Chapter 32
Tate
“WHAT?” I yell above the beat of the music, a mere couple inches from her face.
“I SAID, WHAT'S WRONG?”
I point to my ears and shake my head. Callie breathes a sigh of irritation before locking her hand around my wrist and dragging me through the bar.
This place is packed. Wall-to-wall people.
Not that outside is much better. I naively thought December wouldn’t be so busy, but I stand corrected.
Between the bachelor and bachelorette parties, it’s basically Vegas with an accent.
Callie pulls me to a small corner by the railing overlooking the strip. The cool breeze brushes against my damp skin in the best way.
“What’s wrong?” Callie’s voice pulls me from the moment.
“Nothing’s wrong.”
She shakes her head. “You’re literally the only person I know who, one, walks into an audition for backups and ends up with her own record deal, and secondly—”
“Come on, Callie, you know they want to just ride the wave of American Icon...”
“So what?! You think they just pass those things out? Like testers at Costco? No! You earned that and you’re going to kill it.”
“And two?” I ask, pulling her into a hug.
“There is no two,” she says into my shoulder. “I just want you to be happy.”
“I am happy.” I push her out at arm’s length just to pull her back in.
“Hey, Tate...”
“Hmm.”
“Levi’s here.”
There is an audible crack in the Earth’s surface, or at least in me. I release my sister, stretching to my full length, before turning. Right. Into. Him.
“Whoa, Levi. Hi there. Funny, me being here and you also being here. I bet you’re wondering why I’m here.
Well, funny story—” But before I can finish saying everything I’m not saying, he swoops me up and over his shoulders, my hair dangling like a veil in front of me.
“Put me down! You can’t just go around picking people up!
” I punch his backside a couple times as he pushes through a door and sets me down.
I look around and we’re in...a fire escape?
The cement dampens the noise of the music and people to a normal volume.
He stands tall, arms crossed against his broad chest, mood unreadable as always.
“Levi, as much as I want to do this, my sister is alone in a bar.”
“She’s not alone. Tim’s with her.”
“Who’s Tim?”
“My business partner.”
I take a seat on the steps by the door. “You have five minutes.”
I watch as he blows out a gust of air and runs his finger through his hair. His facial hair is about the only thing that’s changed since I last saw him.
“Where’d you go? Why’d you leave?”
It’s not that I didn’t anticipate those questions, but it’s the look in his eyes that’s doing me in. The sadness. The hurt.
“I just...I just didn’t belong there. I couldn’t play Jan’s game, and I know winning is important to you, so I thought slipping out in the middle of the night was the easiest for both of us.”
“Easier for both of us? You mean easiest for you. Not saying anything? Changing your number and blocking me on socials? No, Tate, you ran because you’re scared.”
“What am I scared of?” The question seems to self-generate.
He shakes his head. “Probably the same thing I’m scared of. Us.”
“Us? It was a fling; you should know that. You invented the word.”
He takes a seat next to me, his width devouring the step. “It wasn’t a fling for me,” he says, not looking at me.
“And Gabriella?”
“What about her?”
“Are you guys...”
“Gee, Tate, you know as well as anyone we can barely stand each other. She’s too much 90 percent of the time and the other 10 percent she’s just difficult.”
I can’t suppress a laugh, letting my weight take my upper half down to his shoulder. I missed him, missed this.
“Levi.”
“Hmm.”
“I got signed to a record deal today.” I turn my head, so my chin is on his shoulder. I want to see his expression. His eyes go big as he turns his head to look down at mine.
“For real?” he asks, eyes wide.
I nod quickly, feeling my eyes go glassy.
“Tate, that’s amazing!” He squeezes me into his side. “Which one?”
“Centricity.”
“Is that the Christian label?”
“Yeah, curveball, I know. But this is where I think I’m supposed to be. It feels right.”
He presses a soft kiss to my forehead. “I’m happy for you. Let’s celebrate.” He pulls me to a stand and it’s like changing universes.
“What’d you have in mind?”
“That depends on how long you’re here...”
“We leave Sunday. So, two more days?”
“Alright, in the next two days, I’m going to give you the locals-only tour, okay?”
“Yeah, okay.” I smile. His pocket buzzes. He pulls it out, but quickly stuffs it back in.
When we get back inside, Callie is nowhere to be found. She’s not by the railing or the bar. Something inside of me is inching towards panic. I look at Levi, and somehow, he just knows.
“She’s here,” he yells above the crowd. “Don’t worry.
” He pushes up on his toes, growing another foot or so, scanning the crowd.
I wait down here on Earth for him to come back down and report.
When he does, it’s a quick hand hold and a tug through the sea of people all swaying to a whiskey lullaby.
After a handful of excuse me, I’m sorry, and coming through, we make it to the center, and then I see her.
She has her arms wrapped around, presumably, Tim’s neck, spinning in a slow circle. I let out a heavy sigh of relief.
“Thank you for helping me.” I turn to Levi to find he has his hand out to me.
“Dance with me?” he says, loud enough for me to hear, eyes glistening.
“Okay.”
We both take a half a step forward, his hand curling around my lower back, pulling me into him.
My insides are screaming at touching him, feeling his warmth.
I slide one hand up the hard plane of his chest until it comes to rest on a broad shoulder.
The other hand meets his, locking together.
He leads in slow rhythmic circles. I let my head rest on his chest. The sound of his heart and the beat of the music are a perfect melody.
“I missed this,” my body hums.
He responds in a tight squeeze around me, “Me too.” It says.
The song changes to “It’s Five O’clock Somewhere” and so does the nature of the dance. I pull back to check the time. It’s 9 p.m.
“We had better go soon...” I look over at Callie, who doesn’t look in a hurry to leave.
“Can we do one more thing? It won’t take long.”
One of my eyebrows raises at him in response. “What is it?”
“A karaoke bar called Ms. Debbie’s. Come on, it’s not too far. It will be fun,” he assures me with a smile. A smile that’s more than just what I can see, I feel it. It seeps deep into my bones and breathes life into what I didn’t know was dead.
“Okay, as long as Callie wants to.”
He tips his chin up, bites his bottom lip, and lets out a loud whistle. Tim’s head shoots up. He flicks his head back, as if to say come here.
“Where’d you learn to do that?” I ask, still holding onto his side.
“Baseball,” he says, one side of his mouth hooking upward. “Tim and I played on the same team in high school. He’s really good. Now he runs my landscaping business and takes care of my mom’s yard while I’m away.”
My sister jumps on me with an unexpected hug. I take a few steps back and Levi’s arm reaches out to stabilize me.
“Okay, Tim is like so hot and so nice.” My sister’s hot breaths tickle my ear and I laugh.
––––––––
“This is not what I expected,” I tell him as we fill the doorway.
Located in the historic district of Printer’s Alley, Ms. Debbie’s could easily be missed, with just a small blade sign bearing its name.
Inside is much like the outside with its classic dive-bar charm.
Gone is the commercial lacquer of pretension, and in its place, wooden barstools, neon signs, and a big stage that says $5 A Song.
“I know. It’s great, right?” he says, taking the lead and guiding us towards a tall table at the front. Callie and Tim have been stuck together, giggling like they’re at the back of a school bus, since we left.
“Beer?” He pins Tim down with fixed eyes, who manages to pull himself from Callie.
“Yeah, but I’ll get it.” Tim stands up. “Callie, Tate, can I get either of you a drink?”
“Tate doesn’t drink, but I’ll have whatever you get,” my sister says, responding for both of us. I tell my eyes to take their judgey look elsewhere, but it must not have worked because after the boys leave, she shoots me an annoyed look and a “What?”
“I didn’t say anything,” I say, smoothing out my dress.
It’s a multicolored, long-sleeved bodycon dress with ruching down the front and back.
Flirty and fun. I chance a look over at Levi and Tim.
Levi’s elbows are resting on the bar. He laughs at something, and I can’t help but think that sound is what I’ve been missing.
“It’s just one drink, Sis.” Callie leans forward, putting her arms on either side of my shoulders. “Stop worrying.”
“I’m relaxed!” I lie. “So, you like Tim?”
A crimson blush rushes to fill her cheeks and neck. “He’s—”
“Right behind you,” Tim completes her sentence, coming from behind me, sliding into the seat beside her again. Levi does the same, pulling the chair out to sit by me. He slides a glass in front of me.
“What is it?” I ask, examining the fizzy orange liquid.
“So, I take it you don’t like surprises?”
“In a bar, in the form of a drink, no. A party, present, or adventure, yes.”
He laughs. “Noted. It’s bubble water with orange juice and a mint leaf. If you want me to drink it first...”
“Don’t be silly. That sounds great.” I press the drink to my lips. The fizz, the tang, the slap of mint. “This is actually really good,” I tell him and watch as he rolls his eyes, teasingly.
“Actually?”
“The mint threw me off, I have to admit.”
“Mint makes everything better.”
“I think I read that somewhere.” I laugh, motioning to cheers with him, but he doesn’t have a drink.
“You’re not drinking?”
“I’m not. Haven’t been. Not that I won’t, but yeah.”
I nod slowly, not knowing what to make of it.
“So, when are you two going up there?” Callie says, reminding me of her existence again.
“Oh, I—”
“Now.” Levi stands, offering me a hand up. I take another sip of my drink before placing my hand in his.
The bar is full, but in no way as crowded as Chiefs.
Left of the stage, Levi stops in front of a decrepit binder filled with plastic sleeves to the point of breaking its bind.
He starts flipping rapidly, like he’s looking for something.
Then he stops, his finger hovering over one song.
It’s “Cowboy Take Me Away” by The Chicks.
“Let’s do it!” I say excitedly, bouncing in place.
Levi hands the man at the corner of the stage five dollars, and we make our way to its center.
We’re the first act of the night, and I think both the bar patrons and I don’t know what happens next, but then the light dims. Levi plucks the mic from its stand and positions himself near me.
A TV monitor as old as I am clicks to life above us counting us in.
Levi starts and I can’t help but teeter between then and now.
There’s no camera this time, no pressure to win or be anything other than what we are.
He’s on the last line of his verse, getting closer and closer to me, until the only thing between our lips is the microphone.
I take it in a seamless transfer, walking back, keeping an arm’s length.
When we come together for the end of the song, I feel every word as if I wrote it.
As if it were our song. We don’t get to sing the last line because before it finishes, I barrel into him, lips crashing, microphone dropping to the floor in an amplified BOOM.
He feels it too. The universal pull of our bodies.
One hand is pulling on my lower back, keeping my body flush with his, the other is skating through my hair, and for a minute there’s a release.
An outlet for the pent-up want and frustration.
Followed by a standing ovation, and...are those camera flashes?
He and I register it at the same time, scanning the crowd. Sure enough, paparazzi.
“Okay, to the left of the stage is a hallway with bathrooms. I’m going to grab Tim and Callie and meet you there.”
“Okay.” My voice is winded as we both make our way off stage, separating at the bottom.
The hallway is like every murder scene I have ever watched.
A light flickers unsteadily above, shadows cross the walls, and there’s a weird, dank smell of sitting water, which would ultimately lead to a rotting corpse if it were a movie.
I lean against the walls, doing my best to stop my nervous movements, when I hear the sound of footsteps approaching.
I look up, hopeful it’s Levi with my sister, but it’s a middle-aged man.
I smile politely and go back to staring at my feet.
“That was a great performance,” he says, stopping in front of me.
“Oh, thank you. That’s so nice.”
“Yeah, I never thought I would be able to see it live.”
Okay, so he’s seen the show. Don’t react.
“Though...he’s dating that Gabriella now, ain’t he?”
“Yeah, I guess he is.” I look back down that hall. Where is Levi?
“Do you normally go around kissing other people’s boyfriends?”
I cough a laugh. “Do you normally corner women in hallways before asking them personal questions?”
His smile slips to a full tilt. “I do, actually. I’m a reporter for The Sun. I like to get to the truth, and you, my dear, are full of lies.”
“Lies?!” I repeat back.
“Lies, yes. That’s what it’s called when you pretend to be something you’re not.”
“Excuse me.” I come off the wall, rolling my shoulders back.
“I am 100 percent myself, so unless you have something specific you want to talk to me about, you need to back up and let me be.” I can tell my forwardness shocks him because he rears back ever so slightly.
People have a misconception about “nice people.” I am a nice person, but I also know who I am, and I won’t stand here and be told differently.
“You know what I mean. The whole nice, Southern girl act. Drops out, hates Hollywood.”
“Never said that.”
“Comes home for a couple weeks and then comes up here and gets signed by the biggest Christian label in the country.”
“What’s your point?”
“My point, Tate, is I don’t know how your new label is going to feel about the press coming out with pictures of you locking lips with someone else’s boyfriend.”
My stomach drops, and he must see it because he laughs before finally walking towards the men’s room. He presses the swinging door, and before I can stop myself...
“They broke up. We’re together. Print that.”
He tips his head in a nod towards me before disappearing into the bathroom as soon as Levi, Callie, and Tim appear.
“Hey, sorry it took so long. The manager wanted an autograph for the wall.”
I laugh but it’s someone else’s. Levi squints at me. “You good?”
“Mm-hmm. Just ready to go.”