Blue Horizons (A Horizons Novel Book 1) (25 page)

“Ms. Layne,” says Mr. Lang.

Ava pulls back and blinks but she never breaks eye contact with me.

“Mona here told me that wandering through eager fans isn’t something you usually do, so thank you for taking the time to come out here and for allowing me to introduce you to our supporters, especially this one. This venue isn’t overly large, so if you feel up to mingling after your performance, everyone here will be kind to you, I assure you.”

He’s so proud of himself and this event, as he should be, but there is no way she’s going to walk through this room, and if I get my way, she will be leaving with me.

Neither of us acknowledges him and from the corner of my eye, I see Mr. Lang’s head bounce back and forth between the two of us. I can’t take my eyes off of her and can’t get my mouth open to say anything. The woman standing next to Ava shifts her weight—this must be Mona, and she has to be the same Mona she called from my car. She must be Ava’s manager.

Someone steps up next to me to join our little circle and I feel an arm wrap around mine.
Juliet
. Ava’s eyes glance over to her and then flick down at the same time Juliet slides her hand down my arm and lightly grasps my hand. Ava looks back at me one more time, her face paling. The expression in her eyes has never been clearer—she is angry and hurt, and the walls that had gradually come down over the last couple of weeks are slammed back in place.

Shit!

I should have been honest with her about Juliet. The problem is I wasn’t being honest with myself. How do I explain my relationship with Juliet to her? She never would’ve understood, and if I’d said something sooner, she never would’ve let me get to know her the way that I have. She feels betrayed and I did this to her. I feel like a complete and utter ass.

She returns her gaze back to Mr. Lang and squares off her perfect shoulders. “Thank you so much again for allowing us to perform this evening. Believe me when I say, I’m glad I came this evening for more reasons than one. After the show, we have plans to head back to New York and wish we could stay to mingle; what you have put together here tonight is truly marvelous.” Her eyes skip back to Juliet before they land on me. “Mr. Ashton, it was a pleasure to meet you.” The tiniest bit of sarcasm is interlaced between her words, and it’s definitely meant for me. Her cheeks are flushed, and with one last look, she dismisses me and turns towards her manager.

“Mona, we’re ready to go get started.” Mona’s eyes widen as she takes in Ava’s flushed and stiff appearance.

“Of course. If you’ll please excuse us . . .” She and Ava both turn to smile at Mr. Lang one more time before the group turns to walk away.

“Avery, wait.” Desperation in my voice hangs in the air over all of us, and wow, did it feel weird to call her by a different name.

Everyone stops, and as she faces me, her eyes are glassy as they regard me. Disappointed hope shines back at me and my teeth clench together. There is no way I’m letting her walk away like this. Without taking my eyes off of her, I lean over and whisper in Juliet’s ear. Juliet tenses, looks up at me questioningly, but then takes a step back releasing me.

“Before you go, dance with me.” I put my glass on the table, hold my hand out to her, and she looks down at it. More people around us have stopped to watch our exchange and I don’t care. Her eyes slide up my arm, over my chest, and settle on mine. She has to see the pleading in them, because I am—I’m desperately pleading that she not leave me, not yet.

Slowly she lifts and places her hand in mine.

Heat races up my arm as I tighten my fingers around hers. Pulling her away from our little crowd, I hear a gasp come from behind us as I walk her to the dance floor. There are quite a few people surrounding us, but as recognition takes over, the space widens. Whatever, let them watch; let the whole world watch. I want them all to see us together.

“Ash, what are you doing?” Her breath floats across the skin on my neck as I pull her in close. Her free hand slides underneath my jacket and around to my back. My hand settles on her hip and my eyes drift shut as I lean my head down to rest next to hers.

“I saw your face, Ava. I couldn’t let you walk away without saying something,” I whisper in her ear.

“Nothing needs to be said; I understand.” There’s sadness and resolve in her words.

I pull our joined hands between us, and see that the cast is gone. In its place is a neutral-colored brace. I carefully kiss her fingers, and rest them against my chest. “No, I don’t think you do.” The air crackles around us as I breathe her in: her hair, her skin, her presence.

I flatten her hand over my heart, like I have several times before, only this time I hope that she feels how hard my heart is pounding. She’s doing this to me.

“Do you feel that?” I push her hand harder against me. “It’s for you, all of it, it’s all yours.” Every word and every moment we’ve shared, it has to have amounted to something. I have to erase the doubt that so easily slipped in.

“Avery,” a female voice comes from beside us. Pulling apart, I glare at her manager for interrupting us. The expression on her face is a mixture of astonishment and suspicion. Dismissing me, she directly faces Avery with a thousand questions flying out of her eyes. “We really do need to get going now.”

“Okay.” She glances back to me and gives me a polite “Hollywood” smile. I hate that smile. It’s the kind that looks perfect, but only touches the surface; there’s no connection to it. That just won’t do. My fingers squeeze hers—I won’t release her like this—and the warmth returns to her eyes.

“Nice hat, by the way,” she says softly.

Taking a step away from me, her hand drops and an emptiness rushes up my arm and settles into my chest. I feel the separation instantly, and I’m frozen to this spot, watching as she heads toward a door leading them to a private hallway, not glancing back once. Mona leans over and says something to the guy following them around, and he sprints off to the back.

“Most of the time, these tabloids airbrush so much one can never be sure as to what someone really looks like, but she’s just as beautiful in person as she is in the magazines, don’t you think?” Juliet has stepped up next to me.

There are more questions than just this one lingering in her voice, but I’m not ready to answer them and my hands sink into my pockets seeking the warmth they had found with Ava—I mean, Avery.

“Hmm, yes, she’s very beautiful.” How did I not put two and two together? All that time I kept thinking she looked familiar, and this is why. Stupidly, I had thought it was more than an exterior recognition, but I was wrong. Everyone knows Avery Layne—it’s a household name—and I feel like an idiot.

“I’m so excited to see her perform this evening. Word on the street is she canceled some of her recent shows and hasn’t performed in weeks.”

“She did cancel them. She broke her wrist,” I volunteer without thinking.

Juliet stiffens and turns to face me. I don’t want to look at her and see the confusion in her eyes, so I remain focused on the door that Avery walked through.

“How do you know that? Do you know her?” There’s a wariness in her voice. She’s not going to like the answer, or maybe she will. I’m probably blowing this out of proportion for nothing.

Clay walks over with three glasses of champagne and his gaze bounces back and forth between the two of us. He feels the tension and his eyebrows furrow. Looking at my best friend, he raises an eyebrow at me, but all I can do is shake my head no. Having this conversation with him or Juliet right now just isn’t going to happen. Without saying a word, I take one of the glasses, walk out of the hall into the lobby, and climb the stairs that will lead me to the balcony level. No one tries to stop me, maybe it’s the look on my face, but I’m grateful.

Looking around, there are only a few people up here, and I’m relieved. Wandering over to a cocktail table next to the railing, I peer down towards the stage and see Clay and Juliet deep in discussion. My heart aches; I should have told her on Thanksgiving.

I hate that I feel lied to somehow, even though we agreed to keep our regular lives out of it. She did exactly what I did, and I should understand why better than anyone. “Pull yourself together, Ash. Process quick and lock it down,” I mutter to myself.

The side door to the stage opens, Emma and Cora walk in, and wow, they too look just as amazing tonight. I had been so focused on Avery, I never even really saw them standing right next to her. Three seconds after, Avery follows behind. The random guy tries to usher them along, and none of them spares him a glance. As he reaches Avery, he grabs her arm to push her along, and she jerks backward out of his grasp. I see red and heat floods my face. No one touches her. Emma, who’s standing closest to her, sees this interaction and storms toward them. Leaning into his personal space, she fires something at him and I realize I’m white-knuckling the railing. I would’ve loved to hear what she said.

Why is that guy even with them? He’s too small to be a bodyguard, he’s not talking to the press so he isn’t a publicist, and he’s not their agent—that woman Mona is. It makes no sense to me. And why did he put his hands on her? Is he stupid enough not to realize she doesn’t like it? He has to have been warned.

Emma takes Avery’s elbow and the three girls walk to the middle of the stage. Avery takes a seat at the piano, fluffs out her skirt, and my heart starts pounding in my chest. Emma picks up a violin, and Cora takes up a cello. I am certain by now Clay is filling Juliet in on our summer.

Avery, Emma, and Cora are even more well-known than I am. The three of them can create any genre imaginable and are sought after by everyone. From opera to pop music, they are incredible. Their signature sound is classical pop, think Taylor Swift mashed with Mozart. Most recently, I saw them in a commercial performing a flashmob for the #ShareaCoke campaign in Times Square. Little girls love them and so does every red-blooded male out there—including me.

“Good evening, ladies and gentleman.” She’s leaning forward into the microphone and out toward the audience. “I’m Avery Layne and these are my two very dear friends, Emma White and Cora Rhodes. We’d like to thank you for coming out tonight on behalf of NO MORE. NO MORE is a symbol. It is a symbol that is used to increase visibility of the reality of domestic violence and sexual assault. Every dollar raised is directed to one of hundreds of partner organizations in hopes to create more awareness and provide resources that will touch the lives of individuals affected. I personally hold this symbol very dear to my heart. I have a friend who could have benefited from what these amazing people do every day, and I wonder if just maybe her life would have turned out differently had she seen the symbol or felt the strength behind what it stands for.”

She looks over at Emma and the two share a knowing look. My heart aches because although she’s never told me any specifics, I know she’s talking about herself.

“To learn more about NO MORE, please visit their website or make sure you stop by and speak to any of the many volunteers who are here tonight. They’d love to hear from you.”

Racing her fingers across the keys, she looks back out over the audience and smiles. “We hope you enjoy the music tonight . . . most of it you will recognize, but we’ve thrown in a few new songs too. Thank you.”

With her hands on the keys, she glances over to the girls, and the three of them begin to play. Her hands move so swiftly, and the music is beguiling. As she closes her eyes and begins to sing, I’m spellbound. I knew I was falling for her before, but it’s in this moment I know I am completely in love with this girl. She owns every part of me and I’m hit with the realization that I know exactly what to do next. My life has always been about the music, but listening to her beautiful voice, it’s as if all the unknown pieces have found their way together, becoming complete.

Time passes. I’m not sure how long I’ve been standing up here, or how many songs she’s played, but I feel someone come up next to me. Glancing over, Clay leans against the edge, his eyes are focused on the stage. His arms are crossed over his chest; he’s closing himself off and I’m not sure why, but it’s easy to see he’s just as mesmerized as I am.

“I don’t even know what to say right now.” He runs a hand through his hair and lets out a sigh.

“Yeah, that makes two of us.” Silence falls between us as Emma takes two steps forward and solos on her violin. The sound of the strings is piercing and alluring.

“Did you know?” he asks, his eyes drinking her in.

“No, did you?”

He shakes his head. “No, she never said anything. I mean, I can understand why she didn’t, but seeing them like this . . .”

“Did Juliet ask you about her?” I look around the dance floor to see if I can spot her.

“She did. I gave her an abbreviated version of our time with them. She asked if you had feelings for her, and I hope it wasn’t too presumptuous of me, but I told her that although you haven’t said anything, I thought you did. She decided to call it a night and catch a cab to head home early.”

I let out a deep sigh and rub my hand over my face. “I guess it’s better she knows.” I do love her, I’m just not in love with her. I hate that she’s going to get hurt in the end.

“She’ll be fine. You know she wants what’s best for you.” He pats me on the shoulder and a look of understanding passes between us. “Come on, let’s go down there and wait for them to get finished.”

We take the large staircase down and walk along the wall toward the front of the stage. I figure this is as good a spot as any to try and catch up with her as she leaves. She must have questions and I’m ready to answer them.

“All right, ladies and gentleman, we hope that you all have had a wonderful evening. This will be our last song of the night, and even though I can’t take credit for writing this song, I have always loved what it has meant to me. Life can change when you least expect it, and the person who inspired me to sing this one tonight has changed mine for the better. It’s called ‘That Place in Time.’”

She leans back and the strings cut into the silence with the opening bars. Avery’s eyes close as her fingers play the chords on the piano that I usually play on the guitar. She leans into the mic, begins to sing, and another piece of my heart breaks off and is now forever hers.