Chapter 9
My heart thumps wildly as Tucker takes the stage, pulling the stool away from the microphone as he gets settled. He looks like a real country singer up on the stage and I imagine where he’ll be a few years from now. Filling up stadiums, probably.
“There she is.” I jump in my seat at the sound of Shawn’s voice. Tonight I want to stay with my friends and enjoy watching Tucker perform, but the look on Shawn’s face tells me that won’t be an option.
“Stand in the front with me, babe?” he asks.
I nod with slight defeat, too tired to argue with him, and slide across the booth seat, giving what I hope is an apologetic look to Grace and Nathan who look both sad and disappointed that I’m going with Shawn again.
Maybe this will be my chance to talk to him though, to tell him that I’m done with our little charade and done with my mom dictating who I can or can’t like and date.
As we approach the group of people standing in front of the stage, Tucker catches my eye and winks as he pulls the microphone toward him.
I look up to see if Shawn noticed, but he’s already talking to Russ about going surfing later.
Apparently surfing at midnight is fun (and incredibly stupid) and thrilling (and incredibly stupid) and Shawn has to do it again (because he’s an idiot).
I roll my eyes, grateful he’s at least not trying to hold my hand.
“Howdy, y’all,” Tucker says into the mic and nearly everyone cheers.
He’s added a bit more twang into his voice.
You wouldn’t think that most of my classmates have a thing for country music, but I think there’s something they like about being here when he performs. Plus, he’s nothing like his father, so I think that helps a bit.
He’s one of us, but he’s not, because he’s already got an agent and a possible record deal.
Everyone sort of idolizes him; they want to be him even though not many people actually know him.
He likes to write and sing. He wants to share his music with the world, but he doesn’t want to be in the spotlight every second of the day.
My stomach flutters nervously. Tonight, in just a few seconds, I get to hear him sing live for the first time in my life.
Yes, I broke our deal one year ago when I watched his one and only YouTube video, a cover of a song I didn’t know, so technically, I have heard him sing.
But not even Nathan knows I watched it. I’ll take that secret to my grave.
I think Tucker would hate me if he knew I broke the deal I was so adamant about making.
But tonight will be the first time I hear him sing live.
“I’m happy to be here with y’all tonight.
” As he speaks, I can picture him in a stadium that’s packed with people.
“I’ve got a nice set planned for you tonight, so let’s get started.
” He’s not going to be singing in random bars during their non-alcoholic happy hour forever.
He strums his guitar and opens his mouth.
His voice is like warm butter. He’s not meant for small things; as he reaches the chorus, I know that he’s going to make it big.
He must know this, too, I think, with how hard he’s worked to get an agent. But he never brags about it; he just says he’s grateful that he’s lucky enough to do what he loves.
It makes me wish I was a little humbler about dance; I’m kind of a snob about how good I am. But hey, I know that I shouldn’t be so cocky about it, so that counts for something, right?
I lose myself to Tucker’s voice. He mostly sings covers, which Grace says is normal. She told me that occasionally he’ll share an original, but those he keeps pretty close to his heart, waiting for the record deal to come.
I close my eyes and let my head fall back as he sings—his singing voice is just a deeper and richer version of his normal voice, and it gives me goosebumps.
When I open my eyes again, I realize that Shawn is gone, and for the moment, I don’t care.
Tucker looks down at me several times throughout the night, sending a thrill through my body each time his eyes meet mine.
Each time he gives me a soft smile—one that’s reserved just for me.
I always said I didn’t like country music, but hearing Tucker sing makes me wonder if I was wrong.
His set is nearly over when Shawn appears beside me again, and one look at his swollen lips tells me everything I need to know. I look around and see Libby standing by her friends, her hair slightly mussed. I let out a huff of frustration.
“Having fun?” I ask sarcastically. Couldn’t he at least make a better effort to pretend to like me so that our parents are happy? Our parents might not be here, but still.
Shawn just grins and takes my hand as Tucker leans into the mic to talk. “This last song is for one of my best friends.” He looks at me and says, “This one’s for you, Rosie.”
I pull my hand from Shawn’s grasp.
One of Shawn’s friends yells, “He’s trying to steal your girl, man.
” Even though he probably knows exactly what Shawn was just doing with Libby.
It’s no secret how Tucker feels about me, it’s no secret the chemistry we’ve always shared.
Shawn just laughs and I know my face is bright red from embarrassment, anger, and a tiny bit of humiliation.
Tucker starts to play and it’s not a song I recognize, but once he starts singing, it’s pretty clear by the lyrics that this song isn’t meant to woo me.
The song is all about what love ain’t, and I know Tucker’s telling me that what I’ve got isn’t love, even if I already know that.
He doesn’t know that I know that. He doesn’t know that the way I feel about him doesn’t even hold a candle to the non-existent feelings I have for Shawn.
“Wanna tell me what’s going on with you two?” Shawn asks when the song is over, his breath hot in my ear. I suppress a shiver of annoyance.
“He likes me,” I say honestly, and as Shawn looks a little miffed, it occurs to me that maybe part of this situation isn’t completely fake for him, even if he was just making out with Libby.
Maybe there’s a thrill there that comes from her not actually being his.
Of sort of being with someone else. He’s the type of guy who wants to have as many girls fawning over him as possible.
Realization of something covers Shawn’s face. “He’s in love with you,” he says. Tucker waves to the crowd and heads off the stage. “You should be with him.”
“Are you fake dumping me?” I hiss at Shawn, surprised. The noise of the crowd starts to fade as I zone in on him. This is what I was supposed to do, he wasn’t supposed to beat me to it.
He’s right.” Shawn looks down at me with a sad sort of smile. “What we have isn’t love, it’s not even real, and it’s never going to be real.” He walks away without another word, toward Libby and his other friends.
For a few seconds, I remain frozen and stunned.
I should feel crushed; that’s what you’re supposed to feel when you get dumped, even if it wasn’t technically a relationship.
But instead I feel the blush on my cheeks spread to the rest of my face, which could be mistaken for a tomato right now.
Everyone near me seems to be staring straight at me, wondering what I’m going to do.
I don’t even know why I feel embarrassed right now— maybe because of the song Tucker just sang that called me out on my crap?
Or the fact that while I wanted to end things with Shawn, I had no clue he was thinking about doing the same.
Do I go after the boy who just sang me a song or head after the boy I’ve supposedly been sort of dating for the past five months?
I turn and head down the small hallway that leads to the backstage area where Tucker headed. I find him standing in the middle of a small room. His back is to me as he sets his guitar in its case.
“What was that exactly?” My voice comes out an octave higher and louder than I intend, startling him. He turns, and I can’t read his expression.
“The truth.”
I look down at the faded pink carpet, too embarrassed to meet his eyes right now.
“Can’t you feel what happens between us, whenever we’re together?” he asks quietly, taking a step toward me. His faded black boots knock against the toes of my sneakers, but I can’t look up at him. “It can’t be the same with him. I can tell that it’s not the same with him.”
I don’t say anything, because of course he’s right, but I’m feeling too many things right now. I swallow, closing my eyes. Be brave, I think.
“I’m sorry if I embarrassed you,” he says, his hand coming under my jaw and tilting my face to look at him. “That wasn’t my intention.”
“I–I’m not embarrassed just because of you,” I stammer. Instead, I say, “I caught him making out with Libby right before you sang that song.”
His gaze shifts from something I don’t know how to interpret into anger. “I’m gonna kill him.”
I hold back a smile. “Then you sang that song and he broke up with me.” The words hang heavy in the air. Can I even call it a breakup if we weren’t actually together? Calling it anything less, though, makes me feel dumb for going along with the charade in the first place.
“He what?” Tucker’s eyes go wide.
“I don’t want to date him,” I say quietly. “I’m single, but my heart belongs to someone else.”
His eyes flare.
“Single?” he asks, as if he’s testing the word, making sure it feels right on his tongue. Guess he’s gonna ignore the part where I said my heart belongs to someone else— that my heart belongs to him.
“Single,” I repeat.
“It’s about damn time,” he says, searching my face, and he must find whatever he’s looking for, because he takes a step closer. My breath hitches as he closes the distance between us and his gaze flicks to my lips. I lick them in anticipation.
My pulse races. For a split second I’m afraid that someone is going to come through the door and stop whatever is about to happen, but no one does, and a moment later, his lips are on mine.
He tastes like the spearmint gum that he’s always chewing, and I smile against his lips. I feel him smile in return, before he pulls me closer, deepening the kiss, and my lips part slightly as he runs his tongue across my lips and I shiver; but he doesn’t deepen the kiss any more than that.
I’m standing on my toes, my hands in his hair, tightening around the soft curls that hit the base of his neck and pulling him closer. He has his arms firmly around my back, pulling me against him.
Warmth spreads through my body as he kisses me, and for a moment, I don’t think about Shawn or cancer or being embarrassed. He shifts, lifting me a few inches off the ground before he pulls away slightly, our foreheads touching. “I’ve been wanting to do that for so long,” he whispers.
Instead of replying, I lean forward and kiss him again. Because for the moment, the only thing that matters is kissing Tucker Bensen.