Combust (The Wellingtons #1) (47 page)

A gasp escapes my lips, realization spreading through me. My eyes race to meet his, and he nods slightly, letting me know that my assumption is right. Cohen set this up. I look around, suddenly aware that the booth is empty. I don’t see Teddy, Reese, Cy, or Sophie anywhere, and I don’t see Cohen either. I’m about to rise from the booth, but as soon as the chords start, I recognize the song and forget what I’m doing.

I look back at the stage, swallowing hard and shaking my head, knowing that this wouldn’t be the song he’d choose. He doesn’t even like the band. Chris has moved to the piano, and surprise rolls through me like a shockwave as he proves me wrong and starts to sing Sad Song by We the Kings.

My eyes are transfixed on the stage, and as he continues to sing, it’s as if there’s no one in the bar but him and me. Except, instead of Chris, my vision is cloudy by my tears and I can picture Cohen’s face, imagining those words coming from his lips. Hope rises within me, and when Chris sings the final line, I almost become undone.

Without you, I’m just a sad song.

Jumping out of the booth, I’m determined to find him, but I run smack-dab into a solid chest. Whispering an apology, I try to push past him, but he places two hands on my shoulders. Looking up, I wipe my eyes and shake my head in confusion when I see Branson standing in front of me.

“If you don’t mind, I’m kinda busy,” I tell him, sniffing and wiping away the tears that won’t stop falling.

He grins down at me, and I start to ugly cry because it’s so much like Cohen’s and I miss him. Two days apart has been two too many, and I can’t believe he would think that I’d want to go to New York. I’d only be more miserable than I am now.

“Far be it from me to stop a woman on a mission. He loves you, you know,” he tells me.

I start to walk away but then stop in my tracks. When I turn back towards him, I can see that he’s still looking at me. I walk back to him and lean up on my tiptoes, giving him a kiss on the cheek.

“I love him, too. You know, you’re not such a bad guy, Branson.”

Smiling down at me, he swipes a tear away from my cheek. “You’re the second pretty girl to tell me that in the last twenty-four hours. I just might start believing it. Now go,” he says, gripping my shoulders and turning me around before giving me a little push towards the door.

My eyes are searching the bar, and they widen as I get closer to the bar area. Knox and Charlie are leaned up against the bar, and I burst into tears again when Charlie puts her arms around me.

“It’s a family affair in here,” I tell her, laughing and crying at the same time.

She rubs my back then pulls back and smiles at me. “It’s something in their genes,” she jokes.

Knox protests then leans down. “I told you I taught him everything he knows,” he whispers, a devilish grin on his face.

After shoving his shoulders, I glance around, my heart falling when I still don’t see him. Knox must see me, because just like his older brother, he steadies my shoulders and points me in the direction of the door.

“He’s waiting,” he tells me.

Without a second thought, I make my way to the door. Taking one last deep breath, I push it open and step out into the warm night.

 

 

 

I FEEL like I’ve been pacing back and forth in this damn parking lot for hours. Chris didn’t plan to do the song until the second set, something we both agreed on. I knew that, if he started out with sappy romantic music, it’d affect Andi, and I’m not sure what her state of mind is. Reese texted me that she got her to come out, but the rest of it’s up to me.

When I talked to Charlie about my plan last night, she first slapped me on the forehead for being such a bonehead—her words—and then marched up to Chris and brought him to me so we could set the whole thing in motion. Chris asked what song I wanted to use, and it was a no-brainer. I never told Andi this, but after the concert, I made sure to add the song to my playlist, because as I listened to the lyrics that night, I knew it’s how I’d feel if I ever lost her from my life. I just didn’t realize that I’d be applying the song to my life two months later.

As I hear the song start, I lean back against the brick wall and close my eyes, praying that this works. That I’m not too late. That I didn’t royally fuck everything up and push her away. After what feels like forever, I hear the final line of the song, and my hearts begin to race as I wonder what is running through Andi’s mind.

Time seems to tick away as I wait for the door to open. Staring at it, I will it to move, but it never does. Running my hands through my hair, I take in a deep breath, close my eyes, and begin counting to one hundred. I’m almost to sixty-seven when I hear the door creaking. Before I can open my eyes, the scent of her perfume fills the air, and I take in a deep breath, savoring this moment. Swallowing hard, I push off the wall and open my eyes.

The most breathtaking woman is standing in front of me, illuminated by the moonlight. She looks at me for a split second then looks down at the ground. Closing the distance between us, I cross to her until I’m standing directly in front of her. I use my thumb and forefinger to lift her chin until she’s looking at me. Her eyes are shimmering, her cheeks stained with tears. My heart plummets, knowing that I caused her to cry.

“Ruby,” I whisper, my thumb brushing over her lower lip.

Her breath hitches as her eyes search mine. She brings her hand up to my wrist, and electricity flows through me at the contact. “Stop time in the moonlight?” Her soft whisper of one of the lyrics sends pinpricks to my heart.

“Don’t ever close my eyes,” I whisper back, and she doesn’t answer. Her eyes dance back and forth between mine, looking both questioning and hopeful at the same time.

“I missed you,” she breathes out, and I shake my head because I know I don’t deserve it.

Bringing my hands up, I cup her face. “I fucked up, baby, and I’m sorry.”

She starts to protest, and I cover her mouth with mine to shut her up. The feel of her lips on my mind causes euphoria to spread throughout my body, and I have to fight my urge to deepen the kiss, to show her how much I’ve missed her, too.

Instead, I pull back and meet her eyes. “Hear me out, okay?”

“Okay,” she says in a soft whisper.

With a deep breath, I continue. “I could never form the right words myself to properly tell you how much I love you. How much I need you. How deeply ingrained in my soul you’ve become. You’re in every song, every note, and I only wish I had the ability to write the lyrics to your song. As a chemist, my writing skills pretty much suck ass, but my ears are always open. That song says everything that’s been in my heart since you walked out the door, and it’s the perfect expression of how I feel. It’s true, Ruby. Without you, I’m a sad song. I’m the broken half of a whole. I’m nothing without you. From the moment I saw you, all fiery red hair, looking absolutely adorable in an Elton tee, I knew you were it for me. There’s been no one but you, and there never will be. If I lose you now, this will be the only song that beats in my heart for the rest of my life.”

Tears are streaming down her face as she stares into my eyes, taking in everything I’ve just said. “Cohen, that song makes it sound like you’re living without me. Like it’s past love. That’s not us,” she whispers, her voice sounding small.

My thumbs brush her cheeks, trying to capture each new tear as they fall. “That’s the beauty of music, Ruby. We have the power to change the song. I don’t have to be a sad song. I don’t want to be. I’m man enough to get on my knees and grovel until you forgive me, because I’ll never be able to let go of you, of what we have. Without you, there’s no music in my life. Please don’t make me live a life in silence.”

As Andi stares at me, nervousness begins to pulsate underneath my skin. I’m waiting for her to respond, to give me something, anything, but her expression is completely stoic, no emotion showing except for the tears that continue to fall down her face. Just as I’m about to pull away, her lips start to twitch and a slow smile spreads over her face. It’s the most beautiful sight I’ve ever seen, and my heart squeezes at the implication.

“Are you sure you couldn’t be a songwriter? Because everything you just said? It was pretty poetic.”

I match her grin and let out a deep breath. “Maybe in another life.” Pressing my forehead to hers, I swallow. “I’m sorry for pushing you away. Forgive me?”

“That depends,” she responds, and I still. “Will you please trust my judgment from now on? Cohen, I never wanted to go to New York.”

I begin to protest, but she places a finger over my lips, shutting me up. She then grabs my hand and leads me across the parking lot to a nearby bench, and we sit down.

Turning towards me, she continues. “Not only that, but I never told Teddy about getting that letter. He heard about it from Riley.”

Immediately I feel like an ass for jumping to conclusions, and I groan as I run my fingers through my hair. “I’m such a jerk,” I mutter, and she laughs as she swats my arm.

“Let me finish! If we’re moving on from this—which we are—we need to clear the air. I know you overheard Dad and me the night of graduation. Apparently, he told Riley, who told Teddy, who finally told me the other night after we had our fight. I’d been planning to tell you I was coming to Memphis after graduation, but my dad promised me that, if I kept my options open for a few more weeks, he’d respect my final decision. I knew we had all summer to discuss it, so I agreed with him because I knew I wasn’t going to change my mind. Sure, New York sounds glamorous, but I’d be a glorified gopher. I’d rather work for a small-time magazine and build my portfolio than spend years fetching coffee and delivering mail. The opportunity I have in Memphis is amazing. And it’s an added bonus that I’m going to be there with you. Yes, Cohen, you were a factor in my decision. That’s what you do when you love someone. You bring them into the equation when you’re making plans for the future. I love you, and I want to be with you. We’re moving on to the next stage in our lives, and it’s exciting. I’m starting my career and you’re going to medical school. And we’re so lucky that we get to do it together.”

“I never should’ve questioned you,” I admit, and she gives me a soft smile.

“No, you shouldn’t have. But I’m at fault here, too, Cohen. I should’ve been up-front with you about. I should’ve told my dad to shove it, but I didn’t, and I left you hanging. That wasn’t fair to you,” she responds.

I have to shake my head. This girl. Leave it to her to take some of the blame when I fucked up.

Taking hold of her hand, I link our fingers and bring them to my lap. “So Memphis it is?” I ask, trying not to sound too hopeful but completely failing.

She laughs, and it’s the sweetest sound I’ve ever heard. “Yeah, Cohen. Memphis it is,” she responds before crawling into my lap and hooking her arms around my neck. “And just so we’re clear, Memphis means moving in together. No more of this back-and-forth between two places. After all, according to Dad, you’re going to need someone to cook and clean for you,” she says playfully.

“Baby, I can cook and I can clean. But seeing as how I helped you pass chemistry, I figure it’s your turn to help me out.” Her eyebrows rise, and I grin up at her. “I’m going to need a live-in practice patient, and as far as I can tell, there are going to be many, many physical and oral exams. After all, I am going to be a doctor, and practice makes perfect.”

“I’m pretty sure I once told you I’m a tit-for-tat kind of girl, so you have yourself a deal. Now kiss me, Cohen. It’s been far too long,” she breathes, and I waste no time in responding her to her request.

Her lips perfectly mold to mine, and I close my eyes, savoring the taste of her, the smell of her, the feel of her. As she straddles my lap, she pulls back, and I let out a less than masculine whimper and lean forward to keep my lips connected to hers. She laughs and pushes against my chest before looking down at me.

“Feels like someone’s been missing me,” she teases as she rocks against my jeans.

Shit, I almost forgot.

Twisting until she slides off my lap and onto the bench, I kneel before her. Her eyes widen as I pull a small box out of my pocket, her hand coming up to cover her mouth. A small squeak escapes her lips as her eyes dart back and forth between the box and me, and I have to stifle a laugh.

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