Raveling You
Page 39
But we did it.
Saturday night the tension in our lives briefly lifts like thinning fog. Because Saturday night is club opening night and our band’s first gig. I’m ecstatic the entire day until we’re actually at the club. Then reality kicks me in the face.
“Oh, my God, I think I’m going to puke,” I whisper as I peek out onto the stage. “There are so many people out there.”
“You’ll be fine.” Ayden rubs my back. “And just remember, only you and I are in the room.”
Easier said than done when there are two hundred plus people buzzing with energy all crammed into one room. We’re the first band up, too, something I sarcastically thanked my dad for.
“I’m suddenly wondering why I begged to do this so much.” My eyes remain fixed on the floor. In the midst of the madness, near the bar, I spot my mom and Aunt Lila throwing back shots. Awesome. Guess Ayden and I are going to be DD since they were our ride here.
Uncle Ethan and my dad are around, shuffling people here and there, dictating what to do. The last time I saw my dad, he looked like a wreck, his bedhead/fauxhawk look in full form. I’d feel bad for him, but he’s always said opening a club has been a dream of his for the last ten years, so I figure all the stress has to be worth it.
Most dreams are, right?
“Because it’s your dream,” Ayden reminds me as his hands travel up to my shoulders. His fingers work their magic, unwinding the knots in my muscles. “You can do this, Lyric. I know you can. You’re the bravest person I know.”
“Then you clearly don’t know yourself.”
“I’m not brave at all,” he utters quietly. “I couldn’t even make it through the start of my amnesia therapy without freaking out.”
I embrace his touch as his arms circle my waist. “You’ll get there. It’ll just take some time.”
“Tell that to Detective Rannali. He’s getting super pushy about doing more sessions, like the entire case is riding on it. I don’t get it, though. Even my therapist says the therapy isn’t a guarantee, that there’s a chance it won’t work.”
“Fuck Detective Rannali. It’s easy for him to be pushy and expectant when he’s not the one lying in that chair, facing what you are.”
“But I don’t even know what I’m facing.” He rests his forehead against the back of my head and his erratic breathing tickles the back of my neck. “I’m scared of what I’ll see.”
It’s the first time he’s flat-out admitted he is afraid. I wish I could take away his fear, wish I could free him from his pain.
“I’m here for you if you ever need to talk.” It’s all I can offer him, but I hope it’s enough.
“I know.” He grazes his lips across the back of my head. “Can we talk about something else now? Before I get all riled up.”
I nod. “Um, did you see all the freaking musicians when we walked in? I seriously about died.”
“Yeah, your dad’s got mad connections.”
“Sage is totally working it, too. He went right for the first girl he saw. I think she plays drums for one of the bands. I’ll give it to him. She’s pretty hot.”
Ayden chuckles under his breath. “I love how you can openly say stuff like that, but just so you know, you look hot,” he whispers in my ear, his breath hot on my skin.
I shiver from the caress of his breath and glance down at my boots, netted tights, and plaid dress that hugs my body. My hair is down, black liner frames my eyes, and my lips shine with gloss.
“So do you.” I whirl around to face him. His black hair hangs in his eyes, he’s wearing the leather collar because I suggested it would be fun to wear for one night, and he has on a red shirt and black jeans held up by a studded belt. “My gothically adorable friend.”
“You know, I think we should create a Lyric Scott dictionary and sell it online.”
“We’ll definitely have to look into that,” I agree, fiddling with the collar on his neck. “I have so many more words sloshing around in my head.”
I angle my head up towards his face. When our gazes fasten, our mouths magnetize toward each other. My breathing quickens and so does his. His dark eyes smolder with passion, and my skin hums with nearly unbearable heat. God, I want to kiss him all the time. It’s crazy how much I want to kiss him.
This is how it’s been between us for the last week. The moment we look at each other, we start making out and are unable to keep our hands off each other. I seriously feel like I have no control over myself anymore, and I’m kind of glad. I love, love, love losing myself in him.
I always have to be careful, though. Ayden has no problem with touching me, but I can’t even slip my fingers up his shirt without sending him into a panic attack.
“You guys about ready to go on?” Uncle Ethan’s voice instantly puts a lid on the moment.
We push apart, our breathing ragged. We turn to the side, and Ayden immediately withdraws his hands from my waist the moment he catches sight of Uncle Ethan’s questioning expression.
“Um…” Ayden struggles with what to say.
“You’re on in five.” Uncle Ethan’s attention flicks between the two of us before he hurries off toward the hallway where the rest of the bands are hanging out.
“Do you think he saw us?” Ayden asks worriedly as he faces me again.
I shrug. “I’m not sure. It kind of looked like it.”
Saturday night the tension in our lives briefly lifts like thinning fog. Because Saturday night is club opening night and our band’s first gig. I’m ecstatic the entire day until we’re actually at the club. Then reality kicks me in the face.
“Oh, my God, I think I’m going to puke,” I whisper as I peek out onto the stage. “There are so many people out there.”
“You’ll be fine.” Ayden rubs my back. “And just remember, only you and I are in the room.”
Easier said than done when there are two hundred plus people buzzing with energy all crammed into one room. We’re the first band up, too, something I sarcastically thanked my dad for.
“I’m suddenly wondering why I begged to do this so much.” My eyes remain fixed on the floor. In the midst of the madness, near the bar, I spot my mom and Aunt Lila throwing back shots. Awesome. Guess Ayden and I are going to be DD since they were our ride here.
Uncle Ethan and my dad are around, shuffling people here and there, dictating what to do. The last time I saw my dad, he looked like a wreck, his bedhead/fauxhawk look in full form. I’d feel bad for him, but he’s always said opening a club has been a dream of his for the last ten years, so I figure all the stress has to be worth it.
Most dreams are, right?
“Because it’s your dream,” Ayden reminds me as his hands travel up to my shoulders. His fingers work their magic, unwinding the knots in my muscles. “You can do this, Lyric. I know you can. You’re the bravest person I know.”
“Then you clearly don’t know yourself.”
“I’m not brave at all,” he utters quietly. “I couldn’t even make it through the start of my amnesia therapy without freaking out.”
I embrace his touch as his arms circle my waist. “You’ll get there. It’ll just take some time.”
“Tell that to Detective Rannali. He’s getting super pushy about doing more sessions, like the entire case is riding on it. I don’t get it, though. Even my therapist says the therapy isn’t a guarantee, that there’s a chance it won’t work.”
“Fuck Detective Rannali. It’s easy for him to be pushy and expectant when he’s not the one lying in that chair, facing what you are.”
“But I don’t even know what I’m facing.” He rests his forehead against the back of my head and his erratic breathing tickles the back of my neck. “I’m scared of what I’ll see.”
It’s the first time he’s flat-out admitted he is afraid. I wish I could take away his fear, wish I could free him from his pain.
“I’m here for you if you ever need to talk.” It’s all I can offer him, but I hope it’s enough.
“I know.” He grazes his lips across the back of my head. “Can we talk about something else now? Before I get all riled up.”
I nod. “Um, did you see all the freaking musicians when we walked in? I seriously about died.”
“Yeah, your dad’s got mad connections.”
“Sage is totally working it, too. He went right for the first girl he saw. I think she plays drums for one of the bands. I’ll give it to him. She’s pretty hot.”
Ayden chuckles under his breath. “I love how you can openly say stuff like that, but just so you know, you look hot,” he whispers in my ear, his breath hot on my skin.
I shiver from the caress of his breath and glance down at my boots, netted tights, and plaid dress that hugs my body. My hair is down, black liner frames my eyes, and my lips shine with gloss.
“So do you.” I whirl around to face him. His black hair hangs in his eyes, he’s wearing the leather collar because I suggested it would be fun to wear for one night, and he has on a red shirt and black jeans held up by a studded belt. “My gothically adorable friend.”
“You know, I think we should create a Lyric Scott dictionary and sell it online.”
“We’ll definitely have to look into that,” I agree, fiddling with the collar on his neck. “I have so many more words sloshing around in my head.”
I angle my head up towards his face. When our gazes fasten, our mouths magnetize toward each other. My breathing quickens and so does his. His dark eyes smolder with passion, and my skin hums with nearly unbearable heat. God, I want to kiss him all the time. It’s crazy how much I want to kiss him.
This is how it’s been between us for the last week. The moment we look at each other, we start making out and are unable to keep our hands off each other. I seriously feel like I have no control over myself anymore, and I’m kind of glad. I love, love, love losing myself in him.
I always have to be careful, though. Ayden has no problem with touching me, but I can’t even slip my fingers up his shirt without sending him into a panic attack.
“You guys about ready to go on?” Uncle Ethan’s voice instantly puts a lid on the moment.
We push apart, our breathing ragged. We turn to the side, and Ayden immediately withdraws his hands from my waist the moment he catches sight of Uncle Ethan’s questioning expression.
“Um…” Ayden struggles with what to say.
“You’re on in five.” Uncle Ethan’s attention flicks between the two of us before he hurries off toward the hallway where the rest of the bands are hanging out.
“Do you think he saw us?” Ayden asks worriedly as he faces me again.
I shrug. “I’m not sure. It kind of looked like it.”
