Page 45 of Conviction
I wanna know you again,
I wanna stare into your eyes.
I wanna watch you while you sleep.
I wanna kiss away your pain.
But until that day,
I’ll look up at the stars, and wonder where you are?
And hope that you’re looking at them too.
And wondering, where I are?
Please tell me.
Please, please tell me.
That you wonder,
Where I are?
Sophie has her arm aroundmy shoulder, and I grip her hand with both of mine. I’ve heard this song hundreds of times, but I’ve never really listened to the words. To be honest, I usually turn the radio down when a Shift song gets played, and Marcus just turns it off if they even get mentioned.
The song ends, and I feel almost bereft. I want it to go on. I want to hear Conner say that he wrote it for me again. I want to feel the words and his voice wrap around me, to make my world good again.
“Why didn’t he show, Soph? Why’d he leave me like that? If the words in that song are true, why did he never come for me?”
“I don’t know, babe, I really don’t know.”
She wipes a tear from under my eye with a napkin. “But ya know what? The only way to find out is to ask him, and we want that pretty face of yours looking perfect when you do.”
“What? No. No way. I’m a mess Soph, and anyway, there’s no way I’ll be able to get near him after that performance.” He’ll be surrounded by groupies and supermodels. Why would he want to talk to me, the girl he left behind?
Sophie says no more. We turn back to the stage and watch the rest of the set. Just as the boys are taking a bow, someone puts their hand on my shoulder. I turn and come face to face with Tyler Reed.
“Nina, how are you? You’re looking well.” He leans in and kisses my cheek. I don’t know why, but I get a lump in my throat when I look at him.
I thought he was going to be a part of my life.
I thought I was going to be a part of his family.
“I’m good Ty. A little bit drunk, but I’m good.”
“Jenna’s just gone over to the bar, d’ya wanna come and have a drink with us?”
I fumble around my fuzzy brain, trying to find the words I need to use, to make a sentence that will explain why I couldn’t possibly join him and Jenna at the bar for a drink, when Sophie says from over my shoulder, “We’d love to. Lead the way.”
“Fuck yeah!” Gunner throws hissticks into the crowd and then pulls me into his nine-foot-wide chest.
I’m not usually so emotional, my nieces and nephews are normally the only ones that get to me, but this last month or so has been hard. There have been times since losing Jet that I’ve wondered if I’d ever be able to do this again. I’ve doubted my ability to be able to perform, to sing, to play guitar. I’ve thought that without Jet by my side, it would be too hard, but today has blown all of my self-doubts out the window. I’m fucking buzzing. My blood feels like it has electricity charging through it.
“Yeah. Come on,” Marley roars as we head off stage. “You fucking rocked it, Reed. You fucking slayed them.”
I will never, till my dying day admit to anyone what his words have just made me feel. Marley Layton is God to me. My heart is hammering so hard, I wouldn’t be surprised if I’ve broken a rib or two. I can’t wipe the smile off of my face, but at the same time I can’t swallow down the lump in my throat. I want to jump for fucking joy, skip like a six-year-old girl, slide down a rainbow and kiss a unicorn. Fuck cloud nine, I’m up around seven hundred and eighty-seven.
But still, still I know there’s something missing, and I feel it deep down in my gut when Gunner walks straight into Chelsea’s arms while we head to our dressing room.
