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I reached for his hands, my fingers caressing the tattoos on his knuckles. Courage. Strength. I stared at them until the symbols blurred. Until my heart was pounding so hard and loud, I was sure he could hear it.
I was either all in or I wasn’t. There was no more figuring this out.
I leaned into him. “I know.” And then I stood on my toes and kissed him. And I mean, kissed him. There were catcalls and whistles, and when I finally broke away, we were both breathing heavy.
“I love you,” I whispered.
Trevor rested his forehead on mine. “You know that I love you too, right?”
“Show me,” I said with a smile. He took a step back and nodded. He knew. That was enough.
He turned and hopped onto the stage, striding across it like he owned it. He grabbed a guitar, and Link grabbed the other one, and then they were sitting right in front of us.
Trevor flexed his fingers and then started strumming, but his eyes were on me and they never left. He cleared his throat a couple of times and then started to speak.
There’s this extra cadence that you can hear when someone is on a mic, like, it picks up all the warm parts and makes them larger than life. Trevor’s voice was like that—I had the whole goose bumps thing going on. I had it huge. And man, it felt great.
“It feels good to be back,” he said to a chorus of cheers and we love you. “Yeah,” he said with a grin that melted my heart. “I love you too.”
He kept strumming his guitar, and Link joined in, the two of them filling up the place with something that was perfect.
“I’ve had a shit year, you know? But ah, this girl right here.” He pointed to me, and the place erupted into more catcalls and whistles. “I know, right?” He laughed. “Well, this girl taught me a few things over the summer.”
Someone shouted something that I didn’t quite get, but Trevor laughed and shook his head. “No way, man. Some stuff is just for me, got it?”
More catcalls and whistles.
And then his playing got softer, more intimate, and I thought that if I wasn’t careful, I’d drown in his eyes.
“I haven’t played this particular guitar in over a year and, uh, I’m glad that my dad’s here to see it put to good use again.”
I cranked my head around and spied Trevor’s parents near the coffee bar, along with his sister Taylor. His dad raised his chin, and his smile was so huge I could see it from where I sat.
“I’d try to play my old Epiphone, but my chops, well, they weren’t up to snuff. I almost gave up, and the only reason I’m here tonight is because of this girl right here. Everly Jenkins.” His eyes were on, intense, and beautiful. “I love you.”
Okay, I was blushing and blushing hard.
“This song is for you.”
And then something magical happened. Trevor closed his eyes and started to sing a song about a man who loved his mother and loved his God. It was a beautiful song. A simple song. It was a song about love, acceptance, and listening to your heart.
I don’t know if he screwed up, got the words wrong, or played the wrong notes. If he did? It didn’t matter, not to me anyway. He was up there for himself, and he was up there for me. Singing to me. Singing a song that made my throat tight and my heart ache. A song that I would never forget.
It was Trevor’s song.
And for that one perfect moment, it was my song too.
After
Trevor
It’s funny the things that you think are important when you’re invincible. When you think that nothing can touch you. Music. Parties. Girls. Getting laid. Two years ago, that was me. I was that guy. The one who had it all.
Until I wasn’t.
But the thing is? I don’t care anymore. I’m okay with the fact that I’m not the guy I used to be. Not even close. But whatever I am is some kind of normal, my version of normal at least, and that’s all that matters.
I was glad that Everly let me in. Glad that she gave me a chance to prove that I wasn’t always gonna be a dickhead. And let’s face it, I’d acted like a total douche toward the one girl who made me want to be a better person. My dad had been right. She was the one. And I was willing to do whatever it took to be the kind of guy who deserved her.
