13. Noah
13
NOAH
I lost the beat for at least thirty seconds.
And when you’re the drummer, you’re not allowed to do that.
But what was I going to do? I’d been watching her move through the crowd the entire show, her camera in front of her face and her fingers working as she snapped picture after picture of the band and the crowd. Her face was glowing with excitement and wonder, like she’d never seen anything so wonderful.
That was a lie, of course. She’d been to plenty of our shows and knew exactly how they went. She’d seen us in venues big and small, and had even been on stage with us more than once. This wasn’t her first rodeo. But she’d never brought her camera in to shoot a show, and she’d never been doing it as part of her job before. Maybe that was the difference. It made sense. I hadn’t talked to her since she got back, but I’d been watching her whenever we were in the same space, and something about her was different. She moved with more confidence now, her steps sure and her laugh quick. When people talked to her, she responded without thinking twice. I’d known the girl for years and knew her expressions better than I knew my own.
She wasn’t wearing the one that said she doubted herself anymore. She’d been gone for a week, and she’d grown into something I barely recognized.
Except that I did. Because she was still my Molly, still the same girl I’d had to save so many times when we were young. I recognized the eyes and the smile and that dimple in her cheek. My fingers remembered the way her skin felt, and my mind could recall the exact scent of her hair.
I’d been thinking all that when I looked up and found her staring at me, her camera at her side and her eyes fathomless. And something had shot through me, pinning me to my stool as if I’d been nailed there. My heart had stopped. My breath had gone out of my lungs, and I hadn’t been able to get it back. All I could see was her, one solid point in the middle of a swirl of lights and smoke and people. And God, I’d wanted her. I’d wanted to throw the sticks down and run off stage, leaving the guys to play on their own. I’d itched to run through the crowd, shoving them out of my way until I got to her. I wanted her in my arms, my nose buried in her hair and her laughter in my ear.
I’d wanted it so bad it had been the only thing I could think of for that long moment when we were caught staring at each other.
And then that guy–that same guy, with the blond curls–had appeared behind her again and pulled her attention away from me.
It had been enough to break the spell I’d been under, though it took me too long to get myself back together and my drumsticks working again. And in the space between losing her and remembering myself, I had enough time to remember a few things. I’d asked Anna what was going on and she told me Molly had come back to the tour because her magazine wanted shots of the tour. They were doing a whole spread. Good news for us, I guessed. Except it meant Molly had arrived with a whole gaggle of reporters.
Including, I guessed, the guy with the hair.
I didn’t know if he was anything more than a coworker to her. Maybe he was just a reporter who came from the same magazine. Someone she knew but didn’t want anything to do with. Or maybe he was her boyfriend and had every right to touch her the way he was touching her. It didn’t matter. I hated him touching her so casually, like he did it all the time.
At that moment, Matt turned away from Anna, who he’d been drooling over, and gave me the most scathing look Matt had ever used. “What are you doing?” he mouthed. “Play!”
That was all it took. My instincts kicked back in, muscle memory started up again, and my foot started tapping on the paddle. Seconds later my arms were vibrating and I was getting back into the rhythm of the music. I knew this song. We’d played it at least five hundred times.
I knew my role.
I hit one drum, then another, experimenting with the timing, and then flew back into the song, my hands a blur in front of me. This was natural. Easy. Familiar. I didn’t have to think about drumming, because my body knew how to do it without my brain having to do anything. And that was great.
Except on days when I wanted my brain to shut up.
Right now, it was speeding through the thing I’d just seen and how it made me feel. I couldn’t get past the fact that Molly hadn’t come to see me since she got back. She’d acted like she didn’t even know me, and that didn’t feel right. No matter what had happened between us–and I still didn’t know what had happened–she’d always been happy to see me. I didn’t understand how she could avoid me. It didn’t fit the reality we’d spent so long building together.
Maybe she was just waiting for the right moment to approach me. I mean I had been pretty busy. We woke up this morning and went right into preparation for the show, and she wasn’t exactly backstage helping with that anymore. I’d also been working on my angles for the new record execs, who I was supposed to meet with tomorrow.
Even if she’d been looking for me, I’d been unavailable.
But if I could get her attention and get her by herself, I was betting she’d have a whole lot to tell me. She’d never been shy with her opinions, and if she had something she needed to tell me, I just needed to give her the opportunity. Tell her I valued everything she had to say. The truth was, I could use her opinion right now. I wasn’t sure how to handle this first set of execs. Hell, I didn’t even know for sure that the other guys were going to be on board with my proposals. They weren’t coming to the meeting with me because they weren’t interested.
They didn’t see how important this was, and the more I thought about it, the more I realized I didn’t even want them involved.
I wanted her. Her advice and thoughts and brain. I needed her support.
I stopped drumming again at that, the thought so big that it almost knocked me down. I’d never thought about how much I actually needed her, because she’d always just been there. I hadn’t had to worry about it. She’d been giving me what I needed for years, and I hadn’t even seen it. And now that she wasn’t giving me her attention, I felt like my world had been flipped upside down.
I hadn’t had a clue.
Holy fuck.
My arms, which had frozen, suddenly started moving again, going through the motions I needed, and I let them. My eyes, though, went back into the audience, looking for the girl I’d been ignoring for far too long.
I found her near the back of the room, her back against the bar and a beer sitting next to her. She was alone, thank God, and staring at me with her lip caught between her teeth. When our eyes met, she gave me a half of a smile, like she wasn’t quite sure what the reception would be.
And I grinned back, unashamed of how happy I was to see it.
Because that was my girl right there. And I was hoping–praying–that when I got off this stage and went to her, she’d be waiting with open arms and a brain that was ready to go to work on the plans I had in mind.