by Caisey Quinn
Our food arrives and the conversation is temporarily halted. My nerves are too tightly wound in my stomach to enjoy eating.
Mandy is the picture of sleek sophistication and while I can’t tell yet how she feels about me, I feel certain that all of my hopes and dreams are pinned on her. Whether or not she signs us will determine what my plans are come fall. I’m slightly tempted to throw myself at her feet and beg if that’s what it takes to seal the deal, but that probably isn’t the best strategy. So I eat quietly and nod and smile each time she shares information with us about how she’s helped her clients’ careers.
Once we’re finished eating and the plates have been cleared, Dallas leans toward us. “Mandy has the same vision for our future that I do. Y’all have always trusted me to make these types of decisions and she knows of an opening in a major showcase that she can get us into the day after this festival. If it doesn’t work out, then we’ll know. But I think we should give her a chance to show us what she can do for the band.”
I take a deep breath and let my eyes slide briefly over to Gavin before returning to my brother’s expectant stare.
“I trust you, Dallas,” I tell him quietly. I do trust him, and I think he is capable of making good decisions for the band. But I’m about to do something behind his back that he isn’t going to like at all. And then we are going to play our very first showcase the very next day. “If you think this is what’s best then I’m in.”
Mandy smiles brightly at me and I return the gesture.
“Me, too,” Gavin says, side-eyeing me. “But I’d rather not sign anything until after the showcase. Let’s see what happens; if we get some interest, we can have Mandy help us out if she’s still on board after our performance.”
“I will be,” Mandy pipes up. “And the issue won’t be whether or not you get any interest, it will be trying to sort through the many offers coming your way.”
The budding sprout of hope grows to a full bloom at the confidence shining in her eyes.
Goodbye, orchestra pit.
Mandy accompanies us to Sixth Street and hangs around while we warm up. Once we’re ready, we play to a decent-sized crowd outside one of the most popular bars on Sixth Street. I’m able to glance backward a few times and watch Gavin play, his beautifully inked body bathed in the blue of neon lights from the surrounding signs as he takes out his aggression on his kit.
My brother is wholeheartedly giving this show his all, strutting around the stage like an overly confident peacock. I have a feeling the extra ass shaking and crowd eye-screwing has to do with the woman in the front row, but I’ll be keeping my opinions to myself. Opportunity has knocked and thy name is Mandy.
I let go of my fears about not being enough for Gavin, sweep aside my concerns about whether or not we’ll end up signing with Mandy Lantram, and ignore my brother’s strutting across the stage, and just play. I am the music.
None of that matters as I stroke my bow across the strings. All that matters in this moment is the melody, this experience we’re creating.
When it’s over, we bow to applause and wish the audience a good night. I follow my brother offstage and we make our way to where Mandy is standing texting on her phone.
“Great news,” she says once we’ve stepped far enough from where the next band has taken the stage and begun to play. “The Indie Music Review is doing a human interest piece on bands playing in the festival. A reporter will be by to interview the three of you tomorrow.”
“Wow, that’s amazing.” The high from performing still has me barely touching the ground. “Whatever you did to make that happen, thank you.”
Dallas gives us the specific time to be at rehearsal for the interview, and then bursts my hyped-up bubble by telling us we’re going to head back to the hotel so we can get plenty of sleep tonight.
Gavin and I lag a few steps behind Mandy and my brother while they discuss possible interview questions.
Leaning down until his mouth is level with my ear, he says, “Looks like we aren’t the only ones considering crossing some lines.” His arms grazes softly against mine, sending a trail of warmth sparking down it.
I glance over and see Mandy smiling her toothpaste commercial smile at my brother. Dallas is grinning and nodding and using his hands to tell her an animated story about a show we performed recently where the stage was behind a Plexiglas wall due to the fact that the patrons tended to throw things. Not necessarily the tale I’d be regaling her with if I wanted to impress her, but Dallas was so proud that we were the only act that night that didn’t have to dodge beer bottles.
I grin and return my attention to Gavin, vaguely aware that the bottom of my stomach drops out when his eyes meet mine.
“Is that all we’re doing? Considering crossing them?”
Before he answers, Dallas tells us to get a move on. The conversation remains behind us.
Chapter 13
“LICK,” I SAY WHEN HE OPENS HIS DOOR.
Gavin’s eyes widen. “What?”
“Lick,” I repeat, peering past him into the boys’ slovenly room and enjoying the way his pupils widen, an ethereal glow illuminating them as his heated eyes latch on to mine. “The ice cream place. I want to go there.”
After our show I changed into jeans and a plain white tank top because as cute as my boots were, my ankles were in serious danger of snapping. But I couldn’t just sit restlessly in my room.
Gavin checks the leather cuff that contains his watch. “Okay. Should we wait for Dallas?”
We both turn toward where he stands below us in the parking lot discussing the plans for tomorrow and the showcase with Mandy. I don’t really think my brother would actually cross any lines with her because he’s always been a business-first type. But I’m glad they have chemistry and that she’s taking us seriously.
“Um, I think he’s probably going to be busy for a while.” I send up a silent prayer that we don’t screw it up this time, that Gavin and I can manage getting dessert without turning it into an argument and ruining our plans for Friday night. “We could ask them to join us.”
Gavin calls out and asks if they want to come with us, but they wave us off.
“Don’t be out too late,” my brother cautions.
“Yes, Dad. We’ll be back by curfew,” I say before turning to smile at Mandy. “It was fantastic meeting you. I hope you enjoyed the show.”
“I did,” she says, nodding. “I’ll be here the rest of the week checking out a few bands but I’ll see you three tomorrow at the interview.”
“Sounds good,” Gavin says with an odd lilt to his voice. “You ready, Dixie?”
I nod, knowing that Gavin is probably nervous about the interview. Public speaking of any kind has never been his thing.
“Gav?” I say after a few minutes of walking in silence because the high from performing hasn’t worn off yet and I can’t just keep quiet.
He turns toward me. “Yeah?”
“Are you worried about the interview?”
He’s quiet for a long string of seconds, then he shrugs. “Nah. No reason to be. Why? Are you?”
“I just have this feeling that this is bigger than the fair, bigger than anything we’ve done before. I think things are about to change. The band, us, everything.”
He slows long enough to give me a questioning glance. “You’ve always known Dallas wanted to go to Nashville. Is that scaring you now that it seems like a real possibility?”
I shake my head. “No. I’m thrilled about that. This is my dream, too, you know. I might not pursue it as aggressively as my brother, but it is.”
Gavin nods. “I get that. It’s mine, too, I guess. I just never thought of it as a dream—more like the only thing I’m good at.”
“That’s not true,” I tell him quietly.
He shrugs. “Not all changes are good, Bluebird. You want to rethink the whole one-night thing?”
Hell no.
“Do you?”
He stares straight ahead,
his profile revealing nothing as we walk. He doesn’t speak again until I feel like I’m going to scream. The tension strung tightly between us feels like it’s wrapping around my neck.
“I agreed to it. So I’d think the answer to that would be obvious.”
The relief whooshes through me and I can’t contain my smile.
He cuts his eyes to me and grins. “I’m almost nervous when you look at me like that. What have you got in store for me, little Bluebird? Some Fifty Shades fantasy you can’t wait to play out with a willing participant?”
My heart quickens its pace at his naughty suggestion. “Gavin Garrison, have you been reading mommy porn?”
He chuckles and holds the door open for me. I walk inside the vibrantly colored and brightly lit ice cream parlor and glance over my shoulder at him. Part of me feels like every moment with him is a dream, something I’m lying in bed alone and imagining, instead of an experience I’m actually living.
Holding fire, I realize as we get in line. This is my brief time to hold the flames that will destroy me, burn me to ash, and scatter my soul in the wind. It’s that split second when the heat first hits, mercifully numbing the nerves before they alert the brain to the pain.
Several high-school-aged girls in front of us suddenly can’t concentrate on the flavors before them. They’re too busy giggling and glancing back at Gavin. He’s tall, dark, and still slightly sweat soaked from performing. His eyes are bright under the lights and his ink is alive with each movement of his arms. I can’t blame them. I look up at him and he doesn’t even notice. His eyes are focused on the display of flavors.
My mind slips back in time to the first time we had ice cream together. It was Gavin’s first time to ever have it and he swore it was heaven in his mouth. I’d bought it from the ice cream truck with change I’d saved up from my lunch money and shared with him. His eyes had closed and I’d fallen in love with him a little more that day. The boy who knew and understood the importance of savoring something sweet—because pleasure like that was rare—the same way that I did. My heart had broken wide open knowing that he’d lived twelve years and no one had ever given him ice cream. He’d moved into that broken place in my heart and remained there ever since.
“If I get sweet cream and strawberry, will you get—”
“Yeah, yeah,” he says. “You know I will.”
Gavin places a hand on the small of my back, and I’m smiling so hard at the guy taking our order he probably thinks I live for ice cream. Or I need to lower my dose.
We order and pay and walk out into the street with our desserts. I take a bite and sigh as the cool sweetness melts on my tongue and slides down my throat.
“So do you think Mandy will make an official offer?”
Gavin swallows his ice cream. “Seems like a distinct possibility.”
“Seems like an awfully big risk.”
Gavin gives me a questioning look and I hear what he doesn’t say. I’ve been an advocate of risks lately.
“Forget it,” I mutter, digging back into my two scoops. We come to a crosswalk and wait for the signal to change.
“No, I hear you. Any decisions we make that affect the band will affect all of us. Life is one big risk. You can’t really avoid them. No matter how hard you try.”
Once we’ve made it safely to the other side of the street, I slow my pace. “Am I supposed to be listening between the lines?”
Gavin tilts his head as if trying to determine what I mean. Understanding hoods his gaze and he silences me with unspoken words.
Shaking his head, he picks up speed. “If you’re this worried about how wrong everything can go, why do you want to do this?”
“This meaning the music or you?”
“Both.”
I take my time letting my ice cream melt in my mouth and then lick my lips. He watches me closely and I’m suddenly very aware that we’re not alone. The streets are busy, people still enjoying Austin nightlife.
“I guess,” I begin, lowering my voice and leaning toward him, “I expect it to be worth it.”
My words hang heavily in the air between us.
“Ready to switch?” Gavin says, straightening his back and handing his cup of chocolate over to me when we enter the hotel lobby.
“Sure.” I give him mine, our fingers grazing as he takes the cup. The electricity from the charged connection zaps my mind blank and all I can focus on is the need building inside of me. Somehow we’ve reached the elevator, but I don’t want to walk away yet.
Surely our one night will cure me of this. It has to. Because nothing could be worse than wanting and not knowing exactly what it is that I want.
“You’re going to have to stop it with those looks or whether or not Mandy Lantram signs us is going to be the least of our problems.”
“What looks?”
Gavin is staring intently at me with careful restraint in his eyes. Has he been talking to me and I missed it?
He takes a huge bite and I have to wait for him to finish it before he answers me. He shifts his body weight forward, leaning into my space as we wait for the elevator.
“You give me these looks sometimes—like that one,” he points his spoon at me. “Your eyes go dark and right now, without Dallas or anyone else around to stop me, all I can think is how good this ice cream would taste if I was licking it off your body instead of this plastic spoon.”
He shrugs like he didn’t just send me up in a flaming inferno of need. I flew too close, got burned, and now I want more.
The elevator opens and I walk inside and jab the button displaying the number of my floor. Just mine, not his. He watches me, the surprise evident on his face.
He stands with confusion pulling his features inward. “Dixie, what are you—”
I will make it impossible for him to say no, somehow. I have five floors on the elevator to figure it out. My heart rises into my throat as we make our way upward.
Taking his hand without permission, I pull him from the car the second the doors open. I let go long enough to retrieve my key card from my bra and slam it into the slot on the door. Thankfully it cooperates, and we enter my darkened room. The curtains are open and the streetlamps provide enough of a glow that I can see my way to the bed.
I place my ice cream on the bedside table and lift my tank top slowly over my head. Facing Gavin in my jeans and strapless black satin bra, I sit down tentatively on the edge of the mattress. I’m waiting for him to grab me, to hand my shirt back to me, and tell me to stop this nonsense right this instant. But he doesn’t. His eyes are lit from somewhere inside of him, shining brightly with desire, and he’s staring intently in a way that I would mistake for anger, but he’s still here. He’s not running or storming out.
“You know what I love about music, Gavin?” I say softly, leaning back slightly on my elbows.
He says nothing, but his eyes meet mine and I force myself not to shrink away from the fevered stare engulfing me.
“I love that you can’t pin it down, can’t control it. Music is free. It’s unpredictable and alive. You can’t own it or buy it or sell it. Not really. No matter how hard people try. It belongs to no one.”
“Like you,” he says evenly.
“Like us,” I answer. “No one can control us, Gavin. No one can stop us if this is what we want. If you want to eat ice cream off my body, then you damn well should. Life is short. Ask my parents.”
The mention of my parents breaks his impenetrable barrier and his mouth gapes open when I lie down on the bed. He stands above me and I see the fleeting thoughts of retreat flickering in his eyes.
So I let my head fall back as I close my eyes, and I wait.
Ice-cold ribbons scorch a pattern onto my bare flesh when he lets the mostly melted ice cream drizzle onto my stomach. My back arches off the bed and I allow a tiny shocked whimper to escape my lips. When my eyes fly open I see him standing above me, watching me writhe beneath him.
“Gavin.”
“Cold,
Bluebird?”
He kneels between my thighs and I take advantage of the opportunity to drive my fingers through his hair. His tongue is liquid fire lapping up his—well, technically my—dessert as I shiver beneath him. Pressing his warm palms against my hips, a tortured moan escapes the back of his throat. My eyes want to slam shut but I wrench them open so that I can watch Gavin’s beautiful body moving between mine. His hands slide lower, his fingers pressing hard into my thighs as if he’s holding me down, denting deeper with each stroke of his tongue.
All I can think is, Gavin’s mouth is on my stomach. Where do we even go from here?
Before I can ask, he unbuttons my jeans and uses a hand to drag them down my hips. As if he can’t wait the two seconds it would take to remove them completely, he presses his lips to the fabric of my panties.
A moan that sounds like pleasure mixed with an attempt at his name breaks free. I’ve never had anyone’s mouth there.
“Want me to stop?” His eyes lift to mine and I shake my head. No.
The ache between my legs becomes more insistent, turning to a steady pulsating throb as he removes my panties and drops them to the floor with my jeans. My body jerks forward when his tongue parts my folded flesh. Gavin growls against my sensitive skin and I gasp.
“You taste even better than ice cream, Bluebird.” Scorching circles of wet heat blank my mind of any fears or insecurities of concerns I might have had about him being so intimately acquainted with my body. By the time he dips his tongue into my opening all I want is more. All I can think about is how to get him closer, deeper.
I’m thrusting against his mouth and moaning in pleasure when I feel it. The pressure has reached its peak and I need him inside. Now.
“Gavin. Oh,” I bite out when he pulls my clit into his mouth. The room spins around us and I can’t slow it down.
“Yeah, baby?”
“I need you. I need you inside me,” I tell him breathlessly. “Please.”
“Soon,” he promises, sliding a finger into my slick opening.
“Oh God. Oh my God. Don’t stop.” I’m both desperate and demanding. When he thrusts another finger into me I lose my grip on my sanity and am flung over the edge of oblivion.