Reckless Abandon (November Blue, #2)(78)

“Well, besides hiding in the back of a bar while I performed?”

Regan suddenly sounds more awake. “Did you see him?”

I explain the night’s events to Regan, ending with me standing in the empty foyer of the Cavanaugh house.

“No,” Regan answers, “we met for lunch today, but he didn’t mention anything about his plans for the rest of the night. Sorry,

Em.”

“It’s OK, just thought I’d give it a shot. Go back to bed. This was all a dream.” I laugh and hang up.

I quickly decide that I’ll stay here all night if I have to, but I’m not leaving until I talk to Bo. I can’t walk away again

without telling him how I really feel. Not again. I decide to wander down to the studio, where I find evidence of Bo scattered

everywhere. His guitar. Sheet music with his handwriting. God, even his smell circulates through the eerily silent studio.

Sandalwood and sex. I chuckle thinking about the first time I really smelled him, out on the beach behind Finnegan’s five months

ago. I glide my fingers across the tops of the piano keys, letting the sounds of a broken scale fill the anxious space around me.

“November?” I jump at Bo’s voice as his heavy footsteps race through the first floor. “Ember?” He calls me again from the top

of the stairs. Bo doesn’t wait for my reply as he runs down the stairs. I’m afraid he’ll fall going at that pace.

Only the hall light is on as I wait in the darkness of the studio. I straighten my back and pray that he’ll hear me out when he

walks in here. In a second, his broad shoulders fill the doorframe. He flicks a switch that illuminates dim track lighting just

above the piano. A second flick turns on a light above his head. I’m breathing through my mouth as he walks slowly toward me.

“You’re here,” he whispers.

I nod. “You watched me sing tonight.”

He nods back.

“And the last few weeks?” I question, knowing the answer.

“Yes.” He shifts side to side and puts his hands in his pockets. With his chin lowered, he looks at me through his thick,

gorgeous lashes. “You’re smiling?”

“You make me happy,” I whisper.

I step forward, reaching for his chin with my hand. When my skin connects with his, his lips part with a gasp. His eyes meet mine,

and he slightly furrows his brow when he speaks again.

“You’re not mad?”

I smile. “No. I spent months trying to be mad at you for something so stupid, Bo, and I was miserable. Irreparably miserable.” I

swallow hard and put my hand down, remembering why I’m here. “I’m sorry, Bo.” My chin quivers as I struggle to maintain

composure.

“Oh, my God...Ember...no.” Bo grabs my face with both hands.

I stare into his eyes and it’s there. Everything’s there. Kissing him first in the parking lot of Finnegan’s all those months

ago, waking up in his arms, and singing “Heaven When We’re Home” when we were just strangers. Though I suppose we were never

really strangers—a thousand lifetimes is a powerful thing. And it’s there.

His thumbs trace my cheeks. “I was never mad at you, ever.”

“I left you after Rae’s funeral ...”

“I told you to go. I needed you to go, Ember.” Bo moves one thumb to my chin and presses down on it to stop the quivering.

“But I love you, Bo. I shouldn’t have left.”

His eyes fill with tears as he smiles. “You loved me enough to leave that day, Ember. I needed to grieve and to be angry. I didn’

t want to hurt you, and I would have if you’d stayed.” His hands scoop down my neck and grip my shoulders.

I reach up and pull his hands away from my shoulders and interlace my fingers with his. “Why the hell did you hide from me at

Delta Blue?”

He bites his lip. It’s the first time I’ve ever seen him bite his lip and it’s driving me crazy.

“The first time I went, I just wanted to see if you were OK. Josh said you were doing well.”

“Ha. I should have learned after the ‘thousand lifetimes’ debacle, that Josh Dixon can’t keep a secret.”

“Good point.” His face relaxes for a moment. “Seriously though, when I saw you, it took my breath away all over again.” He

lifts his head and chuckles a little. “You sounded perfect. I just thought...I don’t know...I didn’t want to ruin you.”

“Ruin me?”

“You just looked so happy. I guess I was kind of afraid that if I barged back in ...” He puts his hands back in his pockets and

takes a step back.

“Bo Cavanaugh, you don’t get to decide what’s good for me and what’s not.” I keep my tone light. “You. You’re what’s good

for me. I spent the last few months getting healthy for me, but I wanted to make sure that if—like you said—you and I ever got

our chance again, that I was perfect for you. For us.”

“I’m sorry about the night of Rae’s funeral.” His voice breaks slightly over the word funeral.

“You needed me. What’s there to be sorry about? I spent five agonizing months trying to be mad at you, but all I did was end up