Love Exactly

by Cassandra Giovanni

  I looked up at him and couldn’t help but smile at his eyebrows risen over the top of the menu. Him. I wanted him, so very badly.

  “Ice cream sundaes,” I finally said.

  “Ice cream sundaes it is.”

  The only issue was the fact I was thinking about smothering him in the hot syrup. I gave him a weak smile and closed my eyes as I tried to wash the image away. Now I was the one who needed a cold shower.

  Chapter 11

  Waking up as Evan sung in the bathroom next to me was something I could get used to. The sun was rising over the city, and I found myself wrapping the blanket around my body and heading to the balcony. I left the door open so I could hear Evan’s song and leaned over the rail with a smile on my face. The dew wet my arms, but I didn’t care as I heard Evan’s voice coming out of the bathroom and cease.

  “Don’t stop,” I said, not turning but knowing he was walking up to me by the sound of his muffled footsteps.

  He wrapped his arms around my waist, and I leaned my head back against his warm chest as he began to sing to me in the softest voice. I knew the song as if it was a part of me.

  “I love Sting,” I whispered when the song ended.

  “I know…you have all of his CD’s,” he replied as he began to sing another song. He spun me around and twirled me, taking one of my hands into his and placing his other on my lower back. He swayed me back and forth to the song, making me smile so much my face hurt. The blanket fell as he spun me again, dipping me down as he kissed me once before continuing with the song.

  “How do you know I have all his CD’s?”

  “You practically have a Sting shrine in your living room under the TV stand.”

  “How do you notice these things?” I asked as he continued to sing.

  He took my hands in his own and spun me, his arms now wrapped around mine, fingers entwined as he swayed to the beat. We stood like that until the sun made its way up into the sky and we were illuminated by its light.

  “Thank you,” I said as I turned to face him.

  He smiled at me as he picked up the blanket and headed back inside, his stomach growling.

  “I enjoyed it as much as you did,” he explained as he threw the blanket on the bed. “I like singing to you.”

  “I try to memorize every song you sing me… but now I don’t think I can. There’s too many of them,” I explained as I rummaged through my suitcase for something to wear.

  “Luckily I can just keep singing them to you forever,” he commented as I looked over at him sitting on the bed.

  I had to take a deep breath to keep from concentrating on the word forever. I’d never thought I’d know what the word felt like, but it was having the effect of melting me.

  Evan’s stomach growled again and saved me from over thinking it.

  “You can order something if you want to,” I suggested as I stood with my clothes balled in my hand.

  He shrugged. “I was thinking we could go out to breakfast with the band?”

  “Thinking?”

  The crooked grin said it all as he nodded towards the bathroom. “I’ll let them know it’ll be a half an hour?”

  “Sounds good.”

  ~~~

  I applied another layer of mascara and leaned back. I put on blush, eye shadow, and eye liner; I hoped it wasn’t too much. As I screwed the cap back on the purple bottle my hand slipped with sweat. I hadn’t been this nervous the first time Evan and I had gone on a date and that was far more major than meeting the band. It was like the first day of school; you just want to fit in even though you know most likely, you won’t.

  “You getting ready for a fashion show?” Evan called as he stuck his head in the bathroom.

  I shrugged as I stared back at him in the mirror. He was wearing a heather-green t-shirt, a black vest and khakis—with his flip flops.

  “What do the guys think of those?” I asked as I swiped the rest of my makeup back into a bag.

  “What?” Evan asked, and when I nodded to his feet he laughed. “They haven’t seen them yet. I haven’t been daring enough to wander out in them. At least with you here I can blame it on you having bought them for me.”

  I turned to face him with my hands on my hips. “Admit you like them!”

  He pulled me into my arms and kissed my neck before saying in my ear, “I love them.”

  The word and its implications sent a wild array of goose bumps up my spine, and I pushed him away in a playful gesture.

  “So where are we meeting them?” I asked.

  “The lobby; there’s a great breakfast place in the hotel. No need to leave—the wonders of a five star hotel,” Evan said it with a nonchalant, teasing smile and I rolled my eyes at him in response.

  “Oh, the wonders of being rich and famous. Why didn’t we just invite them all to dine in our room?”

  Evan raised an eyebrow. “One girl and five guys who haven’t been laid in three months or longer alone in a room?”

  I looked at the ceiling. “So they haven’t seen their wives in three months or longer?”

  “Yeah, about three months, maybe less,” he replied. When his eyes met mine as he held the door open for me I saw a blush creeping up his neck at the realization that I knew the longer only meant him.

  We walked in silence to the elevator and when it closed he coughed, opened his mouth and then thought better of it. Finally, as the lights flashed to show we were two floors from the lobby he spoke, “Err…I hope you don’t think I meant anything by that comment—I can wait as long as you want. I’m not in a rush or anything.”

  I looked up at him, staring at his feet with his face beet red. It was a rare opportunity to see Evan flustered.

  “Not in a rush?” I asked, before letting my lower lip drift through my teeth.

  His eyes slowly rose up to mine and I smiled at him, taking his hands and pushing them up behind his head, pinning him to the wall.

  “What if I am?” I asked, leaning forward so my lips were centimeters from his.

  He bit at my lip playfully, “Ready when you are, baby.”

  The door slid open and four whistles rang out—eerily in tune with one another. The band. I narrowed my eyes at Evan as he tried his hardest not to laugh. I let his arms down knowing my face was an even darker shade of red than his had been.

  “You’re such a tease,” he whispered as he walked past me.

  I ran up behind him and jumped on his back.

  “You’re an ass!” I hissed in his ear.

  “So this monkey is the one who’s been keeping you on the East Coast?” The one with shaggy long hair, and a five o’clock shadow that had been let go a few extra days said, and I recognized his voice to be that of Paul.

  I slid off of Evan’s back and held my hand out, but instead I ended up in a bear hug, sandwiched between four guys.

  “Group hug!” they called out in key.

  “Finally Evan’s getting some from a normal chick,” a guy I recognized as the drummer commented as they pulled away from me. He had tan skin and dark brown silky hair that hung just over his mocha eyes.

  Evan leaned over and punched him in the shoulder.

  “She’s my girlfriend—not just some chick.” The punch had been playful, but the tone of his voice said he was very serious about what he was saying.

  The drummer, who later introduced himself as Ryan, threw his hands up. “Sorry. I’m not used to using that terminology—next you’ll be just as tied down as the rest of us old men.”

  The rest of the band started walking towards the already busy restaurant, and Evan put his arm around my waist. “I’m sorry if they’re a bit…abrasive.”

  I shook my head. “Not at all. They seem to like me without me having done anything.”

  “We love you,” Paul called over his shoulder. “He’s much less of a hard ass when he’s happy.”

  I looked up at Evan and he shrugged with a smile dimpling his cheeks.

  The band was more of a family than anythi
ng, which was different than I imagined. From what I knew bands were often in constant bickers and getting even with each other. Yet, it was obvious Evan was the leader even as they openly teased one another about their wives—ranking on each other for the things they made them do. Once they caught wind of the flip flops, the laughter took over the restaurant and the waitress gave us a ‘silence’ look, which only resulted in more teasing. They were all comfortable being honest with one another, yet when their music was brought up the seriousness set in. It was their job and they did it well because they functioned as a team. I now understood how their band had been around so long without any break-ups. The mutual respect and brotherhood was apparent, especially when we journeyed to the show venue to do a sound test and rehearsal. I watched in wonder as they worked to get the sound function perfect and then rehearsed with constructive criticism all around. It shocked me Evan accepted it so easily. He was a hard ass, but he was just as hard on himself as he was on them.

  Evan put his hand on the microphone; pick sticking out between his fingers as he asked, “You getting bored out there?”

  I shook my head and leaned deeper into the stadium seating. I had the perfect view of them as they ran through all their songs, and Evan’s stage presence had me in awe. The others in the band didn’t really stand out next to him when he performed. I was captivated by him and the emotions he showed in his voice and body language. After they ran through their set Evan huddled with them, explaining something with animated hands as he pointed to his guitar and then looked over his shoulder at me. He was up to something. I jogged up to the stage, trying to make as little noise as possible, but when I reached the top of the steps they had already separated with smug smiles on their faces.

  “You should play Shattered Mirrors on Evan’s guitar…give him a break.”

  “I thought you already did your set?” I managed to mutter.

  “We throw some random songs in there to mix it up,” Paul explained as he moved his ear length blonde hair out of his eyes before picking up his sticks and heading back to the drum set.

  Evan stepped forward and slipped his guitar strap over my head.

  “I hate you,” I hissed at him as he handed me his pick.

  He didn’t say anything but winked as he turned and went off stage. When he came back he had two stools; he sat in one and took the microphone off the stand before patting the stool adjacent to him with his hand. I gave an over-exaggerated sigh and sat down.

  “You’re not getting any anytime soon,” I muttered under my breath, but the microphone caught it and the remark boomed through the room.

  Ryan hit the drums with the classic joke line rhythm.

  Evan raised an eyebrow and brought the microphone to his lips. “And one…two…three.”

  His foot tapped out the beat as the drums and bass started in, just waiting for me to pick up the song. I took a deep breath before I strummed the guitar, and as I played it became easier. To be truthful, it was one of the most amazing things I had ever done. When it was over Evan pulled me into his arms and kissed the top of my head.

  “Perfection,” he whispered.

  Chapter 12

  What surprised me the most about the day wasn’t the band, their interactions, the way their stage presence blended together, or the impromptu guitar solo by me: it was the fact as the day wore on Evan’s stress level sky rocketed. I could feel it coming off him in waves as he sat next to me backstage. We could already hear the roar of the crowd through the thin walls that separated us from them, and while the rest of the band texted their wives or spoke on the phone with their kids, Evan sat next to me with his head in his hands, shoulders tensed. I leaned forward and rubbed my hand across the thin t-shirt and felt the muscles in his back ease with my touch. He let out a breath and moved his hand so only one eye was showing.

  “Thanks,” he said, closing his eyes as I traced my fingers over his spine and across his shoulders.

  “Are you okay?” I asked in a hushed tone, not sure if the guys understood the amount of stress he suddenly seemed to be under.

  His shoulders sagged. “I’ll be fine as soon as I’m on the stage and things get going smoothly.”

  I chuckled a bit to myself, because now I understood. “Being a perfectionist can be a bummer, huh?”

  He leaned back and I ran my fingers over his arm and into his hand. His knee started tapping as he smiled at me.

  “I’m glad you get it,” he replied. “The guys think I’m nuts.”

  I looked up at Paul who was apparently now playing Angry Birds, the irony didn’t pass over me, and I wondered if Evan had told them about my bandages. Paul winked at me as his finger sent another bird flying and squealing.

  “I think they’re all nuts for not being the least bit nervous. Those girls out there are about to have some of their dreams come true—seeing you in concert!” I remarked, and I instantly regretted it because I thought it might add more pressure to him. Instead he was staring at me with a crooked smile on those thin, seductive lips. “What?”

  He tilted my chin up with his index finger. “Will some of your dreams be coming true?”

  I put my forehead against his. “They already did the first time you kissed me—the first time you sang to me—everything else is just fluff benefits.”

  His chest heaved in a deep sigh before he kissed me, and for the first time in my life I let someone kiss me as if no one was watching. His lips ran over mine in a soft fluid motion, heating my skin with the passion they contained and every part of me wanted to be meshed against him. His hands moved to the small of my back, pulling me on top of him as my legs straddled his waist. The kiss ended sooner than I would have liked.

  “You know exactly what to say,” he replied as he pulled away and tucked a stray hair behind my ear. “The second I’m on that stage staring out at you in that crowd, my dream will come true.”

  I laughed. “And what is that?”

  “I’ve got my own personal groupie.”

  I rolled my eyes at him and then the roar of the crowd intensified. Evan looked down at his watch just as a bouncer came into the room.

  “Miss Walker?” the bouncer asked as I moved to the side of Evan. “I’ll be taking you to your seat.”

  Evan stood and pulled me into one more kiss before letting me leave. I was glad I had my own personal corner away from the intensity of the crowd, because the crowd was insane. I wondered if I would still have my hearing after all the high-pitched squealing my eardrums were being subjected to.

  The bouncer smiled down at me.

  “First concert?” he yelled.

  “Yeah,” I replied, but in truth I should have been used to this sort of thing. I was a journalist after all, but I could never get used to the crowds that came with the job. I hated the squeezing of people around me, the pressure of the air with that many bodies with it, and most of all the noise.

  The crowd hushed and I took a deep breath. I knew it wouldn’t last, and when I looked up the onslaught of girl’s gone wild hit its highest point. Evan was at the microphone, slipping his guitar strap over his head with one of those dimple induced smiles as he searched the crowd.

  “How’s everyone doing tonight?” he asked as the guitar settled in front of him.

  I about died as I looked down at it. It was a deep pearlized pink-purple—exactly the color I would have wanted. His eyes scanned the crowd as it roared until his eyes fell on me. His fingers tapped the hot pink pick guard and he winked at me. In that instant it felt as though the whole room had turned on me, it had hushed a bit as people tried to figure out why he was winking at me. It didn’t last for long because Evan spoke again.

  “How does everyone like my newest guitar?” he asked.

  “Real manly,” Ryan commented as he bada-binged the drums.

  Laughter rippled through the room and passed through me. The energy was overwhelming.

  Evan looked over his shoulder at Ryan and mouthed something.

  Ryan retu
rned the comment with rolled eyes before twirling his sticks in his hands.

  “Are we ready for some music?” Evan shouted as he turned back to the microphone.

  I noticed the pick sticking out of his fingers clasped over the microphone was the baby blue one he had taught me Shattered Mirrors with. The crowd answered with a cheer that sunk into my belly, and his fingers expertly slipped the pick between his index finger and thumb. Ryan began the beat of the drums and the lights flashed up before settling back down on Evan, whose foot was tapping to the beat along with his hand over the pick guard.

  The feel of the bass guitar and the music moved through my body, the vibration of the sound sinking into me and rattling my chest. The emotions of the concert had a physical presence, and the whole room tingled with energy and sound. As soon as Evan’s clean, passionate voice echoed over the speakers the crowd pulsated with their infatuation of him. The squealing had stopped as if they were in awe, but the force of their swaying bodies seemed to swell towards the band. Throughout the set the strength of the crowd remained high, and my face was starting to hurt from smiling so much. The only downside to having seen the band playing earlier was the fact I knew when it was drawing to a close. I didn’t want it to end. When Evan readjusted his guitar strap I expected him to announce the concert was over.

  “We have an extra special addition to our concert tonight,” Evan explained, his pick sticking out between his fingers over the microphone again. His eyes searched the crowd until they found mine. I took a deep breath as he smiled at me. “There’s someone very special out in the crowd tonight.”

  The air was filled with awe’s and a jealous energy tinged the edges of it. I found myself chewing on the edge of my nails wondering what he was up to. He’d better not be thinking I was going to join him on stage, because there was no way in hell that was happening.

  “There are a few additional songs I’d like to sing today. You all might know this one…I quite enjoyed my girlfriend’s rendition of it,” Evan explained to the crowd as he raised his arms up to clap. The band began playing in the background and he jumped to the beat as he began to play the song he had caught me singing and dancing to. I knew my face was red, but instead of being embarrassed I suddenly felt the urge to rush up on stage and join him, mainly because I wanted to kiss him.