Leaving Amarillo(58)

Things are on the verge of changing irrevocably. I can feel it with everything I am. We have a manager now, a showcase tomorrow night, and who knows what will come after.

My hand slides against Gavin’s as he takes Oz’s case from me and places him gently inside the back of the van. That same spark, the one I’ve felt since we were kids, since the first time his hand touched mine, snakes up my arm and down my spine. Our gazes finally meet on the collision course I feel like we’ve been on forever. There’s a flicker, a brief flash in his eyes like he’s going to say something, but he looks away.

I want to ask him—no, I want to demand that he tell me if he’s coming to my room tonight or not. But Dallas is still going on and on about meeting up with Mandy.

“Hey, Dix, you look pretty beat. Why don’t you sit this one out?”

“Um,” I begin, unsure as to whether I should go or just head to the hotel. I wish I could say that Dallas needs to let Gavin get some sleep, because he’s had even less than I have, but I can’t. So I just lift one shoulder noncommittally. “Okay. I can take a cab or—”

“Naw, we’ll take one from the hotel. I want to make sure you get safely to your room before we head out.” Dallas smiles warmly at me and my heart swells a little in my chest. I love my brother, overprotective ass and all. But I really wish he wasn’t dragging Gavin out on the town tonight. “And I’m going to set half a dozen alarms on your phone.”

“Well . . . thanks, I guess.”

Once we’re in the van, Dallas in the driver’s seat and Gavin beside him while I sit in the back, my brother details our agenda for the next twenty-four hours.

“So it’s a twelve-hour drive to Nashville tomorrow. The showcase runs through Monday but all Mandy can get us is a nine o’clock slot tomorrow night. There was a last-minute cancellation. If we leave at six we’ll have plenty of time even with traffic. Sucks that we don’t have a demo to hand out but I have that recording you made us, Gavin. The one with ‘Whiskey Redemption’ and the encore medley on it.”

I take it all in, feeling wearier with each word, as if they’re weights my brother is handing me to hold.

“I have a cleaner copy on the laptop. Want me to burn another one and bring it tonight?”

My eyes trace Gavin’s profile while he and Dallas hash out the details. Even exhausted, he’s beautiful. And he’s going out tonight. Out out from the sounds of it.

“Nah. We might be out late tonight so just do it tomorrow on the way to Nashville.”

The word “late” pulls me from my greedy perusal of Gavin’s face. They’re going out and staying out. Dallas says something about sleeping in shifts and taking turns driving Emmylou to Nashville, but I’m still distracted by what they’re doing tonight.

The entire ride to the hotel I’m waiting. Waiting for Gavin to say he doesn’t want to go out, that he’s tired, or has other plans. Something. But he just keeps up the conversation with Dallas about rearranging a few songs and suggestions for tomorrow night as if I’m not even here.

Somehow in the four blocks to the hotel, anger has ignited inside of me and I’m fiercely pissed-off by the time we pull into the parking lot. Exhaustion has given way to frustration and I’m not even sure what exactly I’m so upset over—the cryptic comment he made about not wanting an out or the fact that I know he might meet someone else while out with my brother.

Dallas pulls into a parking spot and we all shuffle out of the van. Gavin leans against it and I force myself not to even look at him.

“I’m fine, Dallas. You were right. I’m beat. I’m just going to head in and crash. No need to walk me. I’m a big girl.”

“You sure?” My brother pulls out his phone, to dial a cab I assume.

“Yep. I’m good. Just tired.”

“All right. Text me and let me know you’re in safe, okay?”

“Sure.” I nod and adjust my purse containing the evidence from my road trip with Gavin. “Have a good night, boys.”

“Night.” Dallas nods and lifts his phone to his ear. Because I’m weak, my eyes drift over to Gavin as I turn to walk into the hotel lobby.

“Sweet dreams, Bluebird,” he says barely loud enough for me to hear.

With an obvious huff of annoyance and disappointment, I shake my head and keep walking.

I gave him an out. My brother gave him another one.

Seems he’s taking them both.

Sitting alone in my room while Gavin and my brother go out on the town is not an option. Unless I want to drive myself insane.

Dallas would have a come-apart if he knew what I was doing right now. I went to my room and texted my brother that I was inside safely, before promptly turning around and walking right back out of it. The rain has eased to a drizzle and it’s barely even dampened my hair by the time I get to the Driskill hotel. We played a wedding reception here once and I know the bar has a piano. It’s been a while since I’ve played one, but the moment I lay eyes on it, it calls to me.

The room is mostly empty with the exception of a few businessmen sitting in the bar. I make my way over and lower myself onto the bench at the baby grand.

Nana used to make me play a few warm-ups before launching into a complex piece, to keep my fingers from cramping, she said. But tonight I don’t have the luxury of taking my time. The bar isn’t open much longer and if I don’t lose myself in the melody I’m going to lose my mind in the abyss that is wondering what Gavin is doing right now.