Sway (20 page)

She looked over at Sam and Lacey. “It’s been hard on Adam,” she said, her hands absently running over the car’s hood. “I mean, he’s happy for Sam. It’s good to see him—you know—living again. He was so sad before. But Farrah was Adam’s sister. To watch Sam move on with someone…” She chewed on the side of her cheek.

I waited.

“It was really fast,” Britt said. “But they love each other. I think they’ll be happy together.”

“I think so too.” Lacey so badly wanted to be loved, and Sam desperately needed someone to love. How could it go wrong? If my life was any example, all too easily.

“And you?” she asked.

“Me what?”

“Eric is free now.”

I shifted my feet.

“So?” Her stare was so intent, I had to look away.

“So what?”

“So he’s coming this way.”

My face heated when I saw Eric headed right for us.

The smile Britt was trying to hide kept peeking out. “I’ll see you two later.”

Eric stopped beside me. We stood side-by-side, staring ahead at nothing, or maybe everything. He held out a bottle of water.

“Thanks.” I uncapped it and took a long swig.

“It’s hot out.”

“It’ll be murder on stage.”

“By the time we go on, things should cool down a bit.” His body shifted so he was facing me. “That’s the beauty of being last.”

“That, and the longer set list.”

He smiled. “That too.”

“Are you happy to be back?” I asked, motioning to our surroundings. I tilted my head, taking in his beautiful face.

“Yeah. I just hope it’s not too soon. The band really needed the break.” His fingers absently tapped the side of his leg—a nervous twitch we shared. “It’ll be awhile before we tour again though. We’ve got an album to record first. And a wedding.” His eyebrows pulled down in a frown.

“So you’re not—” I was going to ask him about Lacey, but when Eric’s eyes flashed to mine, I lost my nerve.

“Not what?”

“You’re happy for them? For Lacey?” I held my breath.

“Of course.” His eyes darted over my face as I let my breath go. “And yet…”

My breath stopped again—this time of its own accord.

“Lacey’s a great girl. Beautiful, open, fun, easy to be around.”

My stomach felt hollow. I wanted to press my hands into it. Instead, I clutched the water bottle with my fist, staring hard at the blue label.

“But you didn’t know Farrah Harville,” he continued. “She was…well she was an incredible woman. Sam and Farrah were so in love—real and deep without the games and the jealousy and all the drama. It was hard to watch them together, it reminded me of—”

My hand started to shake, sloshing the water inside the bottle.

Eric cleared his throat. “It’s a bit difficult to understand after what he had with Farrah. A man doesn’t get over a woman like that, not when he’s loved so hard.”

My eyes shot to his. The shaking from my hand threatened to spread over my entire body.

His eyes bored into mine. “He shouldn’t get over that.”

I was suddenly aware of Eric in a way I hadn’t been for eight years. His body, so close to mine. The intensity in his dark blue eyes. His lips—his beautiful lips—parted just a little as if waiting. Waiting for mine.

My body tingled and shook all over. I thought I might pass out or burst into a million tiny pieces. I grabbed onto his arm, more worried about what he’d think if I fainted than the sudden physical contact.

He looked down at my hand on his arm. “Ava.”

I couldn’t tell what was in his voice. A warning, or a wish?

“Eric,” I breathed.

“Eric, get over here.” Richard’s voice crackled behind me. I jumped, releasing Eric’s arm.

“You need to come settle this before it gets violent,” Richard said. “I don’t get why people get so upset over baseball.” He flashed me a smile, unaware of what he just interrupted.

Eric stared at me a second longer before Richard pulled him away.

The tingling slowly retreated from my body as the reason for it walked away from me, but my head still felt muddled. I replayed our conversation in my head, trying to make sense of it. My heart was saying Eric still loved me, while my mind searched for reasons why it could never be.

Chapter Thirty-Eight

Eric stood in a crowd of his band mates. My eyes kept going back to him like the chorus of a song. No matter how many verses I’d tried to live without him, the song wasn’t complete without the chorus. Without him.

I desperately wanted to finish our conversation, but fear kept me from pulling him aside. My heart ached for him so much that I couldn’t stand it anymore. It was making me uncomfortable. I had to slip away.

The crowd had doubled since I’d been backstage but the one person I wanted to see wasn’t there.

I pulled out my phone and texted Lexi.

Me:
U coming
?

After a few minutes I heard back.

Lexi:
Can’t right now. Emerg
.

Me:
What happened???

Lexi:
Nothing major. Just 2yr old meltdown
.

I breathed a sigh of relief.

Lexi:
Poop everywhere. So gross.

Me:
Ew
.

Lexi:
Mom’s threatening to quit babysitting
.

Me:
Sorry. Wish I could help
.

Lexi:
No you don’t
.

Me:
Well, maybe not with the poop
.

Lexi:
No prob. I’ll come when I can
.

Me:
Good luck
.

Sighing, I put my phone back in my bag. I wanted Lexi there. If anyone could stop me from obsessing over Eric, it was her. If anyone could kick my butt into action, she could. Not that she didn’t have enough problems of her own.

I sat on a blanket and tried to lose myself in the music. When that didn’t work, I tried to distract myself by listening to Mari and Beth bicker. When Sophia and Richard got back, I struck up a conversation. My heart thumped loudly with the need to know more about Eric. My palms were sweaty and it wasn’t because of the heat. I didn’t know how long I could take it—the not knowing, not understanding. The afternoon passed in a slow blur of saxophones, bridal-talk and hot California sun.

When the second-to-last act came on, there was no longer space for blankets or sitting. Lacey and Britt squeezed in with our group. I pressed my hands against my stomach. I didn’t hear the music. I didn’t see the crowd. My head was full of Eric.

Arms wrapped around my waist from behind. At first, I thought Lexi had finally arrived. But the arms were definitely a man’s; the smell a familiar cologne. And the words that whispered in my ear were ones Lexi would never say.

“Hey, babe, you smell like a dream.”

Gage.

I tried to pull away, but his arms tightened around my waist. “What are you doing?”

He rested his chin on my shoulder. “I’ve missed you.”

I twisted away from him. He looked at me, but those puppy-dog eyes didn’t work on me anymore.

“What are you doing here?” I had to shout over the noise.

“I came to see you.” He reached for me again. I crossed my arms over my chest but I had nowhere to go—the crowd was too thick. He put his arms around me in an awkward hug.

“Why?”

Gage leaned forward, his lips trying to reach mine. “You know why.”

I pulled away. “No, I don’t,” I shouted over the noise. “I told you I just wanted to be friends.”

A look of hurt crossed his face. “What, I can’t see you anymore?”

I sighed. “That depends, can you keep your hands off me?”

He let go of me and held his hands up. “I get it.”

“Do you? Because history suggests otherwise.”

Gage caught sight of Beth and Shelby and stalked away from me. I shoved my guilt to the ground, determined not to think of Gage another second. I’d been honest with him. It wasn’t my fault he wasn’t getting the point.

When it finally came time for The Eric Wentworth Band to perform, I thought I might pass out. My nerves were back, stronger than ever. While the crew set up the stage, Charlie bought hot dogs and chips for us. I sipped a can of ginger ale, hoping it would calm my stomach. I couldn’t eat anything.

“Come on, Ava,” Mari griped. “One hot dog won’t kill you.”

But I thought it just might.

The band filed onto the stage and took their places. The crowd had doubled again, a gigantic mass of bodies and screams and sweat. The air had cooled a little as Eric predicted, but among the audience, it was stuffy. We stood shoulder to shoulder, faces tilted toward the stage, waiting. Thousands of people covered the grass, all screaming for one man.

Nerves and excitement shook through my body. My feet wouldn’t stop shuffling. My mouth was open, screaming with the rest of the crowd even though I never meant to. I was caught up in the mob mentality. Except this mob wasn’t about torches and pitchforks. Instead of hate, it was all love. Love for Eric and his music.

The stage was dark. The instruments began. Trumpets, trombones, saxophones. Strings and drums. A piano and guitar. I couldn’t pick out each instrument but I knew they were all there—melded into one perfect sound. Lights flashed over the band like lightning. The screams around me got louder.

Then the spotlight blazed, highlighting a man standing at a mic. For a split-second, the crowd, the instruments, everything was quiet. Eric opened his mouth and let out one note in perfect pitch. The crowd went wild. It was pure magic.

I hardly noticed the bodies pressed around me. For me it was just Eric on that stage. I stared at him, drinking in every word, every note he sang, letting his voice and the music take me away.

Eric went from one song to the next and the next. Even though I’d heard him sing, had followed his career, I couldn’t help but marvel at his talent. I stood in awe of the thousands of people screaming his name and singing along. It was amazing and wonderful and inspiring and I cursed myself for never seeing him live before this.

A few times, I caught him looking down at us and I wondered if he could see me. My eyes never left him, whether he was dancing around the stage or standing perfectly still.

After another song, Eric stopped for a moment. He took a long drink of water and then leaned over to the pianist, telling him something the audience would never hear, even without all the screaming. Another quick drink, and then Eric grabbed a stool and walked to the front of the stage.

“Everyone makes mistakes right?” Eric said into the microphone. The audience hooted loudly and I laughed. In the background, the piano started to play quietly. “I’ve made some. Lots actually.” He sat down on the stool. The audience hushed.

“Sometimes mistakes make you stronger, better.” His eyes scanned over the thousands listening only to him. “But sometimes you spend your whole life regretting them.” The lights dimmed around the band while Eric glowed under the spotlight. His face shone with sweat.

“There is this one moment in my life that stands out. I wish I could go back, change what I did. What I said.”

My heart skipped a beat.

“Sometimes songs have all the right words when we can’t find them ourselves. Songs can apologize when we can’t find the courage. If I could go back to that one moment so long ago, to that one regret, I would take back all the stupid things I said…

“Instead, this is what I would say.”

Other instruments joined with the piano, a set of notes that rose and fell, rose and fell before stopping abruptly. A short pause, and then Eric’s voice.

My whole body froze, devoid of all breaths and beats and thoughts. Eric was singing “At This Moment.”

Tears stung my eyes. The song took me back to our breakup. When I’d hesitated. When my weakness and fear had ended things between us. He’d been angry. He had hurt me then. He ended it in one quick killing stroke, forcing me from his life forever.

These lyrics told a different story. A story of a second chance. Eric sang, and he was a man telling a woman he would never hurt her, even if she didn’t love him anymore. He sang, begging for a second chance.

His eyes, black under the lights, seemed to melt. I felt the plea in his voice. As if he wanted to go back to that moment and keep us together. His song seemed to beg for it. My heart begged for it too.

The lyrics came out like they were being torn from his very being. Eric’s eyes were clenched shut now. I dug my hands into my thighs, an attempt to keep myself from crumpling to the ground.

When the song ended, he gave one last long look out into the audience before turning around to face the band. The instruments started up a faster tune and my breaths rose with the beat. I sang along, my voice joining with Eric’s, my head bobbing, my body swaying.

Eric shrugged off his suit jacket and he looked the picture of old Hollywood in his pinstriped suit pants, white button-down shirt and skinny black tie. I wanted to reach out, wrap his tie around my hand, and pull him to me.

The beat moved my body. I felt loose and free and so completely happy. Like the crowd, I was wild, untamed. With my hands in the air, I felt like I could reach the sky. Or better yet, Eric.

An arm slinked around my waist and I looked over. Gage smiled. He lifted my hand above my head and twirled me around.

I wrenched my hand from his grasp and shook my head at him. He wouldn’t spoil this moment for me. When he reached for me again, I turned away.

My eyes traveled the crowd behind us and stopped on a familiar face.

“Lexi!”

From the corner of my eye, I could see Gage melt away into the crowd, but I didn’t pay attention to him. I stared at Lexi, at her face frozen in shock.

“Lexi!” I yelled again, waving. She probably couldn’t hear me but she was looking right at me. Suddenly she jumped a little, her eyes wide, and she turned away.

“Lex!” I tried to follow but the crowd was so thick around me, it was hard to push my way through. The audience swallowed her up and I couldn’t see her anymore.

I stopped. Digging in my bag, I pulled out my phone.

What the heck?
I sent to Lexi by text.
Where r u going?

Lexi:
Who was that guy with you?

Me:
That was Gage.

Lexi:
I have to go.

Me:
Why? What’s wrong?

She never answered.

When I got back to my group, Gage stood off to the side with Shelby. They seemed to be arguing but I couldn’t hear the words. I turned away. Lexi was the one I was worried about.

“This next song,” Eric said, putting the mic back into the stand, “is the song that got us here. The song that started it all. We love that you guys love it so much. So to the fans—this one’s for you.”

He launched into “No Two Hearts.” For a moment, I forgot about Lexi. I watched Eric sing and it was like I could see his soul bleeding out his mouth onto the mic, the stage, then into the audience. I felt his soul wash over me through the words and my heart bled for him. The audience was quiet as if they could feel it too.

Now we’re strangers and it’s killing me.

No. We wouldn’t be strangers anymore. I would tell Eric I still loved him, no matter the consequence.