Page 109 of Sounds Like Love

“You came in too early on the chorus.”

I gasped, shocked. “Didnot!”

He shrugged lazily. “So you say.” But then he grinned, moving close to me, and whispered in that gravelly voice that made me tingle all over, “It almost felt like you were in my head again, bird.”

“Maybe I was.”

And his grin widened, reaching up into his eyes. Even without our connection, I liked this. I liked the sound of us.

Mitch asked, “So … you two still taking requests? How about something not so sappy?”

Sasha quirked an eyebrow. “One song’s my limit, sadly, because you can’t afford me.”

Mom barked a laugh, clapping her hands together in delight, while Gigi consoled her partner with a pat on the shoulder.

Suddenly, the lights flickered back on. One by one, they popped alight, rushing across the venue to the bar, and then beyond. The jukebox came to life in the corner, and picked up exactly where it left off in the middle of Bruce Springsteen’s “Born to Run.”

As everyone dispersed, Sasha and I sat on the bench in silence. And for a moment I was afraid that wall would build itself back up, that the silence between us would harden and—

Quietly, he bent in to me, like a flower toward the sun, and pressed his forehead against mine. He closed his eyes.

I did, too.

And there it was—that warmth I’d always felt with him in my head. That presence. That comfort. I couldn’t hear his thoughts any longer, but maybe a little bit of that magic lingered.

“Don’t push me away,” he whispered, so softly only I could hear. “Don’t tell me to go. Not when you just asked me to stay.”

He was right. I had been so lost in the panic of our disconnection, I didn’t realize. The swirl of emotions, the intrusion of my “real” life back in LA, the incoming hurricane and my responsibility to the Rev. “I didn’t want you caught in the storm.”

The one we stood in the eye of now, and the proverbial one just out at sea, coming closer, gaining speed. One that would last for years. Dementia was called the long goodbye. It would be a long storm, too.

“I can weather storms, bird—Iwantto weather them. With you. Beside you. So we don’t have to do it alone.” He hadn’t lost trust in me, in our connection … I had.

Tears sprang to my eyes. “Was the bridge really down?”

“I never made it there,” he replied truthfully.

So he came back for me. In a hurricane. That was … probably one of the most idiotic things he could have done. Then again, I should have expected no different.I sighed and pulled away from him. My forehead still felt warm from where we touched.

He said, “You think I’m a fool.”

“Maybe.” I opened my eyes, and he was already looking at me, studying the crease in my brow. “But so am I. I just want to apologize—”

“You don’t have to,” he interrupted, beginning to pull away, but I cupped his face in my hands and kept him close.

“Iwantto, Sasha,” I insisted, so he understood the gravity of it.

The edge of his mouth quirked up, and I knew he was thinking something snarky, but I dutifully ignored it.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry I pushed you away.”

He took my hand from his face, and kissed my palm. “Rooney emailed me the cowriting contract before we found your mom at the piano. I thought it was you, so I was coming to … apologize. I was just so afraid that you were pushing me away now that I am no longer useful.”

“Useful?” I echoed.

He nodded, pursing his lips. “Because you’re so much better than me—youdeserveso much better than me.”

“Well, that’s silly,” I replied, falling deeper into his gaze with every moment. “I deserve every bit of you.”

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