AllFreeNovel
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I breathe her in, relaxing in a way I haven’t in months.
She pulls back, and reaches up to cup my cheeks. “You look exhausted.”
I shrug, quirking a small smile. “I am.”
And it’s true. Now that we’re here—home—and for the first time in weeks get to just chill and not have to worry about things like breaking down on the road, or traffic… Living from one show to the next in a blur of highway and shifting skylines…
It’s hitting me.
It’s over
And I’m sad. No doubt about that. It’s bittersweet, that’s for sure. But fuck, if I’m not relieved to just do…nothing for a while. Nothing but start working on our new album.
And while, yes, it’s work now, technically…so not actually a break…
It’s not much different to what we’ve been doing for years.
Writing, creating, playing just amongst ourselves, holed up in the basement of a dive bar in the middle of nowhere…
It’s where we thrive.
Gavin and Linda take their turns hugging me next. Gavin ruffles my hair, just like when I was a kid, despite me now being several inches taller than him.
We briefly catch up as the crowd starts to thin and disperse after Gavin whistles, and shouts, “Last call.”
Some people exchange confused looks, but most just laugh, shrug, and wave us off with goodbyes and welcome backs and more congratulations.
“What?” Gavin says to his wife. “It worked.”
Linda shakes her head and leans into him when he lifts his arm.
Will and Waylon find their way over to us, and I find out this whole thing was Phoebe’s idea, not Will’s like I thought.
Why I assumed it was him instead of her, I have no idea. This has Phoebe written all over it—pom poms and banners and all. I’m just surprised she didn’t take it a step further and TP the bar with streamers.
“It’s your first tour,” she says. “We knew you’d probably be too wiped out for a party tonight—that’s happening Friday—but we wanted to show you how missed you were.”
“Thought that party was gonna be a surprise,” Will says dryly.
Phoebe tilts her head with a frown. “Was it?”
Waylon chuckles and reaches over, tugging her into a one-armed hug.
“So,” I say, “uh, where’s?—”
“Over there,” Waylon says, kicking his chin at some spot behind me.
Straightening, I turn, following his gaze.
Oh. He thought I was asking about Ivy.
I start to say, “No, I meant…” only for my voice to trail off when I spot a second figure.
She’s not alone.
Pulse pounding, all I can do is stare at the guy currently tugging on the black beanie hiding what I assume is still silvery-white hair.
Unless he dyed it back…or some other color.
