Page 97 of Wish You Would

39 GIGI

STAY (I MISSED YOU)

“Damn,” Ryan said, peering out from behind the curtain. “Full house tonight.”

I joined him, chin resting on his shoulder. My eyes widened as I took in hundreds upon hundreds of bodies, milling around as they awaited the start of the show.

We were backstage at The Ledge, in a corner designated as our dressing room. The closer we got to go time, the louder it got out there. Finally, Ryan had given into his curiosity and taken a peek.

I kinda wished I hadn’t followed suit.

We’d performed to sold out clubs before. Packed bars like Heathcliff’s multiple times since I’d joined the band. But The Ledge was a designated concert space, wide open and waiting to be filled with people. When we rehearsed earlier, I thought there was no way it’d fill up. But we were still forty minutes out from showtime, and the place was packed.

“Holy shit,” I breathed.

Halle joined us, leaning over me to get a peek. She let out a low whistle. I glanced behind me and caught her eye. She smirked, eyes twinkling. “Nervous now?”

I reached back and poked her in the pit. She screeched and jerked away. I laughed as I answered her. “Not a chance.”

It was a lie. Kind of. My stomach fluttered like it was full of tiny, backflipping ninjas. Exhaling through pursed lips, I began to pace. Halle leaned against the wall and watched, arms folded across her teensy tee, and smirked.

“Shut up,” I grumbled. She smirked wider. Flipping her off, I continued my pacing.

The five of us had settled into an easy dynamic over the last few weeks. It helped that I’d known these guys prior to joining the band, but more than that, they were good people. Raucous and annoying at times, but good people. Singing with them every weekend, hanging out after rehearsals throughout the week, had soothed parts of me I didn’t know needed soothing.

Hell, I was even almost happy.

But what was that saying about almost? It only counted in horseshoes and not being a dumbass?

The thought threw off the rhythm of my pacing. I looked around to see if anyone had noticed the way I tripped over my own damn feet, and breathed a sigh of relief when I saw everyone lost in their own pre-show jitters. Halle was retying the bandana on her head for the seventh or eighth time. Tommy was doing push-ups while Olsen sat on his back, and Ryan was checking out how his biceps looked in his muscle tee.

Wiping my hands over my overalls, I crossed the room, grabbing my phone. Vaughn and Anya were coming tonight. Luke, too. Should probably make sure they got in all right. Should probably—

Everything skidded to a stop when I read the name on my screen. My heart lurched to a halt, my breath froze, my brain glitched. I stared at my phone for so long the screen went dark, and then I tapped it frantically, afraid I’d imagined things, that the darkness would eat her words. The relief that rushed through me when her name was still there about dropped me to my knees.

Fumbling behind me, I blindly located a chair and I sat. Then, heart in throat, I cradled my phone in both hands. Right now, in this moment, I was in between. Nestled into the gap of not knowing and knowing. Where it was safe. Once I opened the text, once I read her words…

My mind raced with what ifs and maybes. What if it was an I miss you text? An I messed up, and I want you back text? Or, maybe it was the opposite. Maybe she’d taken all this time to think and had arrived at the conclusion that what we’d had was all a big mistake. Maybe she regretted it. Regretted me.

Or—

“Oh, for fuck’s sake, Gigi, what does it say?”

I looked up to find everyone watching me. Frowning, I looked from face to face, each one more curious than the last, until I landed on Halle. She’d been the one to crash through my spiral with her question. Her stare was unflinching. “Well?”

“I…don’t know what you’re talking about.” I put my phone face-down on my thigh and straightened. “It’s just my brother saying—”

“Oh, you’re so full of shit.” Halle shoved away from the wall and stomped over to me. “Your face went from Casper to Sebastian the lobster, then back again. That was not your brother.”

“Crab,” I said, staring hard at the back of my phone, wiping at the fingerprints on its plastic case.

“What?”

Looking up, I repeated it. “Crab. Sebastian is a Crab.”

Halle rolled her eyes. “My point stands.”

My grip tightened on my phone. I shrugged. “I don’t know.”

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