I can’t resist tracing the letters on his Ramones T-shirt when I tell him, “Way to get a girl all hot and bothered and leave her hanging.”
“Dahlia! There you are,” Bell shouts from behind me.
When I turn in her direction I notice she’s wearing the birthday present I gave her, a Love Quotes scarf. It complements her black jeans and white-lace top perfectly. I smile and tug on the scarf, “Hi, Bell. How was your date?”
“Amazing. It’s work that’s killing me. Xander has me jumping hoops for this tour now that he knows I have another job. With both jobs, I feel like I don’t have enough time for a boyfriend right now.”
“If you really like him, tell him that. I’m sure he’ll understand.”
River pulls me back against him and Bell appears to suddenly realize it’s her brother behind me. “Nice cover-up you and Xander pulled on Mom about the eye, but she saw right through it, you know.”
Xander approaches us, motioning for River to follow him.
“I better see what he wants,” he says to both of us and kisses me before walking off. I watch what looks to be a heated conversation. Bell notices, too, and bites her bottom lip before saying, “What’s going on with those two?”
“I think River is just stressed over the tour.”
“I guess.”
Xander leaves River standing there. River once again looks stressed as he runs his hands through his hair and follows Xander to the table full of young guys all staring at Ellie, who has once again removed her jacket.
“Have you met Ellie?” Bell asks me.
“Yeah, I have. She seems . . . competent.”
“Yeah, competent is one way to describe her.”
I look at her and laugh as she squeezes her way to the bar. She orders us two shots. Handing one over to me she says, “To women who think they’re all that, may their boobs drop at a young age.”
I laugh so hard I can barely down my shot. She orders another and this time I make the toast: “To women who see through the women who think they’re all that.”
Bell sucks in a breath to control her laughter and drinks her shot then asks, “You’re not worried about her, are you?”
“No.”
“Well good, because you have no reason to be. My brother loves you.”
I smile at her. “I know.”
“Speaking of my brother, what are you doing for his birthday?”
I look at her blankly. “Shit Bell, it’s this Saturday, isn’t it? I have no idea. With everything . . .” I’m not sure if she knows about Ben yet, even though everyone seems to know everything before I do. “I’ve been so busy I haven’t even thought about it.”
“Lucky for you I’m an awesome party planner.”
“I don’t know about a party, though. There’s so much going on with the tour right now . . .”
“Nonsense, that’s the perfect reason to have a blowout party—to celebrate River’s birthday and the band’s departure. Let’s make it a surprise.”
I look at her questioningly.
“Dahlia, I’ll take care of everything. You just get him out of the house for a few hours Saturday. Take him to dinner or something for his birthday.”
As my eyes roam the bar, they fall on River’s table, where Ellie is leaning over him, handing him a shot. Her chest is on full display and I roll my eyes. “Okay Bell. If you’re sure. Come on, my turn to buy a round.”
Three shots and two beers later, I am feeling no pain. Bell has changed topics so many times I’m having a hard time keeping up. She went from talking about birth control and how she can never remember to take the pill at the same time every day to her recent shopping spree at Avery’s, and now she’s telling me her plans for the party. I’m trying to stay focused, listening and nodding, but my mind keeps going back to Grace. I can’t stop thinking about how we left things.
But the sound of a familiar voice brings me to full attention. My eyes dart to the stage and I see him up there looking at ease, relaxed, like the stage is his second home.
“Hello everyone,” his deep voice welcomes the crowd. When I see him up there like that I can’t believe he’s mine. He stands with a power that commands attention. His toned muscles flex under his T-shirt with every twist and turn he makes as he adjusts the microphone height with his guitar slung around him, hugging his back.
For some reason every time I see him like that onstage it steals my breath away. His smile is wide, his dimples always on full display, his eyes bright. He’s so steady and sure and his passion for singing couldn’t be clearer. When he’s up there I know it’s where he’s meant to be. For a moment I wish it could always stay this simple for him—just write songs and bring them to life, no talk of touring and moving up to a grander scale. But the band is on the rise and he deserves the fame and all that goes with it. I just hope he learns to be happy with it.
“I’m going to sing a few songs tonight that I wrote for my girl,” he says, his eyes shining on me. The way he looks at me sends prickles along my skin. He pulls his guitar around him. “One, two, one, two, three, four,” he mouths before the opening music surges throughout the room.
You were my once in a lifetime.
This I knew from the moment your eyes met mine.
You were my once in a lifetime.
This I knew the first time I whispered into your ear and my heart stopped.
You were my once in a lifetime.
This I knew when your face touched my spirit.
You were my once in a lifetime.
This I knew when I kissed your lips and felt it in my soul.
So where did you go, where did you go?
My concerns about Grace flee for the moment in my excitement at watching him perform. Hearing him sing about us, his feelings for me, brings such peace. His evocative voice captures the audience’s attention. Couples start dancing, people begin to sway, and everyone is singing along. But he’s singing it to me as if we were alone, and that thrills me. He stops playing the guitar and lets it drop. Grabbing the mic with both hands his eyes close. With his legs shoulder-width apart he taps his thigh to the beat. He owns the music—of that there is no doubt. As the song ends he sways back and forth, playing a last few notes on his guitar and ending with an ever-so-slight bow.
The band moves right into the next song but this time he takes a seat on a barstool. His black boots find their place on the rung and he rests his guitar on his thigh. He beams before he breaks into song, strumming the beautiful melody of “Five.” Again I’m completely mesmerized. When he begins to sing, his focus slips further into the music as if he’s the song. During the chorus some of the girls start screaming and standing, he gifts them with his sexy grin. Wild thoughts of us in bed together flood my mind and I feel myself flush as I stand there, watching him, wanting him. He drops his guitar again and raises both hands in the air. His shirt lifts and the glistening skin of his lower abdomen is bared for all to see. “Come on, everyone, sing along,” he coos into the mic, and, of course, we all do.
5 years, 260 weeks, 1,825 days, 2.3 million minutes.
That was how long ago I met you.
If I did it all again. Would you come along for the ride?
If I did it all again. Could you play this game with me?
I’m not sure I’ve ever seen anything sexier than his bright smile backlit by the golden lights of the stage. Here, in this small familiar venue, River is in his element. When the last notes fade, the audience bursts into applause and the sound dances through me. “That’s all for tonight. Till next time,” he says as he lifts his guitar strap over his shoulder. He waves to the audience while they clap and yell for more. Some girls are even calling out their phone numbers while others make suggestive comments, but he doesn’t seem to notice. The Wilde Ones talk for a few minutes and then each guy leaves the stage going their own ways.
I lose sight of him in the crowd and turn back toward Bell, who is also grinning from ear to ear. Then I sense his presence behind me before I see him. “Hey, beautiful.” His warm breath travels down my neck and sends a shiver through my eager body. I lean into him and he wraps an arm around me.
Bell puts a finger over her lips and winks at me. “See you two later. I have to find Reston before he hits the stage.”
“Reston? Who’s Reston?” River asks then kisses my neck.
“Don’t you ever pay attention? He’s my boyfriend, the drummer for Scandalicious.” When he looks at her quizzically she says, “Duh. They’re the band onstage.”
He lifts his eyes to check it out but keeps his lips on me. “Sorry Bell, I just can’t keep up with all your boyfriends, but the band is rocking it.”
“I really like this one,” she says as she flutters toward the stage.
“Good luck,” I call to her but I’ve already turned so I can really kiss him.
“You were amazing up there,” I tell him, raking my fingers through his hair and holding on.
Leaning back he takes in every inch of me. Then he’s got me flush against his body, desire consuming my every thought. His eyes are hooded and I can see a reflection of my desire in his gaze—the passion between us is about ready to erupt. “Amazing, yeah,” he responds, but his breath catches on the words.
Skimming my hands down his chest, I circle his waist and tuck my hands inside his jeans. Pulling him closer, I softly brush my lips against his neck and his body quivers from our slight skin-on-skin contact.
His hands glide up my back as he closes the small distance I left between us. When he slips his tongue into my mouth, I gasp. But when he bites down on my bottom lip and sucks on it, I can’t help but whimper.
I pull away before things escalate any further. “Take me home and finish what you started before we left.”
He looks around and then over at the table where Ellie, Xander, and the other band members are all sitting, still doing shots and engaging in animated conversation.
“I can call us a cab.”
My body is way too impatient to wait for a ride and I let him know it when I rock against him and say, “I want you now, not in an hour.”
He steps back and surveys his options. Watching him, I lick my lips and run my hands down my body. “Fuck,” he groans, hissing through his teeth. When he drags his tongue across his lip, he looks so freaking sexy I know I’d let him f**k me in the bathroom.
He motions to the left, ushering me into the crowd and I hope no one is watching us. As we’re making our way through it, he wraps his arm around my waist and pulls me into him. Pointing to where he wants me to head, he leans in and whispers, “I’m so hard right now.”
My brain is a bit hazy from the drinks I’ve had tonight but it’s not in the least bit clouded when it comes to this—I know what I want. And I know he wants the same. At the covered archway with the sign POOLROOM above it, he looks around then lifts the sheet of plastic and motions to me to slip under it. He quickly follows.
Once we’re on the other side he takes my hand and leads me down the hallway. It’s pitch-black and he has to hold his phone up to guide the way. Once we enter the room, I look around, but the only thing in here is the pool table covered by a white sheet. He sets his phone on it, and quickly hoists me up onto the table.
“You sure about this?” he asks with his heavily lidded eyes studying me.
Pulling in a shaky breath at the smoldering look in his eyes, I lean in to kiss the corner of his mouth and purr, “Absolutely.”
With a soft groan he slides between my legs and the feel of him pressed against me makes me tremble. My breath hitches and my pulse quickens. Cupping my face in one hand, he traces the seam of my lips with the other. Not wanting to wait another minute, I wrap my hands around his neck and our lips move against each other with fervent need, and a soft moan escapes my throat. I can hear the band playing “Feel This Moment” and I lose myself in the music.