Again, But Better(117)

“You come around and the armor falls … pierce the room like a wrecking ball, now all I know is don’t let go.”

I hug my legs to my chest. He keeps singing. He’s changed the song a bit, morphing certain lyrics and parts together. “Pilot,” I interrupt.

He breaks song for a second and smiles bashfully. That’s an expression I’ve never seen on him before. I melt a tiny bit.

“Hold on,” he says. “I have a three-song concert prepared. Let me do this.”

A three-song concert? The melody changes to one of my favorites. A happy-go-lucky song that Taylor plays on the ukulele.

He sings, “I’m pretty sure we kinda broke up back in February … I was an idiot, a how you say? Douche. Canoe.” I snort.

“We made things all dramatic and I let you walk away. And I, I, I, I, I, I, I, I’m sorry.”

I try to scoff. “That really doesn’t rhyme at all.”

He shakes his head, smiling. “Stay, Stay, Stay. I’ve been loving you for quite some time, time, time. I think that’s it’s funny when you’re mad, mad, mad, and I think that’s it’s best if we both stay … Stay. Stay. Stay, Stay.”

I open my mouth to speak again.

“Wait just one more,” he protests, holding up his hand and smiling at the ground. He starts the last song. I snort-sob.

“And you got a smile that could light up this whole town, I see it right now and it’ll always blow me down … I hope that means we can go forward from here?”

“Okay, stop!” I wipe at my cheeks. Pilot lowers the guitar into a black case he must have brought with him. He sits next to me on the ground.

“Hey,” he opens.

I stare for a second and shake my head. “What … what the hell are you doing here?”

He shrugs. “I needed to make a move.”

“How did you even know I was here?”

Pilot grins. “Are you kidding? I never miss a post from French Watermelon Nineteen. You said you were headed to Edinburgh … and I gathered more exact intel from Babe.”

“Babe?”

Babe endorsed this? I blink some more, unsure of what to say. He glances nervously at the ground. I fiddle with my hands. “Um, what happened to Amy?”

“I broke up with Amy.”

I meet his eyes. “And she knows it?”

“Yes.” He nods and closes his eyes like it’s an immense relief to speak this aloud.

I smile the tiniest bit. “Oh.”

A frown tugs at his lips. “I’ve wanted to come talk for a while now, but you were doing really well without me, like you said you would, so”—he presses his lips together—“I started to think you were right. I mean, maybe I was getting in the way of why you were really here. You’ve been kicking ass.” His eyes meet mine, sincere and olive green.

I swallow, looking at his cheek rather than holding direct eye contact.

“I was going to come talk to you the night your piece went up on Packed! I was so pumped; it was so good too.” He bites his lip. “But I chickened out because after the way we left things, I wanted to—I mean, I needed a move.”

Pilot shifts to meet my averted eyes. “Listen, I know this is scary, the pull between us or whatever, but it’s also really rare. And great, and I’d really love to try and make it work. I know you’re worried about losing yourself. Let’s have dates where we just read so you don’t fall behind on that, and we’ll have ones where you can write whatever you’re working on, and I can work on music. We can work on a balance. Shane, I want you to choose you too … I just”—he exhales shakily—“lamppost.”

My chin wobbles. I bring a hand to my forehead, and watch him sideways. “I really like those ideas … I’ve missed you,” I say quietly. I drop down on my back again.

He comes down next to me. “I missed you.”

I blow out a shaky breath. “That was a big move,” I tell the sky. I turn my head to find his eyes. He’s already watching me. “I tried to make a move like this once.”

He smiles. “For who?”

A wispy tear trickles down my cheek and into the grass. “For you.”

His brow furrows. “In Paris?”

I shake my head. “No, the first time we were here.”

“When?”

“I wanted to tell you, that I”—I pause to take in a breath—“that I really, really liked you. And I didn’t get my shit together to do it until I was at Heathrow. I turned around at the bag drop, and took a taxi back to the Karlston. I ran down to your door and knocked on it incessantly.

“But no one answered because you had already left. The door wasn’t locked … I opened it and all your stuff was gone. I hadn’t thought to ask what hotel you were moving to.

“It was stupid. I spent too long looking for you there and I missed my flight.”

His eyes pierce mine. “Shane…”

My cheeks redden. “Yeah … Lamppost back atcha.”

He reaches out, takes my hand. “I followed you up a mountain today, so…”

A gurgled laugh bubbles out of me.

He smirks. “I had to keep a group between us so you wouldn’t see me, or else it would spoil the moment, you know.”