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Michael and Elle filled out the song with their deeper acoustic tones as he closed his eyes and sang the first verse of “Shape of My Heart”. Memories of the teasing words between him and Denver earlier in the day swirled in his head.
She’d become the playlist in his mind lately. He didn’t even realize he’d fallen so hard and so deep into the song until he opened his eyes and found her. The lyrics held double meaning in so many ways.
He hadn’t realized jus
t how easy it was to slide from friends to more, but he was there. And as Elle brought out the divine in her Spanish guitar, he poured his heart into the words.
Denver was too far away for him to know exactly what was going on behind those huge dark eyes, but he knew she was with him. And the memories were there, arcing between them.
When the verse was over, he glanced over at Molly, waiting for daggers. He’d totally jacked the song and sang every verse instead of sharing it with her.
Instead, he saw her in that zone he loved to see. When the music took her over. She tapped her fingers on the mic and held a Tambourine for an extra sizzle of tone in the song.
Ryan relaxed and his attention went back to Denver, but she was gone.
He didn’t mean to sigh into the mic, but he did as he finished out the last bit. He had to believe she could still hear him. He knew he was asking a lot from her. Knew she wasn’t ready for the feelings growing between them, but dammit, he wasn’t going to lie about where his thoughts were headed.
“Give him a hand, guys.” Molly leaned with her mic stand. “That’s some love for music right there.”
The crowd went nuts, and he smiled. “All right, enough of that pussy shit.” He stood and rummaged for his saxophone. “Let’s get this party started.” The jazzy brass started off the rocking version of “Intent” as they flew into the last quarter of the set.
By the time they got to “Goodbye”, they were exhausted and exhilarated. More people came in and filled the back of the auditorium from the sounds of their set flowing out into the quad.
Molly ate up the attention, and she and her swishing skirts jumped off the stage and ran to the back of the room.
“Oh, shit,” Michael muttered and looked around. “What the hell is she doing?”
Ryan shrugged and followed her off the stage with his acoustic. Mal stood from his kit and grabbed his bongos and followed suit. When he jumped down next to Ryan, he socked him in the arm. “Don’t look so shocked, kid.”
Ryan laughed, and the band followed her like the Pied Piper she could be. She went through the doors and the crowd circled around her as she made a beeline for the grass in the quad. The sun was blazing and the campus was only at half capacity with summer classes.
But everyone noticed Molly.
And they all followed her. Their concert went from a crazy acoustic one to an impromptu outdoor show with everyone sitting on the grass as they took requests. Picks ranged from a stripped-down version of “Pour Some Sugar on Me” to a dirty, anthemic version of “Side to Side” from Ariana Grande, the pop princess. A handful of other sing-along songs extended the ninety-minute show to three hours.
By the time it was over, they were all hoarse, but full of laughter. He wished Denver had stuck around to see it, but for now he was happy to have this memory to add to the rest. One of many on this crazy tour.
When he stood and followed the rest of the band out of the circle of fans, he spotted her at the edges, her eyes full of light and a wry, secret smile that hardened him instantly.
Damn, it really was a good day. Now if only they could keep the streak going.
If only this could be a beginning of something special—not just for the band, but for them.
Chapter Thirteen
The road was a brutal bitch.
A couple shows in Chicago were in the bag. Now they were on a trip to nowhere. Or it just seemed that way. At least this monotonous stretch would land them in Vegas.
Eventually.
Ryan stretched his legs into the aisle of the bus and tipped back his head, his eyes narrowing on the episode of daytime TV his female bandmates had put on. Somehow they thought that people shouting about “trifling hoes” and throwing chairs qualified as quality entertainment. He didn’t agree, and neither did West, who was sprawled beside him playing some game on his phone while Lauren divided her attention between West’s score and the TV.
“I never understood why people get so up in arms,” Lo said thoughtfully. “There’s a lot of fish in the sea, right? If yours is more interested in your neighbor’s food, easy enough to cut them loose.”
West shot her a sidelong glance. “Sometimes people fall in love and it isn’t that easy.” He nodded toward Elle, who was sitting on her yoga mat on the floor, her knee looped up to her chest and her chin resting on top of it. She was pretending to watch TV, but Ryan had caught her glancing off into space more than once.
“Oh, I don’t think it’s just love. If you truly loved someone, you would want them to be happy even if it wasn’t with you. Some of this speaks more to ego than anything else.”
