Page 82 of Wish You Would

It wasn’t my dream.

My heart both sang and sank, depending on the day, the hour, the minute. Because, oh, I wanted to listen. I wanted to tell the band I was in. I wanted to chase the high of performing, breathe in the melodies, feel the crash of the music on my skin.

I wanted, I wanted, I wanted.

I wanted Parker, too.

My sweet Parker, who had knocked me so off course no map would right my ship. And I loved it. I loved her.

Fuck, I loved her.

I had so much good right at my fingertips. So much happy. All I had to do was grab it.

“Check, check.”

I jumped, Ryan’s voice in the mic yanking me from my thoughts. Reaching for another glass, I watched as he tested the volume with a couple bars of “Closing Time”. Halle gave him a thumbs up, and he moved on to tuning his guitar. My fingers could almost feel the strings as he strummed.

If I thought long enough about it, I could see the trajectory of my life if I said yes to this thing I wanted so badly. I’d join the band for their local gigs, then on their summer tour around the Midwest. I’d be home less and less, be at the bar less and less. My relationships—the ones I’d worked so hard to cultivate since coming home—would suffer. Vaughn and I would grow apart again, he’d begin to resent me as he was forced to step back into his role at Heathcliff’s. We’d go right back to where we were before: him being the responsible big brother, shouldering the burden while his flighty kid sister traipsed around the world.

I couldn’t do that to him. Not again.

Reaching for a new glass, I forced myself to look away from the stage.

Then there was Parker. This new relationship that had knocked my whole world off its axis, in the best way. She was kind and smart and surprising. In a matter of months, she’d burrowed so deeply into my heart that removing her would likely require open-heart surgery. Even then, I wasn’t sure I’d make it out alive.

She wanted the band for me, too. She and Vaughn had that in common. But neither knew what it meant to say yes. Not really. They didn’t have a selfish bone between them. So, of course, they wanted me to do what made me happy.

But I’d done it before. And I hurt the ones I loved most in the entire world. One of whom I’d never get to apologize to. I couldn’t do it again. I couldn’t let myself get wrapped up in this thing that sucked me in, that fed my soul, that blinded me to all else.

I couldn’t risk it.

“I think the spots are gone.”

I glared at my brother, who’d snuck up on me quieter than a man his size had any right to be. “I don’t know,” I said, reaching for another glass. “I think I missed a few.”

Vaughn grunted. From the corner of my eye, I saw him fold his arms over his chest, and I waited. I’d had enough of these big brother talks over the years to know what was coming. Especially since I’d just had one. He hadn’t so much as mentioned it since then, but I knew my luck had run out.

Heart thumping painfully in my chest, I put down the towel I’d been using and brushed my hands over my jeans. Vaughn was right: the glasses were good.

“I think I’m gonna go do the schedule,” I said, stepping around him.

He pivoted into my path. “I can hear your brain whirring,” he said. “What’re you thinking?”

I peered around him, eyeing the employees-only door like it was the gates of heaven. “Nothing.” I started forward, only to be blocked by him again. “I have a lot to do.”

“Bullshit.” His dark eyes glared down at me. “You’ve got the schedules done three weeks out. Payroll was done yesterday. You’ve inventoried so thoroughly, I wouldn’t be surprised if you could tell me how many maraschino cherries are in each jar.”

“Fifty-seven, roughly,” I mumbled, shoving my hands into my pockets.

He snorted, but didn’t give any ground. “I’ve been giving you space to mull over our conversation,” he said, softening his tone. “And to…do whatever you’re doing with Parker.” This was said with an awkward glance over my shoulder, as if he couldn’t look me in the eye while talking about said whatever.

It was my turn to snort. He didn’t look amused.

“I’ve thought about it,” I said. “And I’m good. Right here.”

He dragged his eyes back to me, searching my face before speaking. I held steady, not allowing anything to peek through. I’m fine, I thought. I’m fine, I’m fine, I’m fine.

“Look,” he finally said. “I’m not trying to push you into anything you don’t want to do. If you truly want to run this place, I’ll leave you to it. I mean, you’re doing a damn good job, so no complaints there.” His brow lifted as he leveled me with a glare. “But I can’t take your word for it. Your word is bullshit.”

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