Chapter 27
ANDERSON
The lights go down, and the murmuring of the crowd fades into a series of cheers as the opening band steps on stage, instruments in hand.
We’re close enough to the stage to see the two guitarists file in on one side, the bassist on the other. The drummer comes from the back, sitting and raising his arms overhead, holding his drumsticks as he sits behind his kit, and the screams intensify.
Emerson cups her hands around her mouth, yelling as the lead singer—her friend who got us these tickets—makes his way on, the stage lights still down.
As a music lover, I have a good amount of knowledge of artists—especially those from Milwaukee or the Midwest. This opening band, Sugarcoated Lies, is originally from Madison and is much smaller than the headliner, Cross My Heart.
They’re one of the two bands—the first one having finished up just as we got here tonight.
Ava taps on my shoulder, and I lean down so I can hear her better. “Have you heard of these guys?”
I move my lips to her ear to talk over the cheering. “Yeah, they’re pretty good. I’ve been streaming their songs since Emerson got us the tickets for tonight.”
“Same,” she replies. “Her friend Liam is super talented. I think it’ll be a fun show.”
When I read up on this farewell tour, Cross My Heart’s lead singer, Mateo Lane, was credited for giving Sugarcoated Lies a shot—the same way a band did for them when they were trying to grow as a local band in Milwaukee.
The concert space is one big hall, dark and dim with neon lights lighting the bar that circles the back of the venue.
There’s empty space behind us still waiting to be filled, and I’ve been to enough concerts like these to know that it will fill up more during Sugarcoated Lies’ set until it’s at capacity for Cross My Heart.
Ava’s head turns to the stage as the lights come up. She claps her hands and cheers along with the crowd, and the first strum of the chords is like an electric current over the already loud venue.
As the song starts, the crowd gets tighter, and more people want to get closer to the music.
It brings our group closer, Ava standing in front of me next to Rumi, who is in front of Jack.
Emerson is on the other side of me, and I don’t know if it’s her tattoos, her piercings, or just her overall vibe, but the group of guys who start filling in some of the empty space around her don’t get too close, as if she’s just radiating her “leave me alone” vibe.
I feel a few bumps behind me, but I don’t mind. It gives me an excuse to get closer to Ava.
We all nod our heads to the music, Emerson singing along, and I find myself wondering why I don’t do this more often.
It’s been a bit since I’ve gone to a concert, and I forgot how fun it is to be surrounded by people here for the same reason as you—to get lost in some music for a couple hours and forget about all the other shit weighing you down.
When the first song finishes, the lead singer thanks the crowd and introduces themselves, sharing how excited they are to be playing on the same stage as Cross My Heart and kicking off their tour tonight.
The next song starts, and it’s one I recognize. Ava does too, excitement radiating off her as she bounces on her toes, her hair swinging behind her as she sings along with Emerson and Rumi.
As she moves, there’s a whisper of her body against mine, and I have to fist my hands to resist the urge to set my hands on those hips she keeps swaying from side to side, occasionally brushing up on me and making me dizzy.
I drag a slow breath through my nose, trying to focus on the music instead of the warmth of her.
It’s impossible.
One song fades into the next.
Every time she laughs or throws her head back to belt out a lyric, she bumps into me again like she doesn’t even realize what she’s doing. Or maybe she does.
Before I know it, the band is announcing their final song, and the volume of the venue stuns me out of my brain with how loud it’s gotten. Turning around, the space is completely filled, no more space between the crowd and the bar like there was before.
As the music starts up again, Emerson, Ava, and Rumi grab each other's hands, holding them over their head as they sing along, bringing the attention of the lead singer—Liam—to them. He smiles as he sings, pointing a tattooed finger at the girls as he holds his microphone.
The girls sing even louder, and I look at Jack, his face hard as if he’s ready to step in the middle of anyone stupid enough to get too close to the girls, especially Rumi.
But when Rumi turns to him, singing the words right at him, he cracks a smile.
Ava and Emerson dance together in the tight space just in front of me, and while I probably don’t come across as outwardly intimidating as Jack to the people around us, I stay alert in case anyone doesn’t respect their space.
Both Ava and Emerson can handle themselves, Rumi too—there’s no doubt about that. But I can’t help wanting to be that extra layer of protection, especially for Ava.
Emerson twirls Ava around, and she ends up back right in front of me, but much closer than before. At the beginning of the concert, there were a few inches. Now, all it would take is an exhale to feel her against me.
Ava turns over her shoulder, her eyes flicking up for half a second, catching mine in the dim lights, and something in her smile shifts.
Not innocent. Not entirely.
Just enough to make my pulse kick harder, and my hands curl tighter at my sides, because if she keeps looking at me like that, I’m not sure how much longer I’ll be able to keep my hands to myself.
“They’re amazing!” Rumi exclaims, the five of us finding a spot on the edge of the crowd while we wait for Cross My Heart to come on.
“I told Liam how I really think they could definitely blow up like Cross My Heart did,” Emerson adds from where she leans against the bar, waiting for the drinks and the water for Ava she ordered.
It wasn’t until I learned about her mom that I realized I’ve never seen Ava with alcohol herself, but she’s always expressed that being around people drinking doesn’t bother her, as long as they can handle their liquor.
“I honestly can’t believe a band as big as Cross My Heart used to play at the bar right next door to Hey Honey’s? And that you used to serve them all the time,” Rumi says, bumping her hip into Ava’s.
“That was a long time ago,” Ava says as she uses both hands to fan her face.
Her cheeks are flushed from dancing around in the middle of the crowd, and it sends a kick of desire right to my stomach, reminding me of all the other times her cheeks were flushed like that—it’s been too long since I’ve seen them that way, not since that night over a month ago.
“You used to work at Lenny’s?” I ask Ava, surprised she’s never mentioned it.
She nods. “The drummer used to work there before I did, and he’s best friends with my bosses, Luke and Annie. They own Hey Honey’s and actually used to work at Lenny’s, too.”
“And the drummer is married to the lead singer’s little sister,” Emerson adds as the bartender slides over our drinks to her. “She does all the graphic design for Hey Honey’s.”
“Damn,” I reply, surprised by this snippet about Ava that I didn’t know—and about the family affair among the employees of Lenny’s and Hey Honey’s.
Ava waves her hands in front of her. “But it was a long time ago. I hadn’t even met Rumi yet.”
“And Jett was still in the picture,” Rumi says, shivering in disgust at the mention of whoever Jett is.
Emerson makes a gagging sound as she hands Rumi her drink and Ava her water. “I never even met your asshole of an ex, and his name still makes me want to puke.”
I feel my insides twist at the mention of Ava’s ex, but I try to ignore it. She’s never mentioned any of her exes, and why would she? It’s not like we’ve ever needed to.
I’ve learned everything I know about Ava through observing her, obsessing over her, and saving any and all traces of information about her that I can.
Ava laughs at Emerson’s comment, but I see the way her body slightly stiffens.
I don’t like that reaction.
“Anyway,” Emerson offers, and I think she picked up Ava’s discomfort, too.
The two exchange a glance, but I can’t really decipher what it is.
It’s like they have a whole conversation with their eyes before Emerson turns to grab a couple of beer cans, handing one to me and one to Jack before picking up the third one still sitting on the bar.
She holds it up in the middle of all of us.
“To this trip actually making it out of the group chat.” We all hold up our drinks, tapping them together, the subject officially changing.
I look over at Ava, a soft curl to her lips, and I wish I knew something I could say or do to see what her full smile looks like—I can only imagine how beautiful it is. I picture it relaxed and carefree—the same way she looks when she would let herself let go during those stolen nights of ours.
“Thanks for getting us these tickets,” Rumi says to Emerson after we all take a sip of our respective drinks.
She turns to Ava. “And thanks for being the one to book the hotel and find the flights.” Rumi’s cheeks are rosy as she smiles at Ava, reaching for her hand.
“I honestly don’t know what we’d do without you. ”
“Good thing you’ll never have to know,” Ava replies, squeezing Rumi’s hand before letting it go. She tries to hide the emotion in her voice with the way she keeps it light, but I still catch it.
Clearing her throat, Ava announces that she’s going to use the bathroom before Cross My Heart comes on. Emerson and Rumi tag along, leaving me and Jack on our own. We watch them join the long, winding line, and I figure it will be a little while until they’re back.
I handle most of the conversation, the norm when it comes to Jack and me.
We talk about the bands and their songs, some of the spots we found on the Strip, and other random shit.
When I glance over my shoulder, I see the girls have finally made it inside the bathroom, the line moving quicker than I thought it would.
We’re both agreeing how nice the weather is here in Las Vegas compared to back home when I notice a small container sitting on the bar, next to a stack of cardboard coasters.
Squinting my eyes, I make out the familiar little square.
Reaching over, I pull out one of the boxes of matches, the name of the concert venue printed across the top.
Sliding it into my pocket, I wonder if Ava noticed them, maybe grabbed one for her collection. I probably would’ve noticed if she did—but it doesn’t matter.
This one is for her anyway.
I fall back into conversation with Jack when I feel someone standing just a little too close.
Someone who isn’t Ava.
“Hi,” the stranger says, causing my head to turn. She’s a little taller than Ava, but she still has to look up to meet my eyes. Her blonde hair is tied back into a long ponytail, showing her sharp cheekbones and lips that look just a little too big to be natural.
“Hello,” I offer, to be polite, knowing Jack won’t be the one to say anything. The fucker will barely say a word to me—and he knows me.
“What’s your name?” the woman asks, and I feel her hand trail down my arm. The touch feels weird, foreign.
“Anderson,” I answer politely, but I don’t ask for hers.
I don’t really care what it is.
The way her teeth sink into her bottom lip as she eyes me with a hungry glare tells me everything I need to know. I take a small step away from her, angling my body slightly and causing her hand to drop. She wobbles a little bit, in a way that tells me she’s had plenty to drink tonight.
She reaches out to grab my arm again as she catches her balance, and I don’t like how warm it is on my skin. It’s not the same warmth that I feel whenever Ava accidentally brushes up against me or on one of the rare chances she reaches for me.
Those moments are few and far between, but I’d take just the chance of Ava touching me over the way this woman keeps pawing at me.
“Are you guys from around here?” she says, her voice breathy and a little slurred.
I glance at Jack, who takes a sip of his beer. He lifts a brow at me, but he doesn’t say anything.
“No, we’re not,” I say, gently plucking her hand from my arm, using two fingers to grab her wrist.
But she doesn’t take the hint.
Instead, she steps even closer, and I’m backed against the bar, with not much room to move with how crowded the venue is getting as we get closer and closer to Cross My Heart coming on.
“Well, where are you from?” she asks when I don’t say anything more.
“Wisconsin,” I answer, trying to hold on to my patience. Her blonde ponytail swings as she sways, and I glance around her, hoping she has friends close by.
“Well, Wisconsin,” she slurs. “Can I buy you a drink?” She blinks her eyes up at me, glassy and unfocused, and now I know she’s drunk. Also, does she not see the drink in my hand?
“I’m good,” I tell her, holding up my can of beer for her to see.
“Come on,” she manages to say, but it sounds like the words were hard for her to get out. “Aren’t people from Wisconsin big drinkers?” She laughs at herself as if she just told the funniest joke, even though it was barely a sentence.
I force out a chuckle. “Yeah, sure,” I say. “But, like I said, I’m good.”
“Come on, it’s just a drink,” she says, lightly slapping her palm on my shoulder, her touch lingering.
“Oh!” we hear, and it causes the woman in front of me to turn around, finding Ava, her arms crossed over her chest, Emerson on one side of her and Rumi on the other.
“You’re getting drinks? We’ll all take another.
” There’s a layer of malice in the way Ava speaks the words, eyeing the woman up and down, confidence coming off her in waves.
It has my dick twitching.
“No,” the girl says, scoffing, turning back to me and Jack as if Ava is the one out of line.
Ava comes to stand at my side, putting herself between me and the woman, and cocks her head. “No? Well, that’s weird,” she remarks, pretending to be confused. “I could’ve sworn I heard you offer my husband one.”