He slows long enough to give me a questioning glance. “You’ve always known Dallas wanted to go to Nashville. Is that scaring you now that it seems like a real possibility?”
I shake my head. “No. I’m thrilled about that. This is my dream, too, you know. I might not pursue it as aggressively as my brother, but it is.”
Gavin nods. “I get that. It’s mine, too, I guess. I just never thought of it as a dream—more like the only thing I’m good at.”
“That’s not true,” I tell him quietly.
He shrugs. “Not all changes are good, Bluebird. You want to rethink the whole one-night thing?”
Hell no.
“Do you?”
He stares straight ahead, his profile revealing nothing as we walk. He doesn’t speak again until I feel like I’m going to scream. The tension strung tightly between us feels like it’s wrapping around my neck.
“I agreed to it. So I’d think the answer to that would be obvious.”
The relief whooshes through me and I can’t contain my smile.
He cuts his eyes to me and grins. “I’m almost nervous when you look at me like that. What have you got in store for me, little Bluebird? Some Fifty Shades fantasy you can’t wait to play out with a willing participant?”
My heart quickens its pace at his naughty suggestion. “Gavin Garrison, have you been reading mommy porn?”
He chuckles and holds the door open for me. I walk inside the vibrantly colored and brightly lit ice cream parlor and glance over my shoulder at him. Part of me feels like every moment with him is a dream, something I’m lying in bed alone and imagining, instead of an experience I’m actually living.
Holding fire, I realize as we get in line. This is my brief time to hold the flames that will destroy me, burn me to ash, and scatter my soul in the wind. It’s that split second when the heat first hits, mercifully numbing the nerves before they alert the brain to the pain.
Several high-school-aged girls in front of us suddenly can’t concentrate on the flavors before them. They’re too busy giggling and glancing back at Gavin. He’s tall, dark, and still slightly sweat soaked from performing. His eyes are bright under the lights and his ink is alive with each movement of his arms. I can’t blame them. I look up at him and he doesn’t even notice. His eyes are focused on the display of flavors.
My mind slips back in time to the first time we had ice cream together. It was Gavin’s first time to ever have it and he swore it was heaven in his mouth. I’d bought it from the ice cream truck with change I’d saved up from my lunch money and shared with him. His eyes had closed and I’d fallen in love with him a little more that day. The boy who knew and understood the importance of savoring something sweet—because pleasure like that was rare—the same way that I did. My heart had broken wide open knowing that he’d lived twelve years and no one had ever given him ice cream. He’d moved into that broken place in my heart and remained there ever since.
“If I get sweet cream and strawberry, will you get—”
“Yeah, yeah,” he says. “You know I will.”
Gavin places a hand on the small of my back, and I’m smiling so hard at the guy taking our order he probably thinks I live for ice cream. Or I need to lower my dose.
We order and pay and walk out into the street with our desserts. I take a bite and sigh as the cool sweetness melts on my tongue and slides down my throat.
“So do you think Mandy will make an official offer?”
Gavin swallows his ice cream. “Seems like a distinct possibility.”
“Seems like an awfully big risk.”
Gavin gives me a questioning look and I hear what he doesn’t say. I’ve been an advocate of risks lately.
“Forget it,” I mutter, digging back into my two scoops. We come to a crosswalk and wait for the signal to change.
“No, I hear you. Any decisions we make that affect the band will affect all of us. Life is one big risk. You can’t really avoid them. No matter how hard you try.”