Maybe (26 page)

Read Maybe Online

Authors: Amber L. Johnson

The grounds are decorated with white tents and mason jars with candles—small ones hang from the trees, and big ones sit in the middle of tables. Everyone’s faces are lit by candlelight while they sit around tables and drink beer. Hollis is carrying around a bottle of Perrier. There’s music and friends, and her family sits huddled up at a table along with Jon’s. They’re the loudest, happiest bunch of them all.

“You missed the big announcement.”

His voice has always made my body react, but right now, with his lips so close to my ear, my body flushes hot. When his fingers slip across my stomach and he wraps his arm around my middle to pull my back against him, I’m exactly where I’m supposed to be.

“I had some stuff to do before I could get here.”

“It better have been worth the three hours I could have been doing this.” His lips ghost across my neck and collar, coming to rest on my shoulder.

“It’s worth it, I promise.”

He walks me to our table, and I’m happy to see Cam across from me. And Shawn, bright-eyed and coherent. He’s the Shawn I first met. He’s happy, funny, and level-headed. And still on the prowl.

“Is her cousin legal? I just need to know. Nod once if yes.”

Jon’s lips are pressed together in real disapproval. He takes a swig from his beer bottle and shifts forward to place it on the table and glare. “She’s fifteen.”

“Really? Damn, girls look older and older all the time.” Shawn scoots his chair back and gets up to grab another beer.

Cam has an eyebrow raised and a green bottle to his lips. “Fifteen?”

Jon scratches at the Heineken label and finally lets out the laugh he was trying to keep in. “She’s twenty, but Shawn’s not going anywhere near her. And if you tell him, I’ll hog-tie you to that tree right over there.”

Cam looks thoughtful and shrugs. “I won’t tell him.”

The flaw in Jon’s threat is that he never said Cam couldn’t go after her. The realization on his face when the guitarist stands up and walks her way is enough to make me fold over in laughter.

Jon is on his feet within seconds, trying to intercept. It makes me think about people who aren’t supposed to be together and how there are other forces at work. If they’re supposed to meet, they will. Jon and Hollis can’t stop it.

They never could.

I see Tyler peering at me from the corner of my eye. “What?” I ask innocently.

“You look lost in thought. Just curious what has you thinking so hard.”

I lean in and whisper, “Can we take a walk? I’d like some time to talk with you.”

He looks concerned, but excuses us before he pulls my chair out and grabs one of the lanterns hanging outside the tent for us to carry across the field. We walk slowly, and I enjoy the gusts of wind that spring brings. The air is crisp and clean, and the sky looks endless and full of the brightest stars I have ever seen.

“Come on,” he prods me. He points to two barns. “This one has horses. The other one has the tractors and stuff. Have you ever been in a hayloft, Peach?”

“Can’t say that I have.” Sometimes he has this twang to his accent that kills me. Right now, I’m the walking dead.

The smell of old wood and hay assault my senses, and I’m not sure why, but I don’t hate it. I’ve always loved the smell of the city and have always been enamored with the frenzy of life around me. But right now the air is still, and I’m calm.

He leads us to the bottom of a ladder and steps up on the first rung, swinging out a bit to appraise me. “What do you want to talk about?”

“I’ve been trying to figure out how to tell you this, but I needed to get some things in order first.” My confidence is building with each word. “I quit my job.”

His feet hit the ground, and he closes the distance between us too quickly. I’m not ready. “Why did you do that? You love your job. If you say this is because of me, I will be so pissed, Emily.”

“It’s not, I promise. It was my own decision.” He’s not touching me, but we’re close enough that all I would have to do is take one deep breath and our chests would connect. “I found another job. I was already looking while we were on tour. It was time, ya know? I don’t want to live in a new city every couple of months anymore.” I chance a look at his face when I say it. “I think it’s time to choose a place and stay there.”

“Where? Where are you going? Just come with us. You can make that decision when we get back, right? You’ll like Japan. I’ve heard—”

“I can’t. I start my new job in two weeks. You knew I wasn’t going to go with you to Europe and Japan. You knew that.”

“Just tell me where you’re going. When I get back, I’ll come to you. We’ll figure something out, right?”

I touch his arm and move into him, still seeing the distress in his eyes. “I got a job here. And it’s not . . . I didn’t make this decision because of you. This place? This place feels more like home than anywhere else I’ve ever been. If you want to stay with me for a bit when you get back, then that works. We’ll take it slow. We’ll find a place for you, and I’ll have mine, and we’ll just do this thing . . .”

“What if I want your place to be my place? What then?”

I smile, the hope in his words making my nose sting. “Then you can come with me to look at places tomorrow. I don’t know. Does this feel rushed? I’m not pressuring you. This is what I want. This is where I want to be. I want to see Hollis get fat, and I want that baby to throw up on me when Jon is too tired to feed it. I want to see Cam finally find someone he won’t have to be paid to hit on. And Shawn? I want to see him regret Carrie.”

“And me? What about me?”

I’m holding him so close now that I can barely see his face beyond his chin. “You? I’m going to be here when you figure it out.”

“What?” His eyes are trained on the wall behind me when I pull away.

“When you figure out that the music isn’t in me—it’s in you. You hear it in everything. I’ve seen you. Name something that doesn’t inspire you.”

He takes a deep breath but continues to fixate over my head. “Silence. I’m uninspired when you don’t fill the space with your noise. Your heartbeat and laugh?
That
inspires me. Don’t say that it doesn’t just because you don’t hear it.”

“I think—and this is just my opinion—I think that all you needed was to feel like someone believed in you so that you could believe in yourself. And I do. But what you need to see is how much other people believe in you, too. They always have.
You
are your biggest stumbling block in all this. You want to believe that you can’t do it, and I don’t know why. Are you afraid to succeed? Do you think if you stay small, then your dad will keep being right?”

The right side of his mouth lifts, and he rolls his eyes. “Can you stop interviewing me, please? I’ll do this without you. If I know I get to come back to you, I can. This thing between us is too big. I want it too much.”

Everything inside me knows that he’s terrified—of crowds, of making it big. He’s afraid of leaving me behind for months because his absence and distance could mean I’d just be another Addie. But I’m not.

“So. The apartment. I’m looking at two. One has these huge windows, but the other has more space.”

“I like windows.”

“Yeah?”

He finally embraces me, and his voice drops an octave when his lips reach my ear. “Have you ever been bent over to watch the city below as you come?”

“Jesus, Tyler. You have a filthy mind.”

“Maybe, but now you really want that apartment, don’t you?” He’s chuckling when he pulls me closer and all but drags me to the ladder. “Come up here with me. I want to show you the view.”

I climb, and he follows, grabbing my ass every time I hit a new rung. When we’re in the loft, I turn to see if there’s anything worth looking at up here, but all I see is scattered hay.

He’s by my side and takes my chin in his hand to angle it up. There’s a small hole in the ceiling, and the sky is visible, stars bright in an inky sky. “They’re getting it fixed this week.” We sit, and I lean back on my elbows, legs stretched out while we stargaze. “Where’s your new job?”


Music Today
. In Austin. It’s a senior position, and I’m nervous as hell, but I don’t have to go places as often.”

He turns to look at my face while I continue to stare through the hole. “So tell me, Emily Portman from
Music Today
, how are we going to make this work right now?”

I shrug and fight a smile. “Video chat. Texts when you’re on the road. I can send you dirty pictures and keep your mojo working.” My eyes slide over to gauge his reaction. “Don’t send dick pics, though. Once you hit the charts in Japan, someone can tap your phone and get that really easily. I don’t care if they see my tits. I won’t put my face in the pictures.”

Tyler lunges at me, poking me in the side and making me scream with ticklish laughter. He straddles my hips and wraps his fingers around my wrists, pulling them above my head. He looks at me with the most intense adoration and leans down until his nose is touching mine.

“Say you love me.”

“I love you.”

“Say you’ll miss me.”

“Every day.”

Our eyes meet when he says the next words, and I’m ready to give the answer we both want to hear.

“Say you’ll wait for me.”

“Say you’ll want me when you come back,” I whisper.

“Wanting you hasn’t been a problem. I want you all the fucking time.”

“Then I’ll wait for you as long as it takes.”

The sky above us is wide open when he tugs my jeans down and pulls my shirt over my head. The batteries in the lantern are starting to lose power, and it blinks soft light while he hovers above my face and gives me the thing that brought us together but no longer defines us.

This slow burn is quiet and filled with promises that we whisper in dim light because we’re letting go in order to come back together in the end. I have no doubts at all.

We hold each other for a while, and I strain to hear the party in the distance. There is cheering and laughter floating up into the sky, and music rises and dips below.

Eventually, we have to get back, so we go about redressing, and he helps me find my discarded clothes. While I am straightening my shirt, I watch him reach for his pants. There is an audible thump, and I glance over to see where the sound came from. A shiny wrapper is illuminated in the light, and I bend at the waist to pick it up off the floor.

A smile breaks out across my face, and I hold it up, my head cocked in amusement. “Mace Face? What is this?”

He turns hastily and reaches a hand out for it, a blush painting his cheeks a beautiful pink color.

I hold it out of his reach and shake my head. “Is this for me?”

He sighs and turns away to put his shirt on. “I saw it and thought of you.”

Pulling the wrapper back, I take the gift out and place it on my finger. “Only you . . .”

He’s so cocky when he turns back around. “Big deal. It’s a Ring Pop.”

I lick the sucker part of the ring and hold his gaze. “I know. But you were girlie enough to think of me when you saw it. Were you gonna propose with it?” I tease him.

His jaw sets in a hard line. “Because I’m
that
lame?”

Crossing the space between us, I reach up and take his face in my palms, turning his eyes to mine. “No, you’re that sweet.” I lick my lips and smile. “Pun intended, I suppose. It tastes like you.”

He leans down and kisses me, his tongue running along mine. “Tastes good, but I’ve had better.”

Epilogue

“Are you ready?” He moves the camera on the laptop so he can see me more clearly.

I smile wide and nod. It’s so late, and I’m beyond tired since I’ve waited up for him to get online.

“Okay, move your fingers there. Yeah, that’s good. Right there. Put your other fingers lower.”

I arch a brow but follow his instructions.

He adjusts himself in the chair and takes a steadying breath. “My God. You look so hot right now.”

I can’t help but laugh at his face.

“Mace!”

He startles and swivels around to see Cam’s head poking in from another room.

“What the hell? I told you this was my alone time with Emily.”

Shawn appears and makes a whacking motion with his hand, and Tyler gives him the finger. It’s nice to see them all so happy.

Hollis is yelling from behind them. “We leave for the airport in three hours. Be packed or stay in Japan. Where you are a giant.”

“I’ll be ready. Now get out!” He throws a shoe at the door and turns back to face the screen, and I am folded over with laughter. “You think that’s funny? I really am a giant here.”

I try to sit back up but can’t, my laughter is too intense.

“Come on. Focus. Now put your fingers back . . .”

I wipe the tears off my face and reposition myself in front of the camera. “Like this?”

He stares at me and nods. “Perfect.”

My right hand drops lower, and I strum the first notes on the acoustic he bought for me. I’m learning quickly, but I always have a problem with holding it correctly. He positions his own guitar and strums along, matching me note for note. “Not too fast.” He guides, and I follow his lead. “You’re getting better.”

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