26. 26 Parker
26
26 PARKER
I DON’T WANNA MISS A THING
The music hit me as soon as I opened the door, the drumbeat pulsing, the guitar’s notes chasing the tempo. The singer’s voice wove in and out of the melody with the righteous indignation a song like “Just a Girl” required. Oh, right, I thought as I tapped my fingers against my backpack strap in time with the music. It was Patti Mayonnaise night.
I was exhausted. It’d been a long day of classes and dissertation research, and I couldn’t wait to crash. But I wanted to see Gigi first. No, I had to see her.
A little zap of giddiness shot through me as I wove through the crowd. It’d been a near-impossible feat, leaving her bed this morning. If it weren’t for the packed-full to-do list I had for the day, I’d have taken her up on sleeping in. Alas…I’d left her behind, naked and alone.
I desperately needed to make it up to her. With my lips.
Grinning to myself, I craned my neck to see the stage. The other night, Halle had said they were still searching for their singer. Sounded to me like they’d at least found someone for tonight’s show.
Something about the singer’s voice tickled at the back of my brain, lighting the neurons of recognition. As soon as the crowd parted, I saw why.
Gigi stood center stage, bathed in bright lights, her hair a neon halo around her head. She was glowing. Absolutely glowing.
I’d seen her perform before, obviously. But then, she was Gigi, friend and provider of ginger ale whiskies on long study nights. Now? Now, she was…everything.
My next breath stalled out somewhere in my larynx as I stared, captivated.
Oh, god, was she everything.
I was jarred from my trance by someone bumping into my gigantic backpack. “Sorry,” I shouted over the music, forcing my feet to uproot from the floor. Pushing through the crowd, I made it to the bar, where Dante was surrounded by adoring fans—er, customers.
“Hey,” I said when I caught his eye. “You mind if I drop this back there?”
He tilted his head in agreement, and I ducked behind the bar and dropped the absurd thing to the floor, tucking it out of the way so no one would trip. Then…then, I found her again. “Just a Girl” was winding down, and Gigi sang about how she’d had it up to here , voice wrapping around the notes with masterful emotion. By the time she sang the last line, the entire crowd was leaning forward, lambs at the altar.
I shouldered my way around people until I found a spot against the wall, and I sank into it, drinking her in. My eyes stayed on her as she took a swig from a bottle of water, then shook her hair away from her face. Behind her, the band transitioned into their next song. Her fingers tapped against the mic, keeping time with Halle. The moment Tommy joined in with his guitar, the crowd roared with recognition.
The smile that lit Gigi’s face was brighter than every stage light in this place. It illuminated my insides, too. I grinned, basking in the glow. “Bitch” wasn’t exactly a romantic song, but here I was, short of swooning anyway.
I stood there for the next two songs, grinning like a fool. Which was on brand for the entire day, really. I’d been utterly useless all day, unable to focus on anything that wasn’t the memory of Gigi’s lips, or hands, or the freckles along her collarbone. There were seven. I counted them sometime before sunrise, as we lay tangled in her bed. Seven perfect freckles, leading to two perfect breasts, leading to—
“Hello?”
I jumped, tearing my eyes from the stage to find Anya standing in front of me. “Oh, hey,” I said. “Sorry, I couldn’t hear you over—”
“The sound of your basement flooding?” She nodded. “Makes sense.”
I flushed and wished I had a cold drink to press to my cheek. “When did you get here?” I asked, desperately struggling to keep my eyes on my sister and not the hot woman onstage.
“I’ve been trying to get your attention for, I swear, this entire fucking song.” She waved an arm behind her. “The whole time I was pushing through the crowd, I was yelling your name.”
My cheeks burned hotter. “Sorry. I was—”
“Eye-fucking the drummer, yeah. I know.” She shook her head, amusement dancing in her eyes, even as she admonished me. “Is this how it’s gonna be now? Your own sister coming in second to a hot girl?”
The drummer, I thought, pressing my lips together. Oh, right.
I hadn’t seen Anya since…well, since. There was so much to catch her up on.
“Yeah, about that,” I started, as the next song started. Something from Third Eye Blind, so Ryan took over vocals. I stifled the flare of disappointment as Gigi stepped aside to make room for him. “I, um…”
She settled into the spot next to me, bracing a boot against the wall. “You, um, what?”
I’m not interested in the drummer, I thought. I’m very into your boyfriend’s sister, however.
But instead of saying that out loud, I looked back to the stage. Gigi was on backing vocals, but seemed to be having just as good a time. As if she felt me watching, her eyes found mine, and she tossed me a wink. I smiled, heart skipping its next beat.
Oh, yeah. So very into her.
“Okay, what the hell?” Anya shoved away from the wall and stepped in front of me. “You’re a zoned-out mess tonight. Are you good?”
“Sorry, sorry.” I tore my eyes from the stage. “I’m okay. I…didn’t get enough sleep last night.”
Uh huh, my brain chimed in. You wanna elaborate on that?
I pressed my lips together and shoved the thought aside. Onstage, Ryan wrapped up his song, and the music transitioned into what I knew from sitting through countless Patti Mayonnaise shows was their last song. Gigi reclaimed her place at the front of the stage, placing her mic in its stand. “So, anyway,” she said, “here’s ‘Wonderwall’.”
A quiet laugh left me, which earned an annoyed growl from my sister. “Can you stop thinking with your clit for, like, five seconds and have an actual conversation with me?”
“Sorry, yes.” I straightened. With force, I tore my eyes away from Gigi and faced my sister. “Want to go grab a drink?”
She nodded and looped her arm through mine. “Yes. Yes, I do.”
Together, we maneuvered through the crowded bar until we reached the bar, where Dante had served the last guest.
“Perfect timing, ladies,” he said, grinning. “What can I get for you?”
Anya ordered a whiskey neat, and I opted for a soda. I needed the caffeine kick desperately. We thanked Dante and grabbed two stools at the end of the bar. As we sat, Patti Mayonnaise was bringing their show to a close, to loud cheers and whistles. I watched Gigi take her bow, grinning bigger than the whole sky, and I couldn’t help but smile, too.
She belonged up there, truly. I didn’t know why she hadn’t accepted the band’s offer, but I fully planned to find out, and do my best to change her mind. Because the Gigi on that stage right now? The Gigi with flushed cheeks and sparkling eyes? She was almost as beautiful as the version of her I’d been in bed with this morning.
“So, I take it your date went well,” Anya was saying when I turned my attention back to her. “Since you can’t stop staring at the stage with heart eyes.”
Before I could stop it, a laugh slipped past my lips. I clamped a hand over my mouth and looked at my sister. Her sharp brows dropped low, suspicion in residence. “Or…not?” she amended.
“The date was nice,” I said before I took a long sip of soda. “Definitely a nice time.”
“Uh huh.” Her fingers drummed against her glass as she assessed me with a sharp gaze. “ Nice isn’t exactly a glowing review, sister dear. Nice doesn’t vibe with that look on your face.”
I exhaled, slow and long. I was going to have to tell her. She’d get it out of me, anyway. Should probably make it easier on both of us and spit it out now. No tiptoeing. No preamble. Just…out with it.
“So, the date last night,” I started. “It was—”
“There you are.” Gigi threw her arm around my shoulder and leaned close, her nose brushing the space behind my ear. “I knew I saw you in the crowd.”
Anya watched the exchange, eyes narrowing to slits. My stomach flipped. “Here I am,” I said back, the warmth of her nearness immediately sending signals to my lower regions. “You were so good up there!”
She grinned, eyes twinkling like diamonds. “Thank you. I had a blast. Oh, hey, Anya.”
Anya lifted her whiskey in greeting, but said nothing. Instead, she sat back in her seat and took a long draw from her glass, eyes drinking us in.
Oh, I was in for one hell of an interrogation later.
“What’s going on?” she asked as she sat her glass down with a thud .
Or…right now.
Gigi stiffened against me, but didn’t retract her arm.
“I thought you were into the drummer girl,” Anya continued. “I thought you just had a date with her.”
“I was.” Reaching up, I linked my fingers with Gigi’s at my shoulder. “And I did. Halle and I went out, and it was very nice. But…” I shrugged, then looked over to find Gigi watching me, brown eyes soft. I squeezed her fingers. “There’s something better here.”
Gigi squeezed my fingers back, and that took the edge off of the skepticism in my sister’s face. “So, what?” She looked between us, eyes lingering on our linked fingers. “The flirt lessons got a little too real? Is that what happened?”
“Something like that,” Gigi said, her tone dropping a few degrees in warmth.
“Hmm.” Anya threw back the rest of her drink and stood. “How convenient.”
Gigi straightened, her arm dropping from my shoulders. “Hey.”
The two locked stares, silence like stone passing between them, until I stepped between, snapping them out of it.
“In case you missed it,” I said to Anya, “I’m an adult. There’s no need to…whatever you’re doing.”
She looked back to me, the hardness leaving her eyes. “Sorry,” she said, so quiet I was sure Gigi couldn’t hear. “I’m just a little…concerned about this.”
“Don’t be.” I reached out and tugged a lock of purple hair. “I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”
She held my eyes for a beat longer before nodding. “Text me later,” she said as she pulled me in for a hug. “I need to know how the hell this happened.”
I laughed and hugged her back. “You got it.” Then, I shooed her off.
Once she disappeared through the employees-only door to get to Vaughn’s apartment entrance, I turned back to Gigi. “Anyway,” I said, a grin taking control of my lips. “Hi.”
Gigi grinned back, but her eyes were still dark with concern. “Sorry, I probably should have asked how you wanted to handle…well, everything.” She pushed her hair away from her face and sighed. “But…adrenaline, plus seeing this perfect fucking face in the crowd,” she cupped my face in her hands and squeezed, “and I didn’t think it through.”
“It’s okay.” I placed my hands over hers. “I mean…yeah. There’s a lot to talk about. But we didn’t really get to the…talking.” My face heated and I tried to look away, but her hands were still holding me steady.
Her lips tilted in a wicked little smirk. “I don’t know, I think we talked plenty.”
I laughed and pulled her hands away, playfully shoving her. “Tell me,” I said as I let our fingers link at her waist. “How did that happen?” As I asked the question, I gestured toward the stage.
She rolled her eyes, her face transforming with a huge smile that crinkled her eyes. My heart stuttered. “Long story short, I’m a sucker. Long story even shorter? No regrets.”
I looked her over, from the glowing pink of her skin to her luminous eyes, and I grinned, pride filling me up like a hot air balloon. “Oh, man,” I said, “you are so joining the band.”
In a blink, her smile vanished. The spark in her eyes, too. “It was just a one—well, two-time thing.” Then, in another blink, she sidled closer, a new grin in place. “But you know what isn’t a one-or-two-time thing?” she said as she draped her arms over my shoulders.
Despite the questions still pinging in my brain, I smiled. “I think I have an idea.”
“Good,” she whispered, pressing a ghost of a kiss on my lips. “Because I’ve been thinking about you all day.”
My knees knocked together. I clung tight to her. “Not nearly as much as I’ve been thinking about you.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
We grinned at each other like a couple of idiots until we were interrupted by Halle bounding toward us. My stomach flipped. I hadn’t seen her since I left her standing outside of the restaurant. I made no secret of where I was going when I drove away, but still…
“Oh, my god,” she said as we whirled to face her. “You fucking killed, Gi. Like, killed .” She gripped Gigi’s shoulder and gave her a shake. “You are a goddess. A ’90s queen .” She glanced my way, then tossed me a wink. “Hey, Parker.”
I smiled back and waved my reply, thankful for the lack of awkward between us. Halle truly was as great as I’d built her up to be in my head. She just…wasn’t for me. And we were both okay with that.
Moments later, the rest of the band joined us, surrounding Gigi with a flurry of high-fives and Fuck yeahs . I stepped back and let her have her moment. As I watched the pure joy radiating from Gigi in waves and sparks, I tried to understand why she kept refusing their offer to join. What kept her from saying yes to something that clearly made her so happy?
When she caught my eye over Olsen’s shaggy head and winked, I made a silent vow:
Gigi was going to join the band. Whatever it took to convince her, whatever I had to do.
Because she deserved to always be this happy.