Life In Reverse

by Beth Michele

  He reaches across the table, his hand covering mine. “I know you’re not. That’s one of the reasons I lo—admire you so much. Your straightforwardness and how you care.” His eyes bounce around in thought before returning to me. “And if he hadn’t come back?” I shake my head to give him my answer. Because the truth is, Vance coming back only brought things to light sooner. Grant gets up from his chair to stand beside me at the table, leaning down to kiss my cheek. “If he ever hurts you though, I’ll have to…,” he glances around the restaurant then back to me, “… kick his ass or something. You know that, right?”

  I laugh and take his other hand in mine. “If he ever hurts me, I’m going to kick his ass.”

  He chuckles and squeezes my hand before returning to his side of the table, surprising me when he sits down. “Can we still have dinner together? I’d like to. Above all else, we’re friends, right?”

  His sincerity overwhelms me. It makes this that much harder, even though it feels right. I nod, my voice cracking. “Yes, absolutely.”

  We both pick up our menus, my mind and heart lighter than before. As I browse the vast selection of food, I can sense Grant’s stare back on me.

  “But if you ever change your mind?” I glance up to sadness I’m the cause of, and my stomach hardens. I give him a soft smile. “Okay,” he shrugs, “I had to take a shot. Because you never know when you might get another one.”

  Truer words have never been spoken.

  AS I FUMBLE with my keys, attempting to juggle my briefcase, purse, and of course the roses, the door opens.

  “Hi, love.” A familiar voice greets me and I look up to discover my best friend, here, in the flesh. I squeal, dropping everything except for the flowers and throw my arms around his neck.

  “If I had known I was going to get this kind of reception, I would’ve come a lot sooner.” I pull back just enough to smack a big kiss on Troy’s cheek and he grins. “Wait. That sounded weird.”

  “Do you have any idea how happy I am to see you?”

  His lips slant upward and he brings a hand from around my waist, pinching his thumb and forefinger together. “This much?” He backs out of my grip, waving me in. “How ‘bout I let you inside so we can catch up from last week.” He eyes my expression. “Because it looks like we have a lot of catching up to do.”

  “Here.” I press the flowers against his chest. “Hold these and follow me while I find a vase, and you can tell me what you’re doing here.”

  “I’m off for a few days and wanted to surprise my best friend. Done. Your turn,” he volleys back. “Grant usually sends you orchids, right?”

  I lean against the counter. “Right. But Grant didn’t buy these for me. Vance did.”

  “Told ya,” Avery chimes in. She struts into the kitchen decked out in a low-cut black dress with matching boots, her blonde hair pulled tight into a sleek ponytail.

  “You look like Catwoman,” I tease, and she growls, curling her fingers into a claw.

  “I’m on the prowl, what can I say?” She slides a chair out from the table, making herself comfortable in our discussion. “So what were we talking about?”

  “We,” Troy points a finger between us, “were talking about Vance and—”

  “I’ve already filled Troy in on the latest with you,” she interjects and I glare at her. “What? He’s your best friend and he asked,” she shrugs, “I had to answer.”

  Troy grabs a chair and joins Avery in their not-so-subtle interrogation. “First of all, what’s the deal with Grant? You’re dating both of them?”

  I remove the vase from a cabinet underneath the sink, turning on the tap to fill it with water before facing them again. “You know I can’t date two guys at once.”

  “Sign me up for that,” Avery counters as she reclines back, stretching her long legs under the table.

  Troy folds his hands on top of his head. “If I wanted to be confused, I could’ve stayed in Oregon. Someone tell me what’s going on.”

  Not wanting to drag this out, I grab a pair of scissors from the drawer then set the vase on the table. “I broke up with Grant,” I admit, casually trimming the ends of the roses before placing them in water. Talk about opposite ends of the spectrum. Troy frowns, while Avery’s lips stretch into a pleased grin as if she’s been waiting for this to happen.

  “But he’s so nice,” Troy remarks. Now I’m frowning, guilt swirling around my stomach though I know it was the right decision.

  “He is nice.”

  “He’s too nice.” Avery throws her opinion into the ring. “He doesn’t challenge her. He’s, you know, boring?” She glances up at me with a knowing smile. “Nail meet head. No need to say anything more.”

  I snort. “You. Need. Help.”

  “How did he take it, Ems?” Troy asks. “I know it’s only been months. But still, you guys were friends before, and he told you he wanted to spend the rest of his life with you.”

  Mixed emotion stirs, drawing out a sigh. “I know.” I twist to the side, resting my hip against the table. “He was great about it actually. Very gracious… very Grant.”

  “Of course. Because he’s so… nice,” Avery emphasizes with a smirk.

  Troy lets his hand fall to the table and picks up a broken stem, twirling it between his fingers. “And Vance?”

  Just like that, my heart races. “He wants another chance and I’m thinking maybe we both deserve one. But there’s this whole other part of me that says, what am I supposed to do? Fall into his arms like he didn’t hurt me and it hasn’t been three years?” Avery kicks her chair back and stands, rising on tiptoe as she darts a glance over my shoulder. “What are you looking for?”

  “The rules. I didn’t realize there were any when it came to the heart.” She holds out her hands in a sweeping gesture. “Please, do enlighten me.” I scowl, but all it does is make her grin. As usual, she has a strong point.

  “Yeah, what she said,” Troy seconds, and the three of us laugh until my stomach hurts.

  Avery swipes a finger across her cheek. “I’ll be right back. I need to fix my makeup.” She sashays out of the room and I stare at Troy.

  He slides off the seat. “What?”

  My eyes scan his body then return to his face. “Something is different. You’ve been spending more time than usual at the gym?”

  His mouth edges up at the corner. “No.”

  “What then?”

  He leans his weight on the chair, arms resting over the back. “My parents came over yesterday.”

  “What?”

  “Believe me. I’m just as surprised as you are.” He flips the chair around and sits backwards, exhaling a sigh. “We talked. Actually, they talked and I listened.”

  “And?”

  “They apologized and my mother cried a lot. She said things.”

  I move closer, placing a hand on his forearm. “Like?”

  “Like they don’t care what my sexual orientation is, or who I date, or what I decide to do with my life. She said, ‘In your heart, you’re our son, and that’s the only thing that matters. That’s the only thing that should’ve mattered.’” Emotion gathers in my chest and I touch my fingertips to my throat. “You’re not going to cry on me now, are you? I don’t think I can handle any more tears.”

  I shake my head. “No. I’m just… happy. Everything is changing.”

  “It is.” Troy smiles at me with a lightness I haven’t seen in him for years. “And we can change with it, Ems. We can choose forgiveness.”

  Avery comes back then, my mind stuck on his last few words. She pauses, inspecting my face. “Now what?”

  My eyes briefly land on Troy before wandering to the calendar on the wall. The word Tuesday in big block letters glares at me. “What, is that we’re going out.” Troy and Avery’s gaze burns up the side of my cheek as I position the flowers in the center of the table.

  “Care to tell us where we’re going exactly?” Avery latches onto Troy’s arm and hauls him to his feet.

/>   “We’re going to Blue Monday.” My stomach flutters and I glance down at my clothing, thankful I changed out of my dress before I met up with Grant. I don’t want to waste any more time.

  “What’s Blue Monday?” Troy asks as I shuffle them out the door.

  Where I’ll find my heart.

  THE CAB DRIVER speeds through the streets of New York, weaving and bobbing around cars and buses, nearly hitting a few pedestrians. Normally, my heart would be in my throat. But not tonight. Tonight the clouds carry me. Anticipation, not fear, fills me, reminding me of something Zack used to say before he’d go off on one of his crazy adventures. ‘Em, it’s always the three A’s—Anticipation, Adrenaline, Adventure.’” I feel like that right now. As if I’m about to embark on a new adventure, setting my life on a different course—one that certainly wouldn’t be the same without Vance Davenport in it. I know that now. I think I’ve always known that.

  “Jesus,” Troy mutters as we exit the taxi. “Every time I visit you, I remember how you seriously take your life into your hands in those things. I’d prefer to walk next time and keep my balls intact.”

  “Ha.” Avery barks out a laugh, glancing up at the neon blue sign. “So are you going to tell us what we’re doing at Blue Monday on a Tuesday?”

  “Ba da bum,” Troy adds in and Avery pokes him.

  We link elbows, making our way into the bar. We’re barely in the door when I hear Vance’s voice. It floats around us and a rush of goose bumps cascade down my arms. My eyes drift toward the sound, pulse picking up when I catch my first glimpse of him on stage. His eyes are closed, lips parted, deft fingers that left a mark on my skin strumming the guitar. He sends the lyrics into the air and I have to steady myself with a deep breath. He looks beautiful like that, as if he is one with the music.

  “And I didn’t know about this, why?” Avery stares me down, clearly as affected by his performance as I am. Well, not quite.

  “Ditto, and holy shit.” Troy echoes my sister as they gang up against me… again. Round aqua lights hanging overhead drape the bar and their smug faces in a shadowy blue haze.

  “It’s not like I’ve been holding back. I just found out myself.”

  Mesmerized, our attention travels to the band. Next to Vance, Chris plays a pretty impressive bass guitar. Toward the back, another guy plays keyboard and someone else is on drums.

  Mainly though, my gaze is glued to Vance. The way his upper body sways to the music, his soul on display. My spine tingles with tiny jolts of electricity. As if he knows, he opens his eyes. Somehow in the near darkness, I sense he spotted me—because a grin sweeps clear across his face, spreading warmth over my skin like a blanket. I smile right back, my lips not leaving me any other choice. That’s the only thing they want to do when he’s around.

  “We’re gonna go get some drinks,” Avery shouts. “What do you want?”

  “Huh?” I snap out of my daze. “Oh, just a glass of wine.”

  She grimaces like I didn’t quite understand her question. “This isn’t a wine kind of a place, Em. I’ll get you something else.”

  As soon as they walk away, my attention goes back to the stage. I might not read books, but I’ve watched enough movies to know this feels a lot like one of those scenes—where two people catch each other’s eyes across the room—where everything around them disappears and all that exists is a crazy, out of control heartbeat that makes you want to run into their arms.

  Fortunately, the song comes to a close. Vance sets his guitar down, stepping off the stage and stalking toward me. People clap him on the back and utter various praises but his eyes never leave mine. My cheeks feel flush, body overheating from the attention.

  I want him to move faster.

  When he finally reaches me, I lick my dry lips and try to swallow. Sweat clings to his t-shirt, his face, his neck—but I’m the one who might melt. Thoughts of tasting the salt from his skin make my knees weak.

  He searches my face. “You’re here.”

  “I am.”

  He lifts his hand as if to reach for me, but then lets it drop. “I’m surprised. I didn’t expect to see you.”

  I shrug. All the words I planned to say disappear and I’m left with the wrong ones. “I wanted to hear you sing.”

  He glances around the bar then back to me. “Are you alone?”

  “No.” His expression falls and I’m quick to clarify. “I’m here with Avery and Troy. Troy surprised me by coming in tonight.”

  His smile returns and he exhales, warm breath feathering across my cheek. A body comes out of nowhere and crashes into me, nearly spilling a drink all over my shirt. Vance grips my shoulders and pulls me close. Blue eyes full of everything I’ve missed blaze into mine. “I’m really glad you’re here.”

  My mouth is unable to form an immediate response. The way he’s looking at me traps the words in my throat. “You… were… amazing out there.” I try not to stare at the wisps of hair wet against his forehead, his feverish skin, damp lips.

  “Thanks. I—”

  “Well, well.” Avery comes up behind him. “If it isn’t Vance Davenport.” He turns and Avery throws her arms around his neck, winking at me over his shoulder. She draws back after a minute. “You were hot shit up there.”

  “Thanks.” Vance offers his hand to Troy. “Good to see you again, man.”

  “Likewise.” Troy shakes it then lifts his drink. “You want to head to the bar? I’ll buy you a beer.”

  Vance flicks his gaze to me, eyes roaming my face. “No thanks. I’m good right here.” Controlling my grin isn’t an option, so I don’t bother trying. Nor do I bother covering up the blush spreading over my cheeks like wildfire.

  “Hey, Ember.” Chris appears beside Vance and slaps him on the shoulder. “N-nice to see you again.”

  “You too.” I point a finger toward my partners in crime. “This is my sister, Avery, and my best friend, Troy. This is Chris.”

  The rest of the band follows behind and after all the introductions are made, we head to a table. Vance sticks close to me as if he’s afraid I might disappear. Little does he know, I’m not going anywhere.

  Conversation flows and laughter ensues, but I can barely concentrate on anything except Vance’s proximity. He’s dragged his chair closer, our shoulders practically touching now. The smell of sweat and soap, and everything I’ve missed about him bleeds into my space, and I find myself breathing him in until it makes me dizzy. Every now and then I can feel him watching me, his gaze warming the side of my cheek. It makes me want to lean into him, bury my head in that spot between his neck and his shoulder.

  “Dance with me,” he murmurs against my ear, making me shiver. The reality that we’re here together sinking in.

  “But you don’t dance,” I whisper back, teasing.

  “For you, I’ll fucking dance.” He growls words that are full of fire, disarming me until I’m a puddle at his feet. Three years of hidden longing surfaces and I get up from the chair, taking his hand. I stare at the way our palms slide together, fingers entwined, remembering the first time he took my hand and held it. A smile explodes on my face as he leads me to the almost nonexistent dance floor. We’re Forgiven by The Calling plays through the speakers.

  Our gazes collide and he has that same smile in his eyes that I’m wearing on my lips. Strong arms slip around my waist, my hands gliding up the rigid planes of his stomach to drape around his neck. My head rests against his firm chest, his heart beating steadily under my cheek. His scent and the warmth of his body engulfs me. I close my eyes and try to breathe, keenly aware of all the places we’re touching, of how connected we are. Even after all these years, we still fit like two pieces of a puzzle. Nothing feels forced about the way our bodies move together—the sway of our hips, the pace of our feet—and I’m floating.

  “Ember,” he whispers against my ear. I’m afraid to look up at him, scared he’ll see everything—how much my heart has missed him, how much I want him. “Ember. Look at me,” he
whispers again, and I blink my eyes open and lift my chin. His gaze is searing, cutting through all the things we haven’t said, all the time that’s passed. I can see it clearly in those eyes that captivated me from the moment I first stared into them—that nothing has changed for him either. He cups my cheek in the warmth of his palm. “Go out with me.”

  “We are out,” I counter, my pulse racing too fast.

  “On a date.” His mouth curves. “Go out on a date with me. You know you want to.” His grin widens and my fingers flex against his shirt with the desire to touch him; his hair, his jaw, his lips.

  “Still so cocky.”

  “Always.” His whole face brightens. “Is that a yes?”

  My eyes map the soft lines of his face and I nod. “Yes.”

  “When?” he asks without hesitation, and I let out a breathless laugh because even anxious, he’s adorable.

  “Whenever you want.”

  “Tomorrow night,” he suggests right away, as if he can’t wait a minute longer. I nod again, my head finding his chest once more. “Tomorrow,” he breathes into my ear, and my toes curl inside my sneakers.

  I didn’t want to sleep tonight anyway.

  TOMORROW.

  A concept I never gave a shit about until I met Ember. Now I want to fill all my tomorrows with her, and the spaces in between too.

  My mother’s stone sits heavy in my hand, the weight of missing her bears down on me. Still, I’m uplifted. Maybe it’s knowing I’m going to see Ember tonight. Or maybe it’s because I know how much my mother would have loved her, evidenced by that one day they met. I picture them sitting down over coffee, talking about art, laughing together. The thought brings a smile to my face and settles me somehow. It dawns on me how Ember is like the river—how she calms me and brings me a sense of peace. One I haven’t had for quite some time.

  The stone finds its way to the familiar spot at the bottom of my pocket. I grab my wallet off the dresser and tuck it inside the lining of my leather jacket. As I run a hand through my hair, I take one last glance in the mirror, unable to recognize the guy staring back at me. But for once, I actually think that’s a good thing.