Page 9 of Collide

“You should come with us.” The band includes Jon Pettington, aka Petty, and Jared Kane. Wild with dirty blond hair, Petty defines a sexy drummer with surfer looks and a dangerous smirk. He has the reputation as the player of the group. Jared looks more bookish with glasses and short brown hair that’s longer on the top. He’s sweet, mature, and cautious. Gage falls somewhere in the middle.

As I don’t think parasailing is on the list of approved activities during pregnancy, I tell him, “I’ll pass, but thank you for asking.”

“Why? Afraid of heights?”

I’m not, but I can’t explain my reasons to him. “Something like that.”

“Strange, considering you’re renting the penthouse.” I feel his eyes on me again, but I only respond with a snort.

We part ways back in the condo.

“I think I’m going to read.” I have the next chapter of the baby book to catch up on. “You should go out. The bars are full of…” Women? One-night stands? What am I suggesting? Suddenly, I don’t want him to leave.

You could be with him.

The idea crosses my mind and then flits away. Another selfish thought and one I don’t wish to entertain. Being with Gage Everly would be way too complicated, and my life is complicated enough.

5

GAGE

I don’t meet the guys at the bar although they begged me to come down.

“You’re boring, old man,” Petty complains.

“What are you doing?” Jared asks.

“I’m playing my guitar,” I tell them, which surprises all of us. For the first time in months, inspiration comes to me, and I don’t want to give up the opportunity. Since Cash’s death, I’ve been struggling. We were a team—Jared, Cash, and me. Petty wasn’t part of our creative process, but he played his drums like none other. I feel like a loose wheel without Cash to bounce around ideas, but after my walk with Ivy, I’m refreshed.

Briefly, I think of Cash. We’d been in high school together, shared musical interests, and then he disappeared. I reconnected with him in a coffeehouse in Seattle. I’d left my small town for the music scene there, hoping to earn my way to someplace bigger. Cash had the same vision as me along with a charismatic personality and dumb luck, which got us into a studio for a demo. After his freshman year at Vanderbilt, Jared joined us. He had the connection with Petty, who wanted off his family farm, and the four of us became Collision. Our creative process included Jared prettying up my words and Cash fine-tuning our sound. I miss my old friend as I strum another chord and jot down another line.

Then I sense her presence.

She’s so fucking gorgeous. Her blonde hair glows from the backdrop of a single light coming from the wall of windows dividing the living room from the rooftop patio. She’s wearing a long T-shirt down to her knees, exposing the great legs I remember wrapped around my hips.

Stop thinking of her like that, dude, I scold.

“Hey.” My voice cracks like I’m a teenager again as I address her. She’s leaning against the doorjamb of one of the open sliding doors. Her head tilts as if the frame holds her upright. Her hands crisscross before her, fingers entwined. She’s dressed in sadness. “Did I wake you?”

“I couldn’t sleep,” she says. Her voice carries to me, but she feels so far away. I pat the cushion where I sit on the outdoor loveseat. She doesn’t take my offer but sits in a chair to my left, tucking her legs into the nightshirt and pulling it down to her toes.

Don’t look, man. I will myself not to check her out, but I can’t ignore the hint of her panties.

“Whatcha doing out here?” she asks.

Could I tell her about the song? I decide against it and look upward. “Just admiring the stars.”

Her head tips back, and she gazes up. “Wow,” she mutters.

Wow, I think, admiring the line of her neck where her hair drapes over her shoulder.

“It’s gorgeous,” she whispers.

“Yes, you are,” I say and then clear my throat when her head rolls on the cushion and eyes the color of the breaking dawn meet mine.

I glance upward. “I mean, it is.” I don’t look at her as I speak. “Did you know that when two stars collide, they don’t explode? They can either connect or collapse.” I don’t know why I tell her this, other than I feel as if Ivy and I are two stars circling one another. I want us to collide.

“Is that where the name came from? For your band?” she clarifies. My eyes drop down to her as she looks up again. Collision.