Chapter 9
Nix
I 've been coming to this bar every Saturday night for a month. After hearing her for the first time, I couldn't stay away. Her voice has become something I look forward to, so much so that I’ve found myself fixating on when I get to see her next. She’s in my thoughts daily.
Thankfully, we’re on our break for another two months, and I can devote as much time to her as she wants.
The problem is, she doesn’t exactly know any of this because I haven’t worked up the courage to talk to her.
I’ve been too much of a coward, even going as far as making sure she doesn’t spot me in the crowd again.
Being the drummer of the band has its perks. Regardless of our fame, Ender is the face of Nowhere Forever. People may recognize me, but it's not nearly as often. Nobody has recognized me yet, but eventually, that luck will run out. I need to make sure I talk to her before that happens.
I've learned as much as I can about my little sparrow from the distance I've kept. Tonight will be the fourth time I'll watch her sing, and I'm sure this performance will be just as profound as the first one .
Leaving that first night was hard, but as soon as I left, I knew I would come back. That night brought on a lot of firsts for me. It was the first time I was ever so entranced by another person that I craved them even though I didn’t know them, and the first time I got in trouble for sneaking out.
I suppose ‘trouble’ isn’t the correct term. It was more scolded for being a disappointment. I’m supposed to be the one who falls in line and keeps control like a good boy. Glen had no idea what I was up to, and the fact that I did it without security is obviously frowned upon.
"You're risking your safety for no reason."
"You've never done this before.”
“Why aren't you following the rules?"
"Where did you go and what are you hiding?"
He rambled on for a solid hour before I finally told him what I did in my free time isn’t his business.
That only surprised him more, because what do you mean Nix Peters is acting like that?
Whatever. Following the rules all the time isn’t sustainable.
At some point, people crave defiance. I wanted to see what it would be like, and I was wholly rewarded by being graced with the presence of the most enthralling woman I’ve ever laid eyes on.
She is everything I want, but I’ve been afraid to pursue her.
I watch instead, learning what I can about her from the car.
Sure, it’s also a car driven by a member of my own personal security, but that’s besides the point.
I’ve been following her everywhere when I have time, and I have a lot of time.
Now that I think about it, I might actually be developing some stalker tendencies.
With her, it just feels instinctual, like I'm protecting her.
Her routine was pretty easy to pick up on. Most of her time is spent at home or the bar she works at. She hangs around a red-haired girl pretty often, too. It's good that she has a friend; people need that sort of connection.
I do what I do from a safe distance, and my security pretends to scroll on his phone.
I know the fucker has to be reporting something back to Glen.
He's always got an eye on me. Normally, I would care.
Usually, I care about everything, but she matters more.
This girl has changed me, and she doesn't even know it.
Maybe tonight I'll work up the nerve to talk to her instead of cowering out at the last minute and disappearing. I don't know why I do it, but I don’t think she’s noticed.
I can’t wait to hear her sing again. Every time she’s on that stage, it’s clear how deep her passion for music is.
She pours pieces of her soul into the words, and they come to life through her voice.
There's a yearning for understanding mixed with pain, almost like I’m looking in the mirror.
I'm not sure she realizes how beautifully pained she is, but the torment beneath her surface compels me.
She rules me through her melodies, simply by being another tortured soul craving release but suffering in silence.
It speaks to the very parts of me that endured hardship at the hands of others, the kid that was whipped and scarred rather than loved and cared for.
“Next up is Alara Grey. If you've been here the last couple of weekends, then you already know how amazing her voice is. If you weren’t, you’re in for a special treat. Come on out, Alara." The man's voice pulls me from my thoughts as my sweet songbird immediately traps me with her beauty.
She prepares like she always does, by taking a deep breath as what looks like relief floods her, and she begins. A sad smile accompanies the words that fall from her lips. She sings about how lonely she is in the dark, asking if someone will come find her.
Why are you so lonely, little sparrow? I’m right here.
Could I heal whatever broken pieces she’s singing about? Maybe we could heal each other. I chuckle at the thought. Considering I've never even spoken to her, no, I don't think that will happen.
Her eyes meet mine, and my stomach swirls, heart skipping a few beats. The room feels like it’s gotten at least ten degrees hotter. I need to compose myself, but we’re connected in a way that I can’t even begin to understand. When her eyes flutter shut, I slip away to the bathroom.
Glancing in the mirror, I lean down to throw some water in my face. Be a man, Nix. Talk to the girl. You’re never going to win her over by disappearing. I know it’s time to finally listen to the voice in my head. It’s the only way I’m going to find any peace from the obsession I have for her .
I’m only in the bathroom for a few seconds, but it’s long enough for her to have finished her time on stage. I intercept her just as she steps off, catching her off guard.
She crosses her arms, and her eyes narrow. "Oh, you’re still here. I thought you had somewhere better to be."
Oh, she's fierce. I like it.
"Sorry, I'm not sure what you mean." I play it off as coy as can be.
"You have a habit of disappearing before I finish my song."
I decide to playfully steer the conversation. "Are you watching me, little sparrow?"
"Hardly. Don't read into it." She scoffs, rolling her eyes. “And don’t try to give me some cutesy nickname. I don’t even know you.”
I lean in to whisper in her ear. "What if it was intentional so I could capture your attention?"
Was I leaving early to get her attention? No. It's the exact opposite, actually. I didn't want her to notice me because I was busy being a coward.
She takes a step away, clearly irritated. "That’s a weird way to get someone's attention. You could have just bought me a drink."
"And be like everyone else? No. Now we have something to talk about, a cool story to tell the family one day when they ask how we met."
She bursts out in laughter. "How many times has this bit worked for you? "
I take a step forward, closing the space between us again.
One of my fingers glides along the bare skin on her upper arm, leaving goosebumps in its wake.
"This is no bit. You’ve captivated me in a way nobody else ever has.
I've spent twenty-four years on this earth, fully in control of my actions, until I heard you singing on that stage last month. "
I'm not sure why I felt the need to confess that to her, but I can’t say I regret it.
"Right," she says with furrowed brows, unsure of whether or not I can be trusted.
"Can I buy you that drink?"
There's hesitation. I'm hoping she isn't trying to find a nice way to decline my offer. I don't think I'd be able to stay away if she did. I wouldn't approach her again. I'd surely keep coming back every week to watch her.
Shit. I'm a freaking stalker.
"So, are you or aren’t you trying to be like everyone else?” She raises a brow.
“I’m trying everything I can here.” I shrug.
“I can't," she finally says. "I have to work for another two hours, and I can't drink on the job."
That’s technically not a no. It's an I can't. Okay, new strategy.
"Have you eaten dinner?" She opens her mouth, and for some reason, I interrupt her. "Don't lie to me."
"No, I haven't eaten yet. Not that it's any of your business. There's food at my house waiting for me when I get home."
"Let me go grab you something. "
"Wait, what?"
I don't even know what I'm saying. My body is operating on autopilot, and I'm just along for the ride.
"I'll grab you whatever kind of food you want if you agree to let me share some conversation with you while you eat. I can have it here before you clock out."
Share some conversation? What the fuck am I even saying? There's no way she's going to agree to this. I can already tell she's apprehensive about the entire thing, and now I sound stupid.
"If you're uncomfortable being alone with me, I can just grab the food and drop it off.
We can talk another time. I just want a chance.
I know I'm probably going about it all wrong, but I've never pursued someone before.
" I scratch the back of my neck, all of my previous confidence drifting out into the unknown.
Still, I’m met with silence.
"You make me nervous," I confess.
She studies me, and when she finally feels like she has whatever answer she was looking for, she speaks up. "Fine."
Her phone chimes, and she pulls it out of her pocket, giving me a moment to snatch it from her.
Here I am making more bad decisions before thinking them through.
Fucking hell. I bet I seem like some kind of psycho checking to see who's texting her.
I just want to save my phone number in her contacts.
"Hey!" She reaches out to try to snatch it back, but I dodge her hand.
"Password?" I ask with a sly grin .
"How about no. Give me my phone, weirdo." She reaches for it again, but this time I hold it in front of her face, allowing the facial recognition the second it needs to register.
"Perfect."
"You know, I'm starting to regret even taking the time to talk to you." She points at me.
"I was just putting my number inside so you can text me what food you want."
"And what if I don't want you to have my phone number?" she taunts as I offer her phone back to her.
She snatches it from me, and I can’t help my next move.
I run a finger along the bottom of her jawline before resting my hand on her neck.
Her eyes lock on mine, gaze flickering to my lips.
A fiery heat builds between us, threatening to consume everything in its path.
I'm tempted to push my luck by pressing my lips to hers. What does she taste like? Would she be sweet like a summer strawberry or more bitter like a rich cup of coffee? Either way, if I tasted her right now, there would be no going back. I would devour her, and even that wouldn’t be enough.
“It’s just some conversation with food,” I whisper before reluctantly letting my hand fall and stepping backward to give her some space. I don’t miss the way her shoulders sag slightly from the lost contact.
Silently, she types something into her phone. "I’m done in two hours. Don't be late. "
With that, she pushes past me, leaving my lovestruck ass to stand there in awe. My phone vibrates, pulling me from my daze, and when I glance at it, I grin.
Unknown: I’ll have a burger and fries. No lettuce. Lots of ketchup.
Instantly, I save her number in my phone as ‘My Sparrow’ while trying to decide how to find the best burger around. Who am I right now?