“Let me just put the fire pit out and sober up for a few,” he says. “Then we’ll drive on over.”
* * *
I shouldn’t be so jittery.
I’ve played in front of customers at The Nest before, plus other little nameless cafes a hundred times over the years, but now?
It’s different.
This time people know Ember and I are here to play for them, instead of it just turning into a random jam session. Word of mouth spread—and there’s nearly twice as many people here tonight, settled in cozy little clusters, chatting, sipping their lattes and cappuccinos and dark roasts, watching with gentle curiosity while we set up.
Then there’s Blake.
Last time I hadn’t realized he was here until he was already gone, when Ember and Felicity told me he’d watched us play.
Now, he’s settled at a small table near the window—just him, the tall cup of black coffee he’d ordered, and a small, curious smile on his lips, his chin propped up in one hand.
Yet, that sadness is still with him, too.
I’d felt it the entire time we were driving through the snow, silent save for the oldies jingling from the Jeep’s radio.
He’s carrying something so heavy, and still finding it in him to smile just for me.
So I flash him a smile back, telling the butterflies in my stomach to calm down as I climb up onto my stool next to Ember. She’s checking her violin’s bow. She glances over with a sweet smile, her eyes as sunny as her personality.
“You look a little shaky,” she says. “It’s easier singing to him on the radio, huh?”
I let out a flustered sound so awkward and so loud several heads jerk toward us.
My face burns, and I clear my throat, tossing out a quick smile for the waiting crowd before leaning close to Ember and hissing, “Can you stop? I feel like the entire town is watching and waiting for me to fall on my face. I’m Icarus flying too close to the sun.”
“I don’t think so,” Ember says softly, watching me with gentle warmth. “The sun’s out of reach, girl. I don’t think what you want is.”
My throat tightens. I look down, running my fingers lightly over my guitar strings, checking the sound, listening to the faint ripple of notes to make sure I’m in tune.
“How do you know what I want?”
“Everybody knows what you want, Peace. It’s not hard to see there’s something pulling you two together like the red thread of fate in those Chinese stories.” She shakes her head with a soft laugh. “I think the only one who hasn’t really figured it out is him.”
“I’ve been pretty obvious,” I say.
“Obvious to you probably isn’t obvious to him.” With a lighthearted little shrug, Ember lays the bow against her lap, next to the gleaming, well-loved violin resting on her thighs. “Look, I haven’t been here that long. I don’t know him as well as other folks do, but…I know he’s got a lot going on inside his head. And he doesn’t always see what’s right in front of his face. With the guys he’s kind of the last one to get it all the time, but it’s not because he’s dumb. It’s just that he’s worrying about so much all the time. So it’s hard for him to pull away and see what’s right in front of him.”
I let my gaze drift back to Blake.
“Yeah,” I murmur. “I can see that. He’s got his hands full with Andrea and everything else.”
Which makes me worry.
Do I really want to be another thing taxing Blake’s thoughts, making him worry?
Do I even have the right to want to be something like that?
Everything in the sadness hovering around him says no.
But everything that aches inside me for the haunted need in those dark-blue eyes begs yes.
I already know what’s happening.
Tonight, I’ll sing for him like never before.
“You ready?” I settle my guitar across my thighs, glancing at Ember.
“Ready.” She smiles. “How about you lead with whatever you want, and I’ll harmonize? I’m pretty good at picking up a chord as long as you go steady. We’ll improv.”
I laugh breathlessly. “You know what that means, don’t you?”
“Sure do. We’re about to create genius that we’ll never be able to repeat, and no one’s even going to record it.” She laughs, shrugging. “That’s how it goes.”
Right.
Just like those moments that are the most amazing in your life because you’re too busy feeling to document them.
Those moments come in music, too.
When you just play with all your heart, and let it come out of you full of beauty and wildness.
I can feel something in my fingertips, something vibrating and needing to come to life. I only hesitate a second before touching my fingers to the strings, making them quiver, vibrate, and sigh.
I hardly notice the room going quiet, full attention drawn in on us.