. You can’t wear jeans and a T-shirt.”
“Oh.” And of course I’d be expected to wear a costume. Even when I’d been with Highland Toons, I’d dressed up a bit for every gig. Nothing wild, though. Usually switching out a kilt for my jeans. “I might have a kilt or two.”