Page 30 of Another Postcard

He gestured to the couch and I slipped off my Chucks before dragging my feet through the plush cream carpet as I walked over. I flopped down and leaned into a stack of pillows, sighing as I relaxed. Damn. I forgot how fucking exhausted I was. The comfy furniture and soothing atmosphere were quickly reminding me and making me drowsy.

“Hey,” Levi grumbled as he sat. He set the folder on the opposite side of him before he snatched my hand and yanked me over to him. Lifting me up slightly, he plopped me down onto his lap. “You can sleep later. We aren’t going to have sex”—he paused with a salacious grin—“unless you really, really want to…Otherwise I think maybe we should talk, yeah?”

I started to agree but had to stop when a big yawn overtook me. “Sorry,” I said with a sheepish smile. He chuckled and looped an arm around my waist while the other played with my ponytail. His eyes stayed on mine, suddenly serious.

“I have something for you.” He let go of my hair and picked up the folder, removing a sheaf of papers. He sighed dramatically. “To be fair, it’s also from Noah. I can’t believe I actually let that bastard guilt me into saying that when he wouldn’t have known either way,” he grumbled.

“Okay…” I trailed off, confused but smiling at how damn cute he was. I took the proffered papers. My mouth opened and closed like a fish as I scanned them, not sure what to say. “Sheryl is quitting permanently?” I clarified first.

He nodded. “We don’t want your time with Stone Butterfly to be temporary, baby. The label has signed off on it and every member of the band is hoping you’ll say yes. We want you to take her spot. Sort of.”

“Sort of?”

“Read the contract, Brooklynn. You will be as much a part of the group as Sasha, Simon, Matteo, and me. This isn’t for a backup singer, it’s for another partner. Sasha suggested we also ask you to take over the piano on certain songs so she can add in additional instruments. In fact, we want to eventually hireyourreplacement. As a backup singer.”

I sputtered a stream of unintelligible gibberish. “Um, I don’t—”

“First,” he cut me off. “Kristi was as much on board with this as anyone, she likes her smaller role in the group. It gives her the freedom to step back if she needs to. Did you know she and Jonas have been trying to have kids?”

I nodded, she’d shared their struggles trying to get pregnant with me.

“When it finally happens for them, she’ll be in the same position as Sheryl. She isn’t sure if she wants to continue traveling or dealing with the hard schedule the label puts on us when we are promoting a new album.”

“This is, um, amazing, Levi. I’m not sure how to comprehend it right now”—I tried to move off of his lap but he caged me in with both arms around me—“but, if I’m going to accept, I think it’s best we keep our relationship pro—”

“Bullshit, Brooklynn.” Levi’s hard tone ripped right through my words, his thunderous expression slicing through my heart. “I’m not going to let you use this to push me away again.”

Pleading, I tried to make him understand my perspective. “I’m not pushing you away, Levi. It was one thing to give this a try when we had an expiration date because of the temporary contract. But, this means giving everything up for a permanent change to my way of life. One I’m excited to make. Except it means if things don’t work with us, I have everything to lose. Everything.”

He snatched the contract, flipping to a specific page and stabbing at a section. I read it and the heaviness on my shoulders from the weeks of tension and stress between us, from my worry and fear, all of the rocks on my chest, it all lifted away.

“The only way to fire you is the same way it is for any of us. The studio, band, and manager make the call together, with the reasons clearly cited, or your lawyer will kick all of our asses. And”—he lifted my chin so I could see the same lightness I felt reflected in his aquamarine pools—“I, specifically, have no vote. Unless it’s to keep you around. Then I have all the votes.” He finished with a lopsided smile.

I set the papers down beside us and cupped his face between my palms. “Levi?”

“What, baby.”

“Will you have dinner with me tomorrow night?”

18

Levi

Ithrewdown a couple of poker chips and raised the bet. Simon, Noah, Matteo, and Cameron all eyed me with varying degrees of suspicion. They could look all they wanted, I had a stone-cold poker face. A good thing since I had a shit hand. My eyes wandered over to where Brooklynn and Sasha were sitting in the larger living area of the bus. Sasha was on the floor with her guitar, and Brooklynn was perched on the couch with pencil and paper. They were lost in the music, composing something new that they hadn’t shared with the rest of us yet. Brooklynn hummed a few notes, then Sasha said something that made her laugh. I expected the thrill it caused to race through my body, but that didn’t make it any less effective. She was beautiful all the time, but when she laughed, she was fucking magnificent.

It had been one of the hardest things I’d ever done in my life. Letting go of her last night, walking her back to her room, and leaving her with a chaste, goodnight kiss. After six weeks of wanting, with my feelings only growing stronger each day, I wasn’t sure how long it would be before I snapped, threw her over my shoulder, and carted her off to the nearest empty room where I could seduce her.

After she asked me to dinner and I enthusiastically agreed, I kissed her and it quickly grew passionate. But, we were both aware of the boundaries for that night, at least on some level. She’d only just agreed to dinner, taking her to bed would have pushed her too far. Instead, we made out like teenagers for an hour, then said goodnight.

Checkout in the morning had been at eleven and by noon, we were on the road in the buses, headed to Pittsburgh. With traffic, we’d probably roll in around ten PM. We were spending two nights in Pittsburg before a crazy stretch of concerts practically piled on top of each other, which meant a lot of time spent on the buses, and no hotels because we’d be driving through the night.

It would be late, but unless I wanted to take Brooklynn out after our concert the next day, this was our only opportunity to have some relaxed, un-rushed time together. We didn’t need to be at The Vogue until four and could catch up on sleep in the morning.

Eventually, everyone grew hungry and Matteo, whose second passion in life was cooking, made dinner for everyone. We sat around the oval table on the U-shaped bench seat and talked about nothing in particular while moaning in delight over the delicious food. The buses came to a halt as we were finishing and the door swung open. Erin, one of our tour PAs, came in with a bag and manila folder. Incidentally, our other PA had the same name, except he was a guy and spelled it Aaron. So, we just called him 2.0.

“Erin!” we chorused. She was always a bundle of happiness and humor. She grinned and waved.

“Hey, Erin,” Noah greeted. “Mail?”

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