After loading all of our equipment into the van, I take one last look at Austin. The bright lights glowing against the night. I breathe in rain-drenched air and look at the turbulent sky. Heat lightning dances across the blackness like strobe lights in a club.
Things are on the verge of changing irrevocably. I can feel it with everything I am. We have a manager now, a showcase tomorrow night, and who knows what will come after.
My hand slides against Gavin’s as he takes Oz’s case from me and places him gently inside the back of the van. That same spark, the one I’ve felt since we were kids, since the first time his hand touched mine, snakes up my arm and down my spine. Our gazes finally meet on the collision course I feel like we’ve been on forever. There’s a flicker, a brief flash in his eyes like he’s going to say something, but he looks away.
I want to ask him—no, I want to demand that he tell me if he’s coming to my room tonight or not. But Dallas is still going on and on about meeting up with Mandy.
“Hey, Dix, you look pretty beat. Why don’t you sit this one out?”
“Um,” I begin, unsure as to whether I should go or just head to the hotel. I wish I could say that Dallas needs to let Gavin get some sleep, because he’s had even less than I have, but I can’t. So I just lift one shoulder noncommittally. “Okay. I can take a cab or—”
“Naw, we’ll take one from the hotel. I want to make sure you get safely to your room before we head out.” Dallas smiles warmly at me and my heart swells a little in my chest. I love my brother, overprotective ass and all. But I really wish he wasn’t dragging Gavin out on the town tonight. “And I’m going to set half a dozen alarms on your phone.”
“Well . . . thanks, I guess.”
Once we’re in the van, Dallas in the driver’s seat and Gavin beside him while I sit in the back, my brother details our agenda for the next twenty-four hours.
“So it’s a twelve-hour drive to Nashville tomorrow. The showcase runs through Monday but all Mandy can get us is a nine o’clock slot tomorrow night. There was a last-minute cancellation. If we leave at six we’ll have plenty of time even with traffic. Sucks that we don’t have a demo to hand out but I have that recording you made us, Gavin. The one with ‘Whiskey Redemption’ and the encore medley on it.”
I take it all in, feeling wearier with each word, as if they’re weights my brother is handing me to hold.
“I have a cleaner copy on the laptop. Want me to burn another one and bring it tonight?”
My eyes trace Gavin’s profile while he and Dallas hash out the details. Even exhausted, he’s beautiful. And he’s going out tonight. Out out from the sounds of it.
“Nah. We might be out late tonight so just do it tomorrow on the way to Nashville.”
The word “late” pulls me from my greedy perusal of Gavin’s face. They’re going out and staying out. Dallas says something about sleeping in shifts and taking turns driving Emmylou to Nashville, but I’m still distracted by what they’re doing tonight.
The entire ride to the hotel I’m waiting. Waiting for Gavin to say he doesn’t want to go out, that he’s tired, or has other plans. Something. But he just keeps up the conversation with Dallas about rearranging a few songs and suggestions for tomorrow night as if I’m not even here.
Somehow in the four blocks to the hotel, anger has ignited inside of me and I’m fiercely pissed-off by the time we pull into the parking lot. Exhaustion has given way to frustration and I’m not even sure what exactly I’m so upset over—the cryptic comment he made about not wanting an out or the fact that I know he might meet someone else while out with my brother.
Dallas pulls into a parking spot and we all shuffle out of the van. Gavin leans against it and I force myself not to even look at him.
“I’m fine, Dallas. You were right. I’m beat. I’m just going to head in and crash. No need to walk me. I’m a big girl.”
“You sure?” My brother pulls out his phone, to dial a cab I assume.
“Yep. I’m good. Just tired.”