I move closer, placing a hand on his forearm. “Like?”
“Like they don’t care what my sexual orientation is, or who I date, or what I decide to do with my life. She said, ‘In your heart, you’re our son, and that’s the only thing that matters. That’s the only thing that should’ve mattered.’” Emotion gathers in my chest and I touch my fingertips to my throat. “You’re not going to cry on me now, are you? I don’t think I can handle any more tears.”
I shake my head. “No. I’m just… happy. Everything is changing.”
“It is.” Troy smiles at me with a lightness I haven’t seen in him for years. “And we can change with it, Ems. We can choose forgiveness.”
Avery comes back then, my mind stuck on his last few words. She pauses, inspecting my face. “Now what?”
My eyes briefly land on Troy before wandering to the calendar on the wall. The word Tuesday in big block letters glares at me. “What, is that we’re going out.” Troy and Avery’s gaze burns up the side of my cheek as I position the flowers in the center of the table.
“Care to tell us where we’re going exactly?” Avery latches onto Troy’s arm and hauls him to his feet.
“We’re going to Blue Monday.” My stomach flutters and I glance down at my clothing, thankful I changed out of my dress before I met up with Grant. I don’t want to waste any more time.
“What’s Blue Monday?” Troy asks as I shuffle them out the door.
Where I’ll find my heart.
THE CAB DRIVER speeds through the streets of New York, weaving and bobbing around cars and buses, nearly hitting a few pedestrians. Normally, my heart would be in my throat. But not tonight. Tonight the clouds carry me. Anticipation, not fear, fills me, reminding me of something Zack used to say before he’d go off on one of his crazy adventures. ‘Em, it’s always the three A’s—Anticipation, Adrenaline, Adventure.’” I feel like that right now. As if I’m about to embark on a new adventure, setting my life on a different course—one that certainly wouldn’t be the same without Vance Davenport in it. I know that now. I think I’ve always known that.
“Jesus,” Troy mutters as we exit the taxi. “Every time I visit you, I remember how you seriously take your life into your hands in those things. I’d prefer to walk next time and keep my balls intact.”
“Ha.” Avery barks out a laugh, glancing up at the neon blue sign. “So are you going to tell us what we’re doing at Blue Monday on a Tuesday?”
“Ba da bum,” Troy adds in and Avery pokes him.
We link elbows, making our way into the bar. We’re barely in the door when I hear Vance’s voice. It floats around us and a rush of goose bumps cascade down my arms. My eyes drift toward the sound, pulse picking up when I catch my first glimpse of him on stage. His eyes are closed, lips parted, deft fingers that left a mark on my skin strumming the guitar. He sends the lyrics into the air and I have to steady myself with a deep breath. He looks beautiful like that, as if he is one with the music.
“And I didn’t know about this, why?” Avery stares me down, clearly as affected by his performance as I am. Well, not quite.
“Ditto, and holy shit.” Troy echoes my sister as they gang up against me… again. Round aqua lights hanging overhead drape the bar and their smug faces in a shadowy blue haze.
“It’s not like I’ve been holding back. I just found out myself.”
Mesmerized, our attention travels to the band. Next to Vance, Chris plays a pretty impressive bass guitar. Toward the back, another guy plays keyboard and someone else is on drums.
Mainly though, my gaze is glued to Vance. The way his upper body sways to the music, his soul on display. My spine tingles with tiny jolts of electricity. As if he knows, he opens his eyes. Somehow in the near darkness, I sense he spotted me—because a grin sweeps clear across his face, spreading warmth over my skin like a blanket. I smile right back, my lips not leaving me any other choice. That’s the only thing they want to do when he’s around.
“We’re gonna go get some drinks,” Avery shouts. “What do you want?”
“Huh?” I snap out of my daze. “Oh, just a glass of wine.”
She grimaces like I didn’t quite understand her question. “This isn’t a wine kind of a place, Em. I’ll get you something else.”
As soon as they walk away, my attention goes back to the stage. I might not read books, but I’ve watched enough movies to know this feels a lot like one of those scenes—where two people catch each other’s eyes across the room—where everything around them disappears and all that exists is a crazy, out of control heartbeat that makes you want to run into their arms.
Fortunately, the song comes to a close. Vance sets his guitar down, stepping off the stage and stalking toward me. People clap him on the back and utter various praises but his eyes never leave mine. My cheeks feel flush, body overheating from the attention.