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“Not that much.” Ethan and I exchange a look of “yeah right.” Frustrated, she wipes her hands down her jeans. “Okay, if you must know, I spilled some on my jeans!” She looks down at her legs. “They make my ass look good so I refused to change.”
Ethan shakes his head in disbelief. “The things women do for fashion,” he grumbles, and then nods toward me. “So… Grayson,” his voice fades as if he’s going to ask why I am home.
Slowly sipping my drink, I smile at him, hoping it might deter questions. “What’s up?”
Please do not ask me why I’m home. Or anything regarding Evie.
Let’s face it, there’s a mile-long list of topics off the plate tonight. Lucky for me, he doesn’t ask about either.
There’s a subtle shift in his expression when he and Frankie exchange a look. “Would you care to play tonight?” he asks,grinning as he motions tipping his head toward the stage behind him. “I know it’s probably been a while, but I just thought maybe you might want to for old time’s sake?”
Squeezing the back of my neck, I watch him and Frankie closely because not all of me is convinced that’s what he was going to ask. I look down at the drink in my hand and then up. There’s a distant thump of a bass coming from the stage. My eyes are drawn there, where the sunset reflects off the lighting rigs. It sparks rays of gold, pink, and purple into the air and if I squint, it’s blurry like my thoughts, never focusing on anything other than the one I’m avoiding. Running my hand through my hair, I think about it for a minute. Remember what I said about being unprepared and how much I dislike it? Exactly my point. If I go up on stage, andshe’sthere too, I don’t know what will happen. But this is Ethan and I kind of feel like it might piss him off if I say no. I haven’t played in years, but I know I wouldn’t have a problem picking it up. I’d played nearly every day since I was three, I could do it, right? I sigh, conceding with a little bit of relief that he hasn’t told me to go to hell. “I’m not gonna lie, I’m a little rusty, but why not?” I admit, shrugging. “Let me know when you want me to come out.”
What the fuck am I thinking?
I’m not.
“Will do.” Ethan walks away and disappears behind the drum risers and speakers lining the stage.
Frankie eyes me, slurping her drink. “You’re gonna play tonight?”
I shrug, again. “I guess so.”
“You do realize she’s going to be here too. She’s actually standing twenty feet from you.” I follow Frankie’s stare to the parking lot where I can faintly see a woman leaning up against a speaker, staring at a cell phone in her hand.
As soon as I notice her, I turn to stone. I’m engulfed in both fear and anger rushing through me. I don’t know why I experience either emotion, just that they seem to battle for centerstage, and I’m left waiting to see which one will take over. And the more I try to justify my thoughts, the more difficult it becomes to breathe. She’s… breathtaking and so much more than what my memory of her created, and now she’s here, in the same vicinity as me, and I have no idea how to handle it. The worst part? Whatever it is going on inside me, it’s out of my control, and it’s an awful feeling—to have absolutely no control over your own emotions.
I stand frozen. I’m scared to move, terrified to breathe. I watch her, the roll of her shoulders and if I had to guess, there’s a sadness about her that hadn’t been there before. She presses her lips tightly together for a moment and then tosses her cell phone on a nearby table as she shakes her head. I look away because seeing that expression on her face cuts through my heart.
Folding my arms over my chest, I turn away toward Frankie. “I don’t know about this.”
“Don’t you dare do that.”
I tilt my head to look at her, chewing nervously on my bottom lip. “Do what?”
“Bitch out.”
I roll my eyes. “I’m not bitching out. I’m just…fuck. She hasn’t seen me in three years, Frankie. Do you really think this is a good idea to have our first encounter in front of everyone?”
“It won’t be in front of everyone. Promise.” I’m not convinced. She takes hold of my hand and drags me away. My heart smashes against the walls in my chest, thumping wildly and begging for a normal beat. I sneak one last look at Evie. She’s no longer standing where I can see her and I’m left with an emptiness in the pit of my stomach.
I blow out a breath and bring my hand to the back of my neck, squeezing tightly. Of everything that’s happened in the last few years, I’m the saddest about not telling that girl what she meant to me before I left.
6
EVIE
Why would you wear that? Are you trying to get fucked?
That’s the text Shane sent me five minutes ago. I try to look for the good in everyone. See the positive and make the best of it. And there’s even good in Shane. When he’s in his right mind, he’s tender and caring—persuasive and addictive, like you crave being around him for reasons you don’t understand. Until he’s not. Until you need to be wary of the boys whose love is conditional and circumstantial. Because they will only love you for what they can take from you.
“Evie,” Ethan groans from behind the stage where he’s tuning his guitar. “Come on already. You’re fuckin’ stalling.” Careful of his guitar, he reaches to the side for a shot glass overflowing with tequila. He swallows it back, squinting at the burn. “Get your ass out here.”
I’m sitting on the stairs, my face in my hands. I look up at him, scowling. “I’m not stalling. I’m nervous. There’s a difference.”
Leaning forward, he hands me a shot he poured, tequila splashing over his knuckles. “Try this.”
I take it. And I’m still a mess. I wish I could say no to him, but I can’t. Ethan would do anything for me and in turn, I do thesame. He’s protective by nature; it’s probably for good reason. I find trouble everywhere I go.