Love at The Bluebird

“Hey, Al,” he says softly with a tentative smile. “You okay?”

I inhale sharply and whip my head back to look at my best friend. Her lips are swollen, hair disheveled as well, and her cheeks are turning crimson under my scrutiny.

“You have a lot of explaining to do, Mayson.” I exhale the breath I was holding. “You told me the night I introduced you two that he was a conceited asshole.” I narrow my eyes at her in questioning.

“He can be,” she answers with a twitch of her lips and looks at him with adoration. I hear his chuckling getting closer and then he’s standing next to her, his arm around her waist.

“I’m so confused right now,” I grumble with a shake of my head. “How long has this been going on?”

“Since that same night I told you he was a conceited asshole.” She looks at me sheepishly, knowing she’s in so much trouble.

“What the hell, you guys!” I yell out in anger, throwing my arms up and placing them on my hips. “You haven’t said one word about this, Willow!”

“I know, and I’m sorry. I’ve kind of just been wrapped up in Brodie.” He kisses her forehead tenderly, and she looks at him in a way I’ve never seen her look at any other man before. She looks at him like she’s in love with him—the complete opposite of what her feelings were over a month ago. “Just like you’ve been preoccupied with Gavin.”

At the mere mention of his name, tears spring up again and I look up, willing them not to fall. “Yeah, well, that’s about to change.”

“Aly, do I need to go punch his face in?” Brodie’s demeanor changes, his eyes glittering with anger. “Because it would be my pleasure if he’s hurt you.”

I shake my head at him and give him a sad smile. “No. This is actually my fault, but thank you for looking out for me.”

“I’ll give you two some privacy to talk.” He looks down at Willow and smirks, his eyes darkening as he rakes his eyes up and down her body. “Even though my shirt looks sexy as fuck on you, babe, I’m going to need it back unless you want me to walk out of here shirtless.”

“Be right back, Aly. Make yourself at home.”

They go into the bedroom, and I busy myself in the kitchen, grabbing a cup of water to distract myself from hearing their whispers and kisses. Willow comes out of the bedroom in her work clothes, with Brodie right behind her. He gives me a tight hug then kisses Willow goodbye, promising her they will see each other later before he leaves.

“I called work and told them I’m taking the rest of the day off. So sit down and tell me everything.”

We sit down on her couch, and I start from the very beginning of when Kathleen first approached me to her text message today.

“You should’ve told him, Aly,” she says softly after I finished my story.

“Yeah, I know.” I nod sadly in agreement. “I had no idea he was talking to Scotty about Big Little Music. I knew he was upset about having to work with Tori again, and I told him I didn’t care and that I trusted him, but that was the extent of our talks about him being unhappy at Charisma.” Gavin told me about Atticus’s threat and offer to write for Tori again. I wasn’t happy about it, but I told him to do it for his career. After reassuring him that I trusted him and I wasn’t going to be upset with him having to work with her, I haven’t thought about it again. I’ve put off worrying about it, because they aren’t supposed to start working on her new album for another couple weeks.

“Well, you can’t undo the past,” she says with a sigh. “And I don’t think he’s going to break up with you. He loves you.”

I shrug, not really knowing how to respond to that. “I know he loves me but—” I let out a shaky breath. “—the look in his eyes, Willow…” I shiver thinking about it. “He looked like he hated me.” I know after I refused to let him go and cried, something softened in his eyes, but I still don’t know where his head’s at. “He said he needed time to think, and I knew I had to let him go.” I look down and pick at another one of my nails, noticing I’ve chipped the nail polish off most of them in my despair.

“He probably just needs some time to think things through. I’ve seen the way that man looks at you. He isn’t breaking up with you,” she says confidently while studying me closely. “Do you really love him, Aly?”

“With every fiber of my being,” I tell her firmly, my eyes unwavering as I look at her so she knows I’m serious. “But I’m mad at him too.”