“Who did you meet?” Gabi asked, wide-eyed.
I didn’t miss a beat. “Donovan Jenkins.”
“Holy shit!” Cheyenne whispered. “He’s gorgeous.”
“Yep,” I said stiffly. “He tried to get me to become his groupie. I turned him down.” I sent her a scathing smile.
“You know, when you do that, I really can’t tell if you’re serious or being a sarcastic bitch like normal.”
I laughed and gave Cheyenne a hug. She looked positively stunned by the display of affection.
“I’m glad you’re my friend, Cheyenne, or else I’d probably hate you.”
“I feel like that all the time.”
The lights flickered, announcing the start of the next band, and my heart raced in anticipation. We were jostled forward as the crowd pressed in on the stage. I was moved closer and closer, and all I could think about was my argument with Grant. I was so angry with him, but at the same time, I just wanted it to be right.
Things felt…complete when we were together. Despite our differences, we clicked. But then, I remembered the way he had drunkenly looked at me, like I was an embarrassment to him, and it solidified my anger. I’d rather make him beg than give in to that girlie feeling of helplessness over a man.
The band walked onstage. First, McAvoy took a seat at his drum set, then Miller walked to the far side of the stage, then Vin followed his typical charisma returning with the start of the show…then Grant. The crowd whooped as he strode confidently onstage. Only I could notice the swagger in his walk was from liquor.
Grant gripped the microphone in his hand, and I couldn’t help it. My heart skipped a beat. Damn him for making me feel this way!
“What’s up Poconos music festival?” he called into the microphone. “We’re ContraBand. Here tonight from Princeton, New Jersey. Any people from Jersey in the house?”
A huge crowd cheered, my friends among them.
“We’re opening tonight with a song written for Jersey about getting the fuck out of there. Every now and then, you just want to leave your home and be somewhere else. This song is ‘Hemorrhage.’”
Our eyes locked right before he started in on the first verse, and then he was just a presence taking over the ski lodge. I was compelled to him as much as I was repulsed by his shit behavior.
“We have a few more songs for you tonight, but this one…this one is new.”
I narrowed my eyes at the stutter in his voice. Grant didn’t stutter. His gaze shifted to mine, and then his eyes didn’t move.
He was staring right at me. “We call this one ‘Life Raft.’”
Vin started up on the melody, and then McAvoy chimed in with a slower down beat. Miller brought in the bass, and then Grant started strumming his guitar. My mouth dropped open slightly. He seemed to nod at me as if telling me that I did know this one. It was what he had been playing earlier today in his suite.
I let the sounds of the strings wash over me just as Grant’s voice came in through the speakers. I didn’t want this. He wasn’t supposed to charm me onstage while I was angry at him. I deserved an apology.
But then, I heard the chorus.
Every time I see you. You make me feel better.
Every single day. You push away the pain.
You push away the memories.
You’re my life raft. In an endless ocean.
You saved me from drowning.
You saved me from myself.
You’re my life raft. In an endless ocean.
I’d heard those words. He’d said them to me last night…right before we’d had sex. This song was for me. It was about us.
I fought back tears and remembered what we had said earlier.
Are you going to sing for me?
Tonight.
Chapter 37: Grant
Ari was crying.
Shit! I kind of hoped that was a good thing. I hadn’t intended on making her cry. I’d poured everything into this song when I wrote it while she’d been gone over Thanksgiving break. I couldn’t believe I’d actually spoken the lyrics to her right before we had sex last night. But the words were for her. I’d written them to express how I felt when I was around her.
Even drunk and angry, I couldn’t deny that the words were true. I had been pissed, and I’d let her walk away. I hadn’t even gone after her. Maybe I was never meant to be a boyfriend. I should have stood up for her, or at the very least, I should have taken our conversation to a private location. I’d known what she was feeling, but instead, I’d just stood there.
Donovan and Hollis had spoken to me afterward to make sure everything was all right. It had felt strange having this conversation with them. I didn’t even fucking know them. They seemed cool, and damn was the life incredible. It was like living in a dream—a dream that hovered just on the edge of reality.
I could have this. All I had to do was reach out and take it. Hollis wanted to talk after the show. I’d given him a dismissive answer, but I really fucking wanted to find out what he wanted. He’d be stupid to give me the same offer that Frank had tried to spell out for me, but Hollis seemed to have a bit more sense than Frank.
I didn’t know. All I really knew was that, I would talk to him. I’d never been one to deny myself anything, and I wasn’t going to start ignoring the curiosity that sprang up.
That didn’t mean I was going to walk out on the guys or Ari. It just meant…well, what the fuck did it mean? That I’m keeping my options open? I wasn’t. I wouldn’t compromise what I believed in. I just wasn’t stupid enough to ignore the opportunity to get everything I wanted.
We closed out the set with “Letting You.” The crowd cheered loudly with the success of our show. My eyes were locked on Ari’s. I needed to talk to her. I wanted to tell her to meet me now, that we needed to talk, that we needed to make this right between us. But I couldn’t. I’d talk to her later. By then, maybe my anger wouldn’t be simmering so close to the surface.
Hollis was waiting just offstage when we exited. He clapped me on the back like we were old friends. “Fucking great show, Grant!”
“Thanks.”
I tried to keep my enthusiasm to a minimum, but Hollis had a certain charisma about him that made something simple sound amazing. I could understand how he’d gotten so far in the business.
“So, we good to talk? I got us a room.”
Miller, McAvoy, and Vin looked at me expectantly. Yeah, shit. I hadn’t told them about this. I hadn’t even told them that I was with The Drift when I’d joined up with them earlier. “The guys can come with us, right?”
“Of course! Hollis Tift. Nice to meet you,” he said, shaking the guys’ hands.
Miller’s face relaxed. “We’ve spoken on the phone. Great to finally meet you in person.”
In hushed whispers, I filled the guys in on what I knew and why Hollis wanted to speak with me…us. Though I wasn’t sure exactly what he would say, I slung my guitar over my chest and talked confidently about it to the guys. This was our opportunity, just like they had all been saying.
We walked into a small room that was strangely reminiscent of our meeting with Frank—except Hollis lounged casually against the wall with his arms crossed and a big smile on his face.
“ContraBand,” Hollis said like he was testing the weight of the word. “Glad you guys are here. I was lucky enough to see your Halloween performance while I was in town, and after seeing what I just saw, I think you have a pretty marketable look and sound.”