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Back up instrumentals stagger in to accompany Clay, and slowly the lights come back on. The beat, the tone, the draw . . . it’s intoxicating.
Hours click by as he sings and performs, and I allow myself to get completely sucked into the energy of the crowd and the allure of the show. I can’t tear my eyes away from him; I don’t want to miss one single thing. He isn’t just a part of the performance, heisthe performance, and everyone around him is a continuation of him.
Back and forth, he moves across the stage, and the crowd leans with him. At the mic, his right foot taps with the beat, his hips sway between lyrics, and he never puts down the guitar. I know he loves that guitar, but it’s as if it’s an extension of him. The way he holds it against his chest, the way he moves it from front to back, and how he handles it. More than once, I’ve found my eyes traveling to his hands. Those same hands that have picked me up, taken care of me, and protected me.
Tonight, Ash is in all black. Black boots, black jeans, a black t-shirt, and his signature black cowboy hat. Standing off to the side, I get a full view of him, front and back. He’s already tall, and in these jeans, he’s even taller, the strength of his thighs evident, and the perfect shape of his backside too. Under the lights, it’s also easy to see how much he is sweating. His skin is glistening and the back of his t-shirt is soaked through. As I watch him, thoughts of what might happen later drift through my mind, and my heart starts racing in anticipation.
“All right, ladies and gentlemen, I’m going to slow things down a bit. As most of y’all know, I recently took a little vacation, a much needed vacation. It takes a lot to get a man to break, and boy, was I almost there. So, a man’s gotta do what a man’s gotta do, and I’m sure glad I did. While I was taking a little time off, a few unexpected things happened.” His eyes travel over the crowd and past Clay, until they find mine just hidden backstage. He winks at me, gives me a lopsided grin, and then turns his attention back to his fans in front. “For starters, I wrote a few new songs, and Clay, the band, and I would love to debut one of them for you now.”
He steps back from the mic, and the crowd goes wild. I’m glued to my spot. Nothing and no one can pry me away.
Clay takes a step forward, a single light hits him, and he solos the opening bars. It’s the same melody he played for us at the lake, the day of Ash’s birthday, and I know I’m going to love it. My eyes drift back to Ash’s. They’re on me and heated tingles race across my skin. Listening to Clay, feeling Ash’s eyes as they run over the length of me, my heart pounds with the electricity running between us. Ash’s foot starts tapping the ground, his hips sway slightly, and he reaches for the mic when it’s his cue.
I let out a deep breath I didn’t know I was holding in, and my whole body shivers.
“Oh my God,” Emma mumbles.
“What?” I say without looking at her, my eyes glued to Ash.
“I knew y’all had something going, but I didn’t know it was like that.”
“What do you mean?” I glance at her and she’s fanning herself.
“He’s got it bad for you, and you’ve got it bad for him. Just watching the two of you looking at each other . . . wow, I thought your panties had caught fire. I’m happy for you, Av.” She squeezes my arm.
“Thanks.” Every part of me feels warm and tingly, suffused with a happy glow. I’m hoping that the direction we’ve been moving in is indicative of our future together.
Ash licks his lips and looks down at his guitar as he works it, just as Clay walks over to stand next to him. Together the two of them play, and the smile they share is one that holds a lifetime of friendship. It’s easy to see how fluid they are together, but at the same time, it’s easy to see how they’re so different. Ash is dark, acoustic, and the melody. Clay is light, electric, and the beat.
The two of them separate and he steps back up to the center of the stage. He closes his eyes, rests his mouth against the mic, and I think it’s one of the sexiest things I have ever seen. All thoughts move to his remarkable mouth. A mouth that’s been on mine and no one else’s in this room. I have beautifully intimate knowledge of how full and warm his lips feel pressed up against mine, the brush of his cheek against mine, what he tastes like, and what it feels like to be devoured by him.
I look at my phone and check the time.
I’m ready for this to be over.
I’m ready to take him home.
THE SHOW LASTS exactly three hours, and from start to finish, I give it my all and pour my heart on the stage. In Phoenix, I know that from a technical standpoint, we performed a spectacular show, one of the best ever, but tonight . . . I felt it. Tonight was off the charts! Tonight was one of the most memorable shows I’ve ever had. Maybe it’s because of the break, maybe it’s because of the music, or maybe it’s because of her, but for the first time in a long time, I feel good. I feel like I’m right where I’m supposed to be, doing what I do best.
Glancing to the right, I see Avery and Emma talking just behind the wall keeping them backstage and out of sight. I’ve never had someone waiting for me after a show before, at least not one that I’ve wanted, and it feels so damn good. I’ve also never wanted anyone as much as I want her. Right now, right this minute . . . no, make that right this second.
She’s wearing the same Blue Horizons t-shirt from the night I met her, a tiny little flowy skirt, and this time, black cowboy boots. Her gorgeous legs, her tiny sexy curves, and her wild curly hair all look like perfection to me.
My hands grip the guitar, wishing they were gripping her.
For the last month, I’ve felt the need to handle her delicately. Knowing what I assumed about her past, I’ve always approached her as if she’s made of glass, but tonight I feel like a Brahman bull that’s been let loose in a china shop. Using my hands, fingers, tongue—whatever’s necessary—I want to watch as her eyes drift shut, her skin flushes pink, and she breaks into a thousand little pieces. Then, one by one, I’ll put her back together, me and only me.
Just thinking about it sends blood roaring through all parts of my body.
It’s time to end this show.
Looking back out to the crowd, I smile and the cheering intensifies. “I wanna thank y’all for coming out tonight. I know this show was spontaneous and very last minute, but the best nights usually are, right?” I wink and the crowd explodes, causing me to laugh. “Clay, the band, and myself . . . we’ve had an amazing time, and I think we should plan on doing this again real soon.” I pause and look over to Clay as the cheering continues; he too is smiling from ear to ear. “Y’all be safe traveling home tonight . . . thanks again and take care!” I tip my hat, unstrap the guitar and hold it high as I wave goodbye. The band breaks into our exit ensemble, and relief sets in that it’s over.
Walking over to Clay, he gives me a knowing look and smirks at me. He knows I had fun tonight, and we’re back to where we used to be. He also knows that I’m headed straight for my girl. Shaking my head, I hug him tight, and hand him my guitar.
Moving more quickly than probably necessary, I walk straight off the stage and straight for Avery. Every part of me feels alive and bursting at the seams. My eyes zero in on her, and nothing else matters. No one stops me; no one even tries.
Anyone who tells you that they haven’t thought about their life and what they want out of it is lying. Most at some point will give you the usual, “Sure, one day I plan on getting married and I wouldn’t mind having a few kids,” but no one really thinks about when this might happen. It’s always down the road or later on in life. I too used to have these thoughts, and they were never “if” I was going to get married, they seemed to lean more toward “when.” Suddenly, the “when” seems within reach and that excites me more than it frightens me.
