Page 178 of Deliverance

“He has my number if you need to reach me or whatever.”

“Thanks.” She climbs into the driver's seat. Seconds later, the engine roars to life.

I wait until the SUV exits the parking lot, my heart fluttering in my chest from the realization that I finally understand whatIwant and whatIneed to do.

27 Zander

My nerves are completely flayedthe morning of Valentine's Day.

I don’t actually do Valentine’s Day, but with Drew, all these holidays have taken on a different meaning. I don’t want to miss a single second, especially with her leaving for New York at the end of the month, where she’s already set up a meeting with Santiago right before he takes off for Europe and her own tour kicks in.

I almost feel left behind and it makes me uneasy.

Truth is, I’ve been on pins and needles ever since Leo’s meltdown at the studio. Two days after the incident that required Athena’s involvement, RYR issued a statement about rescheduling the release of the upcoming Bleeding Faith album due to the fact that the lead singer checked himself into rehab.

“Shit luck,” Ian said to me on the phone after the news broke.

I’m not a violent person, but at that moment, I seriously wanted to punch him in the face for being an insensitive asshole. The only reason it didn’t happen was because he wasn’t in the same room with me.

Then a week later, after things settled a little, I called Toby to get an update. Apparently, Leo was staying in one of those places that allowed internet and visitors. So I drove to the facility and spent a good couple of hours there with him, staring at the mountains and the palm trees and talking about the benefits of being in touch with your inner Zen. He looked better. More coherent. With a spark in his eyes.

“I know I fucked up, dude.” He gave me one of those self-deprecating smiles. “I got an email from Sienna the other day and I don’t know what to tell her.”

“Don’t tell her anything yet,” I said. “Get your shit together and record the cover the way it should be recorded.”

“That’s the plan.”

“And I’ll be there for you whenever you’re ready, all right?”

He was still grinning when I left him there on that bench. Seeing him in his right mind made me feel better about my own promises, the ones I made to Drew about getting Zero Ecstasy some real airplay.

But as the cool February morning rolls in and the sun starts its climb through the California sky while I’m getting ready to surf before Drew arrives, my doubts resurge.

You’re rushing it. You’re rushing it. You’re rushing it.

It’s a soft whisper at the back of my head—nagging and constant—telling me to hold on just a little longer, to give it time,to give Drew time. Because we’re still new and everything around us is unsteady and terrifying.

And the sane part of me almost wins when two hours later, I steer the Lexus into a parking spot I reserved for the day near Dana Point yacht rentals. I sit behind the wheel, knuckles white, and stare at the glove compartment, rethinking my decision. Then I step out of the car, lock it, shove the keys into the pocket of my leather jacket, and get an Uber back to Laguna.

When the slick SUV pulls up to my house, I note Drew’s silhouette lingering on the terrace. She’s talking on the phone, her face animated, which means it’s definitely not Tina, because talks with Tina Bandini usually result in pensive expressions. The woman is a genius, but she’s no fun whatsoever, except for that one time she dressed up as a sexy pilot. I wonder what Dom sees in her? Or rather, I wonder why she doesn’t show her human side to anyone but him. Although I can understand why they’d click. Both working highly stressful jobs that entail manag—babysittingcreatives. They must get off on talking about organizers and productivity apps.

I laugh inaudibly as the imagery slides into my head and, thanking the driver, I jump out of the vehicle.

Seeing me approach, Drew quickly says something into the phone, then ends the call and rushes over. We crash into each other in the middle of my front yard. I pick her up and spin her, smelling coffee and fruit and incense. I haven’t done a relationship and a V Day present since high school, I think, and it makes my adrenaline spike and roar.

“Happy Valentine’s Day,” she whispers in my ear after her squeal dies.

I let her down to her feet. “Happy Valentine’s Day.”

She grabs my hand and pulls me into the house. “I can’t wait. I have to give you your present before we leave.” Fire enters her eyes. She tosses her phone on the table and disappears upstairs. Moments later, her voice carries over from my bedroom. Or our bedroom since she’s marked every square inch of it by now. Her things are all over my house. Rolls of paper and paint. Toothbrush and blow dryer. HugeDibs On The Drummercoffee mugthat she ordered online. A collection of brushes. And, strangely, all these items fit in here. As if both the house and I have been waiting for Drew to come and infuse life into us.

My palms suddenly feel damp and my hands shake a little.

What if I fuck it up?

What if what we have is more than enough for her?

“Do you want your present or not?” she repeats as I hop up the stairs and find her standing in front of the window, facing me, hands locked behind her back, probably hiding whatever it is she’s about to give me.

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