Chapter 36
thirty-six
“Y’all sure do know how to make a couple guys from out of town feel welcome.
Thanks for hanging out with us tonight.” Jess opens his arms wide to gesture to the raucous crowd.
The bar is packed to capacity, which, if the sign on the wall by the stage is to be trusted, is one hundred seventy-five.
They cheer, clap, whistle, and raise pints of beer.
Gus is clapping above his head as he crosses the small stage to stand between us, drawing us in with an arm around each of our shoulders.
“Damn, that was fun,” he says to us, before he yells, “The future is Thicker Than Water, ladies and gents! Let’s hear it again for Jesse and Ever!” to the crowd.
If possible, they cheer louder.
I catch Soph’s eye. She’s standing with Scout, Gemma, and Audrey against a wall near the bar with a clear view of the stage. I know I’m grinning like an idiot, but I can’t help it when she looks at me like that. Her smile is happiness, pride, and excitement, and it’s contagious.
Franco joins us, standing next to me. He leans into the mic to speak, but then stops, shakes his head, and laughs, before tilting his head to look at Gus. “That was insane, right? It’s not just me?”
Gus nods and agrees. “Fucking insane, dude.”
Franco looks from Gus to Jesse to me and then back to the crowd. “Mark this day on your calendars, because what you saw here tonight was the start of something special. The sky’s the fucking limit for these two.”
How did I get here? After feeling so isolated and so alone for years, I’m standing on stage with three people who want what’s best for me. And not because they’ll get something out of it or profit. But because they believe in not only my talent, but me. Soph too. God, I’m lucky.
When the crowd begins to quiet, Franco adds, “Jesse and I are gonna go grab a beer while these two,” he points to Gus and me, “fuck around and make everyone fall in love.” When we break apart, Gus hugs Jesse, and Franco hugs me.
“It was an honor. Truly,” he says, before he releases me.
Before they leave the stage, Franco backtracks a few steps to the mic and points at his wife, “Gem, this next song’s for you too.
You know that saying about comparison being the thief of joy?
Well, Gus is gonna do his best to be sexy, and we all know how hard that is for him, so I told him I’d sit this one out to take a little of the pressure off. ”
“Take it off, Gus!” Mabel yells from the center of the room, where she stands between Lola and Keller.
Laughter erupts, me included, and Franco claps and points at her, saying, “It’s not that kind of show, Mabel, but I like your style,” before he jumps off the stage to join Jess.
Gus is still laughing as he pulls the nearest mic stand to the piano and adjusts it. Taking a seat on the bench, he says, “Thanks for the encouragement, Mabel. And for sitting one out, Franco, you majestic bastard.”
The crowd laughs again. Humor is the great equalizer, especially when it puts people at ease.
“Can I ask a huge favor?” Gus is talking to the front row.
“Would you mind doing us a solid and making a little room? We’re about to serenade the shit out of two women who are way out of our league, and we’re not above using front row access to our advantage.
Like Franco said, I can use all the help I can get. ”
I drag a stool to the center of the stage, acoustic guitar in hand. Adjusting the mic stand, I say, “Agreed, I’m not above bribery. Soph and Scout, make your way down front, please.”
While the crowd shuffles, Gus swivels on the bench to face me, hands clasped loosely, elbows resting on his knees. “You ready?”
He looks so relaxed, and I wish I could steal some of his calm because my heart is hammering in my chest. I haven’t been nervous all night, but I am now. “As I’ll ever be,” I say and hope it’s true.
When Gus turns around, I close my eyes and take a few deep breaths.
When I open them, Soph’s concerned eyes are there to meet mine.
Other than the debacle in Tulsa, we haven’t publicly acknowledged our relationship, and I worry that I’ve overstepped with this sort of display, until she mouths, “You okay?”
I smile because I can’t help it when I look at her, nod, and answer, “I am now.”
She smiles and winks, and I consider jumping off the stage and stealing her away somewhere we can get lost in each other for the rest of the night.
Gus saves the day when he says, “So, this final song was Ever’s idea. Selfishly, I asked to join him because my wife loves this song. And because I’m basically a fifteen-year-old, lovestruck boy at heart, I’ll never stop trying my damnedest to impress her.”
Scout blows a kiss from her spot directly in front of him in the crowd.
My fingers begin strumming of their own volition, because music is a cape I can slip into.
When I’m surrounded by it, it’s easier to be me, bared.
Absently, I strum a few chords. It’s background noise while I talk to Soph and pretend everyone else has disappeared.
“The first time I saw you, I couldn’t breathe.
” I scrape my teeth over my bottom lip and smile while remembering.
“In a sea of out-of-focus faces, you were a siren. I wanted to put down my guitar mid-song, take you by the hand to a table in a dark corner, and just, I don’t know…
know you. I wanted to hear your voice, and make you laugh, and taste those lips, and ask you a hundred questions because the answers already felt essential.
Fate put you in my path over and over and over again, to tease and test and taunt and tempt,” I glance down at my hands and then back at Soph, “and turn me on.”
She smiles.
So do I.
Approving whistles bounce around the room.
Gus groans and playfully mutters, “Fucking hell, now you’re just trying to make me look bad, Evermore.”
I laugh and wrap things up as I start strumming the intro to “Iris.” “I’m so damn grateful to be in your orbit, Soph. You make me better. And I know you’re not stoned in your bathroom, but hopefully this song still makes for a good finale.”
Eyes locked with Soph’s, I don’t just sing the first verse.
I promise it.
Every word.
The tears welling up and the sweet smile tell me she heard it.
Gus joins in on the keys and the lyrics for the chorus. His voice is soft, only there to add depth in harmony.
When we pause, it’s so quiet you could hear a pin drop and goose bumps rise on my legs.
The remaining verses and choruses are traded off spontaneously, not at all how we rehearsed them at the studio last night.
It works. The song building to a crescendo by the final chorus, that sounds bigger than two men, a guitar, and a piano have any right to.
Eyes squeezed shut. Tendons in my neck straining.
The pick in my hand an all-out assault on strings, bending them to its will.
Gus’s voice, deep and raspy, fighting alongside mine like we’re in battle together.
My favorite live performances are the ones that feel maddening, like I’ve pushed everything to the brink and am only mildly confident I can reign it all back in when I need to.
That’s this moment.
As the thunder fades to silence, and I pause before strumming the outro, I open my eyes. The crowd is swaying as one. Cell phones held overhead, lights aglow.
When I look at Soph, I’m thankful I’m done singing because there’s a lump in my throat that I’m not sure I can swallow back.
As I strum the final chord, I catch Gus out of the corner of my eye already standing next to me. I stand to meet him, as the crowd, once again, erupts.
Taking the mic from the stand, I say, “Thank you. I will never,” I shake my head, “ever, forget tonight.”
I’m talking to the crowd, and Soph, and Gus.
I hug him and hand him the mic. Then I drop to my knees, take Soph’s face in my hands, and kiss her.
It feels like I’m pledging eternity and begging for it simultaneously.
It’s slow and unrushed and when she parts her lips and welcomes the sweep on my tongue with hers, I can’t help but deepen it.
Whistles register in my ears, and it dawns on me that though we’re lost in this kiss, we’re also being watched. When I pull back to look at her, I know it’s not the right place, but I know, without a shadow of a doubt, it’s the right time. I can’t let her go without saying, “I fucking love you.”
Her smile is slight as she stares at me, her fingers stroking the hair at the back of my head. Finally, she looks wistfully at the stool behind me where I sat and played and promised, and says, “I know. I heard it,” before her eyes come back to mine. “I love you too, Ev. So fucking much.”