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Chapter Thirty
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“Hey.” Starr comes waltzinginto my room with her open laptop balanced in her hand.
“Thanks for knocking,” I tell her, tossing the book I was attempting to read onto the nightstand.
“My house.” She sticks out her tongue and drops down on the bed next to me, nudging me with her hip so I’ll scoot over and give her some room.
“What are you doing?” I ask, sitting completely upright with my legs outstretched in front of me.
“I need to show you something,” she says, clicking on her keyboard before sliding the computer onto my lap.
The second I see Hudson’s name at the top of the video, I push it back toward her. Having spent the last four days bouncing between work, Emma’s house, and the hospital, on top of getting crap for sleep the past few nights, I am in no mood for whatever game she’s playing.
“Stop.” She grabs the top of the screen, preventing me from moving the computer more than an inch. “I just need you to see something.”
“I don’t want to see it,” I tell her, refusing to look at the screen.
“Please, Lenny. You really do need to see this.” She clicks on a key and Hudson’s voice instantly fills the space.
The sound causes tears to sting my eyes and a thick knot to form in the back of my throat. But then I hearhervoice and my stomach churns. Even after all is said and done, a part of me still blames Annabelle for how everything fell apart. I can’t help but think if she wasn’t part of the equation then maybe Hudson and I would still be together.
“I’m not watching this.” I look directly at my sister.
“Just wait a second,” she tells me impatiently, fast-forwarding through the video. “Okay there, she’s gone.”
Even though it’s the last thing I want to do, my eyes turn toward the screen, my chest exploding in an all-consuming ache that makes it damn near impossible to breathe the instant my eyes land on Hudson. It’s a video shot by someone in the audience. The camera pointed up at him in all his glory. God, I had almost forgotten how gorgeous he was. I knead my lip between my teeth, not sure what I’m waiting for but knowing it better happen soon before I have a complete and total meltdown.
“This was recorded three nights ago at a festival in Ohio,” Starr tells me. “Watch the whole thing,” she says, patting my leg before quickly climbing out of the bed.
The door latches moments later but I’m too glued to the screen to look up. I didn’t realize how much I missed him until this very moment. Or maybe I did but I was too stubborn to admit it to myself.
He looks out over the crowd, his shirt wet with sweat, face red, and my god if he’s not the most incredible thing I’ve ever seen.
My heart beats a little faster.
“I’m gonna get serious with you all for a moment if that’s okay?” He grins at the random hoots and whistles coming from the audience. “I wrote a song recently. It was brutal; the whole process ripped me apart. Because, a few weeks ago someone walked out of my life and left a huge hole in it. I’m sure some of you have been there.” The crowd gasps at his every word and so do I. “So I dealt with it the only way I knew how. I wrote a fucking song about it.” He chuckles and the crowd laughs with him.
I don’t even have to guess if he’s talking about me. I know he is and the fact that he’s standing up on stage pouring his heart out to his fans does something to my insides I can’t quite explain.
“You guys wanna hear it?” he asks and the audience erupts in response. “It’s the first song off my second album and this is the first time anyone is hearing it.” The crowd cheers even louder. “Well alright then. I’m going to strip it down for you since the band hasn’t done this one before.” He smiles and even though I can’t see his dimple, I know it’s there. I can see it as if he’s standing right in front of me.
He takes a seat on a stool in the middle of the stage and slides his guitar strap over his neck. “This song is called Tequila Burn and I hope you like it,” he adds after adjusting the microphone into its stand. Seconds later his fingers begin moving along the strings.
I’m completely paralyzed. I can’t move, can’t breathe. All I can do is watch Hudson in the middle of the stage. Just him and his guitar. One solitary light shining on him. Illuminating him in a way that almost makes him look other worldly.
He closes his eyes as he starts to sing and I swear it’s like he’s singing just for me.
“It’s easy to lose yourself in a tequila haze. To let the music carry you away. The feel of your hands warm on my chest. The way I felt by the press of your lips. But when the fog cleared and you were gone the urge to feel the burn was still too strong. I’m addicted to your taste, your touch, your smell, and this bottle of tequila reminds me too well.”
Tears pour down my face. The emotion–the pure rawness of his performance is enough to bring anyone to tears. Knowing that I did this. That I put that pain there. That I’m the reason he’s hurting rips the hole in my chest wide open and I swear everything I’ve been holding inside pours out of me.
I’m sobbing by the time the song ends, the sound of the audience fresh in my ears as I shove the laptop aside and head for the door. When I pull it open Starr is standing on the other side with a knowing look on her face.
“He’s at the beach house,” she’s says, dangling a set of keys in front of me.
“How do you know that?” I ask, my voice hoarse.
