Just a drink or two. I’ve only had one so far, after all.
Just to dull the edge.
Nostalgia’s a bitch, and I haven’t been able to cut out that particular bad habit of looking back. Not yet, at least.
Heading back to the wedding reception tents on the beach is calming.
Jeremy gives me a wave, headed the opposite direction. Guess I’m lucky Nolan let me invite my childhood friend along, especially when he’s never been crazy about the guy. But I did have an unused plus-one, so...
Anyway, I ditched my shoes on the way here, so I get to feel the massage of the damp sand between my toes.
The murmur and rhythmic whish of the waves gets my breathing slower and on board too.
I’ve always meant to compose a song to the sound.
I’ve made songs for lots of things—birthdays, trees, a certain ex I encountered tonight who I’m better off not thinking about... but not waves. Not yet.
There are so many things I’d still like to do. So many things I wish I hadn’t.
I’m not a good man. Not half the man I should be.
My phone goes off.
I check it with excitement, then scowl, rejecting the call.
That is just about the last thing I need right now.
“There you are!” Nolan says as I approach the pavilion, jogging over to me, his long dark hair swaying behind him. “I was beginning to worry that you’d taken a midnight swim and ditched us.”
“I was nine when I did that,” I remind him, although I’m smiling despite myself. “And don’t you have a beautiful bride to woo?”
Nolan groans. “Knew there was something I was forgetting...”
We crack up, and he throws his arm around me. “Seriously, though, we’ve danced together for every other song. Now, there’s someone I’d like for you to meet.”
I know that tone all too well. “I appreciate it, Nolan, but I’m not in the mood for—”
“Too late,” he says mischievously, grabbing a paunchy, sunburnt man. “Emerson, meet Yolan. Yolan, meet my brother. AKA the one who was playing the piano.”
As Nolan glides away, sneaky as an eel, the paunchy man’s patchy face lights up. “Ah. So, it was you on that piano up there? Jesus, you were good! I didn’t see who it was, accidentally got some aloe vera cream in my eye while I was trying to soothe my face.” He giggles. “Anyway, how would you like to go on tour sometime? I have a group of classical musicians who tour, and...”
I play along with the man as we chat for the next few minutes. He probably means well. They all do.
Thing is, you can’t take a man too seriously when he’s three drinks in. And I’ve had too many amazing drunken plans—for a South American road trip, an impromptu hike to Boston, a duet with a celebrity, a concert to raise money for poor orphans in Chile—fall through in the weeks afterward to take anything planned over too many drinks very seriously. Even if a tour would be really awesome.
While my career as a pianist hasn’t exactly stalled, it hasn’t really been taking off lately either.
And to think of everything I gave up...
My hand tightens on the deep red cocktail I didn’t even notice getting.
No, better not to think of that.
“How’s it going?” Greyson says, coming up to me just as Yolan wanders off, apparently in search of more aloe vera cream.
I come to and realize I’ve been staring at Wynona unconsciously. She’s on the dance floor with Josie and Sierra, now with Harley and Kyra too, and they’re having so much fun it almost seems like an insult.
“Fine,” I say, turning away. I waggle the drink in my hand. “This is only the second drink, you’ll be happy to know.”
He grunts, his gaze where mine was. “How is she?”
“Who?”
His icy blue gaze snaps to me. “You know.”
“We really have to talk about it?” I ask.
Half the reason I told Greyson about Wynona all those years back was that he was the only brother I could trust not to tell the others. And the one who wouldn’t badger me about it.
“Of course we don’t,” he says smoothly, running his hand through his dark tousled hair. “Not if it’ll drive you to another drink.”
I just scowl.
All I need to do is wait it out... but fuck it, talking about it won’t hurt.
“She still hates me,” I say.
“You expected any different?”
“Not really, just...” I scowl. “It took all my self-control not to go talk to her when we spotted her at the comedy club. Then, I thought maybe if things worked out with Mary...”
“Mary was insane,” Greyson says very calmly.
“She was,” I agree with a sigh. “But in the weeks after, and now my being here, it made me realize. I was only trying to make it work with her to get over Wynona. Same with the girls before her.”