Unconditional
Page 58
The first time you saw past the glossy act to the real, heartfelt soul beneath.
I try to catch my breath. Maybe I’m just overreacting, reading too much into a simple song. After all, Carina’s never said this was serious to her. We’ve never once talked about the future.
But you thought about it, the nights she fell asleep curled in your arms…
I let out a roar of frustration that’s swallowed up by the sound of the waves. I can make all the excuses I want, but I can’t hide from the truth any more.
There’s no misreading the look in her eyes as she sang to me.
There’s no running from the way I felt, watching her onstage.
This is different from anything I’ve ever felt before—more powerful, more wild, more consuming. And if I feel this way wanting her…
Imagine how you’ll feel when she leaves.
My heart clenches in my chest. I think of the future I want with Carina, the life we could build together. The family. A lifetime of waking up to her in the morning, and holding her in my arms at night. A home, children, everything my aching, broken heart has yearned for all these years.
And I know there’s only one thing I have to do.
24
I don’t see Garrett anywhere at the bar during my break, but I don’t have time to think about it, not with people crowding around paying compliments and telling me how much they loved my set. I can’t believe it, I’m still in shock, but after the fifth person smiles and says I did a great job, it finally starts sinking in that I didn’t make a total fool of myself up there.
“Are you playing anywhere else?” a college girl asks hopefully, clustered with her gaggle of friends.
“I don’t know,” I answer, flushed and breathless. “Maybe here, next month again? Would you come?”
“Definitely!” they chorus.
The crush of people around me is suddenly overwhelming. I make my apologies. “I’ll be right back,” I say, retreating to the doorway leading back to the offices. It’s quieter here, and I have room to breathe, adrenaline still thundering like stallions in my bloodstream.
I did it. After everything, all my fears and insecurities, I actually got up there and sang.
And I didn’t suck!
“Looks like you’re a hit,” Brit’s voice comes from behind me. I spin around so fast, I nearly spill my glass of water. She’s emerging from the back room and, to my surprise, the look on her face isn’t her usual scowl—it’s almost begrudging respect.
“Thanks,” I say, cautious. “I was a mess to begin with, I know.”
“But you came through for him.” Brit gives me a perceptive stare. “He must really mean a lot to you.”
I slowly nod. “He does.”
“OK,” she says, like something’s been decided.
“OK?” I blink, not following.
“You can do…whatever it is you guys are doing. I won’t stand in your way.”
“Oh.” I still don’t get it, so I just give her a shrug. “Umm, thanks?”
“But if you hurt him, I will f**king break you in two,” Brit adds casually. “Good luck with the next set!”
She disappears into the crowd, leaving my head spinning. That was…interesting. I guess in her own weird way, she was giving us permission.
Permission for what?
Then it all comes rushing back, how I just sang my heart and soul out—right to Garrett, in front of everyone.
My cheeks burn. Oh God, I can’t believe I did that, but something took me over up there on stage. For one sweet, reckless moment I felt free. Free enough to tell Garrett how I felt about him, the only way I knew how.
In that moment, it was all for him.
I look again in the crowd, but I can’t see him. It’s no wonder—the line for drinks at the bar is three people deep, and there’s standing room only in the bar. I feel a surge of pride. We did it: found a way to revitalize Jimmy’s, and this is only the opening night!
“Hey.” The voice is quiet, almost lost under the chatter of the crowd, but when I turn, Juliet is standing a few feet away from me. She hugs her arms around herself, the way she always does when she’s feeling awkward or nervous.
My heart skips. “Hey,” I answer slowly. I remember the last time I saw her, how devastated and furious she was with me. She swore it was too late for us. There was no mending the damage I’d done.
I feel a knot tangle in my stomach. “I didn’t know you were coming,” I say, looking away.
“Emerson said we should support Garrett,” Juliet replies. “He’s off…somewhere.”
I take a breath. “Did you see…?”
“You sing? Yes.” Juliet shifts her weight. “I didn’t know you did that anymore. Not since we were kids.”
I shrug, awkward. “I don’t. Not really. But the guy we got to play backed out at the last minute, and there wasn’t anyone else to take his place.”
“But you hate getting up in front of everyone.” Juliet’s forehead crinkles in a frown. “Remember when you got cast in the grade school nativity? You faked flu for a week just to get out of it.”
“And then you started pretending, too, like you’d caught it off me?” I remember with a grin. “We got to spend all day in front of the TV watching Grease.”
“We knew every line by heart.” Juliet agrees, laughing.
Her eyes catch mine, and for a moment, we’re right back there, snuggled together under a blanket. Then her smile slips.
I try to catch my breath. Maybe I’m just overreacting, reading too much into a simple song. After all, Carina’s never said this was serious to her. We’ve never once talked about the future.
But you thought about it, the nights she fell asleep curled in your arms…
I let out a roar of frustration that’s swallowed up by the sound of the waves. I can make all the excuses I want, but I can’t hide from the truth any more.
There’s no misreading the look in her eyes as she sang to me.
There’s no running from the way I felt, watching her onstage.
This is different from anything I’ve ever felt before—more powerful, more wild, more consuming. And if I feel this way wanting her…
Imagine how you’ll feel when she leaves.
My heart clenches in my chest. I think of the future I want with Carina, the life we could build together. The family. A lifetime of waking up to her in the morning, and holding her in my arms at night. A home, children, everything my aching, broken heart has yearned for all these years.
And I know there’s only one thing I have to do.
24
I don’t see Garrett anywhere at the bar during my break, but I don’t have time to think about it, not with people crowding around paying compliments and telling me how much they loved my set. I can’t believe it, I’m still in shock, but after the fifth person smiles and says I did a great job, it finally starts sinking in that I didn’t make a total fool of myself up there.
“Are you playing anywhere else?” a college girl asks hopefully, clustered with her gaggle of friends.
“I don’t know,” I answer, flushed and breathless. “Maybe here, next month again? Would you come?”
“Definitely!” they chorus.
The crush of people around me is suddenly overwhelming. I make my apologies. “I’ll be right back,” I say, retreating to the doorway leading back to the offices. It’s quieter here, and I have room to breathe, adrenaline still thundering like stallions in my bloodstream.
I did it. After everything, all my fears and insecurities, I actually got up there and sang.
And I didn’t suck!
“Looks like you’re a hit,” Brit’s voice comes from behind me. I spin around so fast, I nearly spill my glass of water. She’s emerging from the back room and, to my surprise, the look on her face isn’t her usual scowl—it’s almost begrudging respect.
“Thanks,” I say, cautious. “I was a mess to begin with, I know.”
“But you came through for him.” Brit gives me a perceptive stare. “He must really mean a lot to you.”
I slowly nod. “He does.”
“OK,” she says, like something’s been decided.
“OK?” I blink, not following.
“You can do…whatever it is you guys are doing. I won’t stand in your way.”
“Oh.” I still don’t get it, so I just give her a shrug. “Umm, thanks?”
“But if you hurt him, I will f**king break you in two,” Brit adds casually. “Good luck with the next set!”
She disappears into the crowd, leaving my head spinning. That was…interesting. I guess in her own weird way, she was giving us permission.
Permission for what?
Then it all comes rushing back, how I just sang my heart and soul out—right to Garrett, in front of everyone.
My cheeks burn. Oh God, I can’t believe I did that, but something took me over up there on stage. For one sweet, reckless moment I felt free. Free enough to tell Garrett how I felt about him, the only way I knew how.
In that moment, it was all for him.
I look again in the crowd, but I can’t see him. It’s no wonder—the line for drinks at the bar is three people deep, and there’s standing room only in the bar. I feel a surge of pride. We did it: found a way to revitalize Jimmy’s, and this is only the opening night!
“Hey.” The voice is quiet, almost lost under the chatter of the crowd, but when I turn, Juliet is standing a few feet away from me. She hugs her arms around herself, the way she always does when she’s feeling awkward or nervous.
My heart skips. “Hey,” I answer slowly. I remember the last time I saw her, how devastated and furious she was with me. She swore it was too late for us. There was no mending the damage I’d done.
I feel a knot tangle in my stomach. “I didn’t know you were coming,” I say, looking away.
“Emerson said we should support Garrett,” Juliet replies. “He’s off…somewhere.”
I take a breath. “Did you see…?”
“You sing? Yes.” Juliet shifts her weight. “I didn’t know you did that anymore. Not since we were kids.”
I shrug, awkward. “I don’t. Not really. But the guy we got to play backed out at the last minute, and there wasn’t anyone else to take his place.”
“But you hate getting up in front of everyone.” Juliet’s forehead crinkles in a frown. “Remember when you got cast in the grade school nativity? You faked flu for a week just to get out of it.”
“And then you started pretending, too, like you’d caught it off me?” I remember with a grin. “We got to spend all day in front of the TV watching Grease.”
“We knew every line by heart.” Juliet agrees, laughing.
Her eyes catch mine, and for a moment, we’re right back there, snuggled together under a blanket. Then her smile slips.
