Face the Music (24 page)

My mind was working a mile a minute when
Superstardom
came on.  One performer after another took the stage, but I only half-watched.  My
mind was on other things, like
what I
was going to wear
on Friday night
.

I jumped when Molly squealed.  “Chris!”  She bounced up and down on the couch and pointed at the TV.

The song was
Never Gonna Be Alone
by Nickleback. 
The lights were dim, and old black and white film clips showed in the background.  Some of the scenes I recognized,
Casablanca
,
Meet Me in St. Louis
, but most of them were from movies I’d never seen
. 

White lights swirled as couples danced
around the stage
,
embracing each other lovingly,
reinforcing the theme of the song. 
Chris’s voice was
strong yet sincere
, and the
performance was mind-blowing.

The camera zoomed in on one lucky fan in the front row.  Chris reached out and touched her
outstretched fingers as he sang. 
The girl broke out in tears and mouthed, “I love you, Chris.”  He winked at her before letting go of her hand.

“What a comeback!” yelled Eddie after Chris had finished.  “Don’t get me wrong, last week was very good, but this performance was on a completely different level.  By far the best of the night.”

Chris beamed. 
People in the audience stood, waving
poster-sized portraits
of Chris’s face.

He was really doing it, really making a name for himself, and I was thrilled to death for him.  I was so excited that I couldn’t wait to tell him, so I grabbed my cell and sent a text:

That was brilliant!  I absolutely l
oved it!

I was sure he would be too busy to get the message anytime soon,
if my
stupid
phone even let it go through,
so I was surprised when my phone
buzzed
not two minutes later.

Thx
!
 
U
get a new phone?

I laughed out loud and typed:

Nope.  It just decided to work.  It must like you tonight
.

He responded with:

Lucky me! 
Wanna stop by
4
the farewell party?  We can celebrate.

There was no denying that I wanted to.  I really wanted to.  It was probably a good thing I was already pinned down.  I was so hyped up there was no telling what I was capable of doing if Chris were around. 

Sorry, got Molly

He didn’t respond, so I wasn’t sure if that last message went through or not.

***

The rest of the week couldn’t pass by quickly enough.  I was excited to go out with Chris, although I wasn’t entirely sure if it was an actual date or just two people having dinner.  I was also frustrated with myself.  Despite my best efforts at keeping my feelings checked, a big part of me hoped for a romantic evening.  Why was I no longer satisfied with the idea of just being friends?

Emily was digging through my wardrobe by the time I got home Friday.  Half the contents of my closet were strewn out across my bed.  In one hand she held a hanger with a black skirt, and in the other, a pair of jeans.  Several camis were draped across her forearm
,
and a green shirt was slung over her shoulder.  A look of intense concentration covered her face. 

“Okay, I think I’ve got it,” she said when I walked in and
frowned
at the mess.  She dumped her handful of clothes on my bed and held up a pair of dark
,
boot-cut denim jeans with an emerald colored baby doll blouse.  “What do you think?”

“It’s pretty.”  I fingered the light fabric of the shirt and was sure I’d never seen it before.  “Where did it come from?”

She grinned.  “I found it yesterday.  It was on a sales rack outside of
Macys. 
I
thought it would be perfect
.” 

“Aww thanks.”  I gave her a quick hug and held the shirt in front of my figure, turning before the mirror. 
The color looked nice against my fair skin. 
“That was really sweet of you.”

“Hey, no problem.  I’m not all that charitable though.  It’s a medium, so it should fit us both.” 

I laugh
ed
at her resourcefulness.

After getting dressed
I put in a pair of sparkly earrings and picked up my silver charm bracelet.  Mom
had given
it to me on my sixteenth birthday, along with other charms throughout the years to celebrate special occasions- birthdays, holidays, graduation- that sort of stuff.  There were a lot of memories on that delicate little chain.  I toyed with the charms and swallowed a wave of bittersweet emotion as I clasped it to my wrist.

It was six-
thirty, and Chris wasn’t due until seven.  I star
ed at the disaster in my room.  I
t looked like my closet had exploded.  Emily was watching the news, and Molly was qu
iet, so I slipped in my earbuds
and
turned on my mp3 player
.  Journey’s
Open Arms
was playing.  It was Mom’s favorite song, one that always brought on a rush of tender feelings, and I sang along as I folded and put away the shirts that we
re scattered across the bed.

I turned around to grab a skirt hanging
from
my bedpost and saw Chris leaning in the doorway.  He had his arms folded across his chest and looked like he’d been standing there awhile.  He was really grinning. 

I dropped the skirt, yanked out the earbuds, and felt the blood rise in my cheeks.

He clapped as h
e stepped into my room.  “Wow!  T
hat was impressive.”

I squeezed my eyes tightly, trying to hide my embarrassment.  “We can’t all be Superstars.”

He looked around my
room.  It was still a disaster. 
I had barely put a dent in the pile of clothes.  “No really, that was…” he looked to the ceiling as he searched for the right word.  “Something.  Really something.” 

I pursed my lips.  “You’re early.” 

His grin only widened.  “Emily let me in.  Are you ready?  Or do you need more time to rehearse?”  He gestured at my
purple mp3 player
.  “I could give you some pointers.
”
 
A sexy smile played on his lips.  “
We could
even
call it a private lesson.
  It wouldn’t cost you too much.
”
 
He held his hands up and laughed
when I rolled my eyes
.  “I’m just kidding!  You ready to go?” 

We said goodbye to Emily and Molly and
stepped into
the elevator.
 
The atmosphere changed as soon as the doors closed, electricity charging the air. 
I peeked up
and caught him looking at me.

“You look nice,” he said.
  “Is your ankle all healed?”  He glanced at my feet.  I was wearing black leather flats- two of them.

“
It’s better, t
hanks. 
I still have my boot but decided it didn’t exactly compliment my outfit.
” 

He looked at me and smiled, but his posture was stiff as he leaned against the back of the elevator.  His forefinger stroked
his lower lip.

I bit down on the inside of mine.

The elevator seemed to be taking longer than usu
al to get to the ground floor.
 
I
focused
on my breathing.  In…out.  In…
out. 
His cologne filled my nostrils, a spicy, masculine scent.  “You smell
really
good.”
 
Did I just say that out loud?

He snickered.  “I’m glad you think so.”

The doors pulled o
pen, and I darted out.  I sucked
in a lungful of
the crisp
air
,
trying to clear away the lusty
thoughts that filled my mind
.

“Over here,”
he
motioned for me to follow him to the side of the building.

I stopped short when I saw a sleek, black motorcycle.  “Wow.”

He stood beside it and ran a finger across the smooth leather seat.  “What do you think?” 

“It’s beautiful, really.”  I eyed him skeptically.  “And you plan on driving this tonight?”  I reached out to touch the handlebar
,
but pulled back, afraid it might tip over. 

He laughed and handed me a helmet.  “Oh
,
come on.  It’ll be fun.  It doesn’t bite.” 

“I’ve never ridden a motorcycle before.”  The idea was thrilling and frightening at the same time.

“All the more fun.  Come on,” he urged as he climbed on.  “Don’t you trust me?”

He wasn’t the one I didn’t trust.

I took an uneasy breath.  Glad I’d worn pants, I mounted the bike and wrapped my arms around his waist.  He brought the engine to a thunderous roar, and I squeezed him tightly and leaned in a little closer,
pushing my chest
against his back.  With my eyes squeezed shut, he pulled away from the building and accelerated down the street. 

At first I was anxious, but the chilly air felt refreshing as it rushed against my skin
.  S
oon enough
,
I found the whole experience exhilarating.  It was total freedom- like I was
flying.  Every once in a while
he reached back and gave my leg a reassuring pat.  I
grinned
the whole way
, enjoying the ride, but loving even more that it offered me an excuse to be so close to Chris.

He drove to Bucktown, a neighborhood north of the city, and brought the machi
ne to a stop in front of a flat-
fronted brick building.  He slid into a parking spot, cut the engine, and helped me down. 

I took off the helmet and shook out my hair.  “That was amazing!”