Page 37 of A Love Song for Dreamers

“Myguitar.”

“You still haveit.”

“Of course I do. Twenty-four frets. Rosewood. I fucking love that guitar. Some love lasts alifetime.”

“Just not ours.” She blinks fast. “I’ll change in thebathroom.”

She heads that way, closing the door quietly behind her, and I rub my good hand over my neck and wonder what the fuck I was thinking bringing herhere.

I shift into bed in my boxer briefs and exhale the breath I’ve been holding for longer than I cancount.

The way Annie looked at me a second ago, it was almost as if she was accusing me. Like the way I loved the guitar she gave me outlasted how I lovedher.

It’s not true.The words feel as if they’re coming from inside me and outside atonce.

But it is. I’m over her. I told myself that for the last two years, since before I believedit.

Eventually, I startedto.

She returns a moment later, crawling in next to me. Her light floral scent has me itching to reach my good arm around her and tug her body againstmine.

Instead, I fist my hand at myside.

I remember every time we’ve shared abed.

From the first time after her party in high school when I wanted to know she was okay to the time afterprom.

The time in her dorm room at Vanier when I made her come for the firsttime.

The hotel in LA when I showed up at her door, swore she meant everything, and we made love forhours.

I think about the beds I lay in alone, nameless hotels in cities I barelyremember.

Getting to perform for big crowds, having money and fans and influence for the first time—at least a backup band that listened to me for once instead of the other way around—mattered, but not nearly as much as it shouldhave.

In months of touring, the only woman who ever got me off was Annie Jamieson. Her face, her voice, her damned memory was the only one I wanted in mybed.

I never told anyone, and I’m sure as hell not going to tell her as we lie next to each other, staring at the ceiling, still buzzed from themusic.

But her closeness has my heart thudding hard enough to bruise myribs.

“I was thinking about what you said. How we wouldn’t have lasted on the road, and it wouldn’t have worked if I’d stayed.” My words echo in the dark. “You found yourself in New York and I lost myselfthere.”

For a moment, I wonder if Annie’s already asleep, until I feel the bed sink as she turns towardme.

“I replayed it in my head a thousand times. What I could’ve done differently. Giving you more space, or less. Trying to make it work from adistance.”

I exhale hard. “No. I wish I’d been better in those moments. The last few times we were together... it wasn’t good. I hate that you’ll always remember me likethat.”

I feel her inch closer, her breath lightly fanning my lips. “I remember we used to dream about this. You having a recording career and me being on stage. And now we are. So it all worked out,right?”

The question in her voice has my chest tightening in a way that’sdangerous.

“Yeah. It all workedout.”

9

“Idon’t wantto wear that.” Sophie gives me pre-schooler side-eye, then runs across the room toward hertoys.

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