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I pick up my guitar case and tilt my head towards the stage, silently asking if that's where he wants me to play. “Yeah, just head on up. Show us what you got.” He says, wrapping his arm around Becca's shoulder.

“Good luck.” She says sweetly, snuggling into Jake's arm. Those two are almost sickening but I can't help but be somewhat envious. I can't remember what it feels like to look at someone the way Becca looks at Jake. The way I used to look at Kyle.

I try to shake off the small bundle of nerves creeping into the pit of my stomach. There's no reason to be nervous. Not really. Considering that I am auditioning in front of a whopping six people.

I climb up the two wooden stairs that lead up to the stage. Figuring I don't need the microphone or amplifier because the bar is so quiet, I don't bother hooking up the wires laid out on the stage. Instead, I take a seat on the stool sitting in the center of the stage and prop my guitar in my lap.

When I look up, Becca and Jake are sitting at one of the tables directly behind the small makeshift dance floor. Both smiling encouragingly at me. I nod in their direction and then turn my focus back to the instrument in my hands. After tuning a couple strings, I begin strumming the intro to “To Whom it May Concern” by The Civil Wars. Traditionally it's a duet but because the parts don't overlap, I am able to do it as a solo act.

Within seconds of hearing the notes float through the room, the very few people watching fade into the background until all that is left is just me. Me and my guitar and the feelings that spread through me when I play.

The song is about waiting to find that one true love. The way that person will feel, look, smell, and taste. It's all about waiting and because of this, I connect to the song on a very deep level. Not that I necessarily connected to the actual meaning of waiting for that one love but more just the waiting. Waiting for someone, something, to come along and make me feel alive again.

As I strum out the last chord, the room finally comes back into focus and my eyes fall to Jake, who is still sitting in the same chair, a dimpled filled, excited smile across his face. Becca is standing, clapping like her life depends on it before she comes skipping over to the edge of the stage.

“Oh my god Grace! You are AMAZING!” She squeals. “Jake! Wasn't she amazing?” She says, turning to address her boyfriend as he makes his way to join her in front of the stage.

“Magic Grace. Pure magic. You have to play here. Please tell me you will take the job. Even if I audition for another six months, I will never find someone as good as you to play in a place like this.” He says, clasping his hands together in a silent plea.

“I'll take it.” I say, without a moment of hesitation. Becca does a happy squeal and wraps Jake in a huge hug.

“Come to the bar, we will discuss all the details over a celebratory drink.” He says, wrapping his arm around Becca's shoulder and ushering her towards the bar. After packing up my guitar, I make my way to the bar. Jake is standing behind it and already has three shot glasses filled with a clear liquid sitting in front him. I take a seat on one of the stools next to Becca and prop my guitar next to me.

“Okay. So here's the deal. Sunday through Wednesday. You will play roughly three hours between ten p.m. and two a.m. It's a hundred bucks a night and all your drinks are free. Well as long as you don't get so drunk that you can't play, that's where I draw the line.” He smiles, clearly joking with me. Obviously I am not the typical drinking, party girl or at least I don't think people would see me that way.

“When do I start?” I ask, an excited smile permanently attached to my face. Jake returns my smile full force before handing me one of the shots. He then hands Becca one and takes the last one for himself.

“You'll start Tuesday. That way you have a couple of days to put together a playlist.” He says, raising his shot glass. “To Grace. Welcome to
Vitos
.” He says, pouring the contents of the glass down his throat. I follow suit and am rather surprised that the alcohol does not have as bad of a bite as I expected.

“Top shelf Tequila. Goes down like water.” Jake says, catching the surprised expression on my face.

I spend the next three hours at the bar chatting with Becca. I may have only just met her but I know for one hundred percent certainty that we are going to be very good friends. For one, she loves Blue October just as much as I do. That scores people major brownie points with me. Two, she's the only other person I have ever met that thinks
Master of Disguise
is one of the funniest movies of all time. And last but not least, she is also a writer. Well, she writes songs.

Apparently she's very talented on the Piano and we immediately make plans to do some type of guitar/piano duet together in the near future. Obviously there is no room for a piano on the tiny stage but a keyboard would fit nicely and for all intensive purposes is kind of the same thing. Okay not really but she can do the same thing on a keyboard as she can a piano.

I finally stumble out of the bar a little after four in the afternoon, having drank at least five more shots and a couple of mixed drinks that Jake calls 'The Sunday Special'. The sun instantly attacks my sensitive eyes, having been in such a dim room for so long. Wishing I had brought my sunglasses, I use my hand to block out the sun while I stumble my way down the sidewalk towards my apartment building.

I didn't realize how much of a buzz I had until now. The sidewalk seems to keep moving off to the side even though I swear I am walking a straight line. I can't help but laugh at myself. How ridiculous am I? Stumbling through the city in the middle of a Sunday afternoon, completely smashed. Very classy Grace.

“My oh my if it's not the girl of my dreams.” I hear Carver drawl in his best country accent, pulling my attention to the curb directly in front of our building. Pulling a couple of shopping bags out of the back of a cab, he sits them on the ground and after throwing some cash at the cabbie, he makes his way towards me, a wide smile on his face.

He drops the bags next to me and then immediately hoists me into his arms. “Oh Grace. Grace, Grace, Grace. Where have you been all my life?” He croons out, spinning me a couple of times in a circle. I can't contain the laughter that bursts from my mouth.

“Sorry Grace, I've always wanted to do that.” He says, landing a swift kiss to my cheek before setting me back to my feet.

You would think by now that I would have gotten used to all the theatrics and public embarrassment that comes along with having friends like Carver and Emma but I haven't. Even through my alcohol induced haze, I can still feel my cheeks flush crimson as passing pedestrians huff around us, some even throwing dirty looks over their shoulders.

“What? A girl not allowed to literally be swept off her feet?” I blurt out at a trampy looking woman who gives me a death glare as she steps around me and Carver, still taking up a good portion of the sidewalk.

Carver's eyes widen in surprise and then a knowing smile creeps across his handsome face. “Gracie Morgan.” He says, putting his hands on his hips for effect. “Have you been drinking on a Sunday afternoon?” He asks, laughter vibrating through his chest.

“Oh shut up Carv.” I say, giving his chest a friendly shove. He grabs my arm and pulls me to him.

“Everything okay Grace?” He asks, clearly worried that I have lost my mind or have officially jumped off some emotionally stable wagon and am sure to go into hysterics at any moment.

I snuggle into his embrace, laughter vibrating lightly through me. “I'm good.” I say, pulling my head back to stare up at him. “I got a job!” I say, smiling wider.

“Holy shit Grace, that's awesome. Where?” He asks, still not dropping his hold on me.

I shake my head slightly. “It's a secret.” I say, winking. Figuring he will eventually get it out of me, he doesn't push for more. Instead, he lands a light kiss to my forehead. Only then does it dawn on me how much Carver and I seem like a real life couple. His fingers entwine with mine as he pulls me towards the entrance of our building.

The contact between us is constant and it has always been that way with me and Carver. I have always held his hand and snuggled with him on the couch. I have always laid my head on his shoulder at the movie theater and fell asleep in his lap in the car after having too much to drink.

I peer up at his handsome face and give him a sweet smile. It doesn't matter what other people think. He is my best friend and we love each other, just not in that way.

I'm still staring up at him with a completely goofy grin on my face as we approach the front door of our building, when his movements suddenly stop out of nowhere, stopping me along with him. I follow his line of sight and then gasp at the person sitting on the front steps of my apartment building glaring at Carver like he's ready to make him disappear, like forever.

“Zayne..... What....what are you doing here?”

––––––––

“W
hat are you doing here?” I ask again, fearing that maybe my words were too slurred together for him to hear me right the first time.

His eyes finally break away from Carver's face and meet mine for the first time. He stands, his usual air of confidence surrounding him. “I came to see how the new guitar is working out.” He says casually, gesturing to the case in my hand.

“It's good, great actually.” I say, nervousness lacing my voice. Having never prepared myself for the day that Zayne Evans would just show up on my door step, it takes me a few seconds to gather my barrings.

“Um Carver this is Zayne, Alec's best friend. Zayne this is Carver.” I say, feeling oddly out of place giving the introduction. Considering the fact that he's sitting on my door step in the middle of the afternoon, I assume he doesn't mind me giving Carver his name. The two men nod at one another and Carver reaches out, giving Zayne's hand a firm shake before turning his attention back to me.

“Would you mind running this up for me?” I ask, handing him my guitar case. He takes it without hesitation. “I'll be up in a minute.” I say, giving him a smile that lets him know he has nothing to worry about. “And can you not mention this to Emma, please.” I whisper giving him a swift kiss on the cheek. I know he picks up on why I'm asking, he really does know me that well. Emma has a tendency to blow things up and I really don't feel like dealing with the questions right now.  He gives me a quick nod before passing Zayne and pushing his way through the front door.

“So did you really come here to see about the guitar?” I ask, not trying to hide the questioning tone of my voice. He shuffles his feet for a moment and then his eyes find mine again. “You know it's okay if you just really missed me and wanted to see me.” I say, laughing lightly. “I certainly wouldn't hold it against you. I, Mr. Evans, am a girl worth missing.” I say jokingly, tossing my hair over my shoulder.

“Have you been drinking?” He asks, making his way towards me and joining me at the bottom of the stairs. I peer up at his impossibly handsome face and have to resist the urge to push a lock of hair away from his forehead.

“Celebrating.” I say on shrug. “I have officially entered the land of the employed.”

“Well Congratulations.” He says, his smile revealing a mouth full of perfectly straight and impossibly white teeth.

“Thank you.” I say, shifting my weight from leg to leg. While a small portion of the alcohol has worn off, the majority of it is still in effect and I feel my body swaying in the light summer breeze.

A strand of my hair blows across my face and he reaches out to tuck it behind my ear. For whatever reason, the action seems more intimate than it should and my heart rate kicks into overdrive.

“Let me take you to dinner.” He says, more a command than a question. I look down at my torn jeans and black tank top.

“Um, I'm not really dressed to go out.” I say, now knowing the kind of places that him and Alec go to.

“You're perfect.” He says, his smile slipping back into place. “Besides, I'll keep it casual, I promise. There's a great little pizza place just around the corner. What do you say?”

“Okay.” My voice gets caught in my throat a little and the word comes out dry and forced. He smiles again and then steps off the last step, holding his arm out to me. I hesitantly slip my arm through his and let him lead me down the sidewalk.

“And you were right.” He adds. “I did miss you.” His confession causes butterflies to erupt in my stomach and even with the liquid courage flowing through me, I find myself scrambling for something that doesn't make me sound too desperate to say.

Since my mind can come up with nothing at the present moment, I keep my mouth shut and my eyes forward. “So who was that guy back at your apartment?” He asks, not disguising the hint of disgust in his voice. If I didn't know any better, I would say that he's jealous but then again, what would a man like Zayne Evans ever have to be jealous about?

“Carver.” I say on a shrug. “He's one of my best friends and he also happens to be my roommate.” I say, not missing the way Zayne's features tighten at my words. I can tell he wants to say more but instead he remains silent for the remainder of the walk.

When we arrive at the restaurant, I am more than a little surprised by the run down family owned pizza place in front of me. Zayne doesn't comment on my shocked expression and gently guides me through the door, his hand once again falling to the small of my back. I can't contain the shiver that runs through me with his fingers resting so closely to the top of my ass.

Ferro's Pizza
leaves a lot to be desired but it has a very laid back feel and is comfortable, nothing like the stuffy restaurant I went to with Alec and Zayne. A few run down booths line the walls, some chipped, old tables scattered through out the middle, and a small counter lines the front. “What's your favorite?” Zayne asks, turning to face me.

It takes me a moment to realize he's asking me what kind of pizza I like and I quickly mumble out a response. “Whatever is fine but I prefer veggie.” I say on a shrug.