A second chance was never something
I thought I would have to ask for
But now, I’m so alone
Without you ...
I could’ve held you tight
And never let go
But I walked away
Without you ...
I’m sorry I took you for granted
Assumed you’d always be there
I don’t know how to go on
Without you ...
Without you, I’m half the man I’m meant to be
Without you, I know I’ll never thrive
Together, we make the perfect song
And more than anything, oh-oh
I need you for my forever
I could’ve held your hand
Showered you with flowers
But those little things are gone
Without you ...
I want to sway with you
In the moonlight
Dance on our wedding night, but I can’t
Without you ...
You’re my sunshine
My breath of fresh air
But now my world is dark
Without you ...
Without you, I’m half the man I’m meant to be
Without you, I know I’ll never thrive
Together, we make the perfect song
And more than anything, oh-oh
I need you for my forever
But now I’m willing to fight
Do all the things that are right
I need you to be my light
Because I don’t want to ever be ...
Without you.
Because I love you.
Without you, I’m half the man I’m meant to be
Without you, I know I’ll never thrive
Together, we make the perfect song
And more than anything, oh-oh
I need you for my forever
Just when I thought the song was over, he continued.
Another chance was all we needed
To know our love was true
I’m yours
You’re mine
There will never be
Another day for me...
Without you.
Crowd or not, reporters or not, I couldn’t stop myself from going to him. I needed to hold Evan and I didn’t care who watched. Evan finished tapping the last note just as I weaved through the tables and made it to him. He looked back over his shoulder and saw me. He winked with tears in his eyes. Then, he stood up, came over to me, and held out his hand.
Without even thinking about where we were, I took it. He yanked me up on stage and flush against his body.
“This is your three-year deal, Evan? You never cease to amaze me,” I said, looking up at him.
“Yeah, it’s more of a three-year lease with an option to buy. Sam and I always talk in our industry terms. Sorry, it got muffled up.”
It didn’t matter. “I love you,” I told him.
“Good,” he said, getting down on one knee. “Since I didn’t do it right the first time, let’s pretend like it was practice for the real thing.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a blue satin box. “Marry me, Sunshine, so there will never be another day for me without you.”
Faintly, I could hear the hooting and hollering of our best friends. I glanced toward the voice and saw that Genna and Luke were there along with my parents and Evan’s. Each of the women had tears in their eyes. Genna yelled, “Say yes, dummy!”
Dazed with happiness, I looked down at Evan and smiled. He gave me that sexy grin of his and he winked. “Yes, Evan. Yes. I want to be with you, always.”
He slid the ring on my finger and jumped up, circling his arms around me before planting a kiss on my lips that would have my students talking for days.
But I didn’t care.
Evan James was mine. Again. Only now, it was a deal that would last a lifetime.
Epilogue
Six Months Later
EVAN
“Did you get some Cheerios?” I called out to Maddy when she walked in the front door. I was in the kitchen harboring a huge craving for cereal. “Someone left an empty box in the cupboard.”
“It’s not empty,” she said as I made my way to her to take the few groceries from her arms. “There was a bowl left.”
“Maybe a spoonful, if I’m lucky.” I set the two bags on the counter, and leaned into it, raising my brow at her.
She arched a brow right back. “You’re lucky I got you anything.” The confused expression on my face caused her to laugh. “What did I tell you?” She dug inside one of the reusable bags and pulled out a magazine. “Didn’t I say I wanted to be able to get a carton of milk without having to see a woman draped across you like a scarf on the cover of a some rag?”
I took it from her, knowing exactly what it was. A cheesy smile spread across my face. We had been expecting it. We’d seen the cover, and the article, but being able to buy it at the grocery store was another thing.
“Actually, you said you didn’t want to see a sleazy underwear model draped across me like a scarf.” I pointed to the picture and said, “This woman right here. This is my wife and she is no sleaze. She is by far hotter, and way more beautiful than any model I’ve ever seen.” I reached my hand out to her. “Now, where are my Cheerios?”
She swatted my hand away, but she wasn’t fast enough. “Come here, Mrs. James. I want to wrap myself around you like a scarf and make love to you.” I scooped her up into my arms and darted down the hall to our bedroom. The cereal could wait. Suddenly, I craved something, or should I say someone, so much more. My sunshine. My bride. My best friend, the woman I plan on loving for forever.
* * * * *
GRAMMY AWARD WINNING SINGER-SONGWRITER HANGS UP HIS MIC TO START A NEW VENTURE
Evan James Opens Listening Room
Pasadena, CA
Three years ago, Evan James took the music scene by storm with his tender vocals and meaningful lyrics. After recording two albums and two solo tours, it appears that James has taken on a new venture opening up a listening room of sorts called Sunshine & Lyrics in Pasadena, California, inspired by Nashville’s iconic The Bluebird Cafe.
“The location was important to me. I wanted to find a city with character and nightlife, but without the craze of downtown Los Angeles or Hollywood,” James said.
At the grand opening of Sunshine & Lyrics two weeks ago, the doors opened to people of all ages and walks of life. The establishment prides itself on inviting anyone who has a love of music. Light snacks are on the menu, along with beer and wine. Sundays are dry days when all ages are welcome. James says, “There’s something for everyone.”
Thursday: Songwriter’s Showcase
Friday: Genre night (a different one each week)
Saturday: Open Mic Night
Sunday: Family Day
Right next door, music lovers can get lessons on just about any instrument. James will be teaching some of the classes himself. It appears that the new establishment is drawing in several A-listers. Chris Daughtry popped in to help with guitar lessons for a small group of teenagers, while Jennifer Nettles stopped in to listen to the first Songwriter’s Showcase. It is clear that Sunshine & Lyrics has a vibe that draws people in and where talent is grown.
The idea came to James when he decided to hang up his touring shoes and put his business degree to use.
“As soon as I left, I knew it didn’t feel right. Don’t get me wrong. I’m grateful for all the success I’ve had and I love my fans, but sometimes you gotta look past the fast life, money, and celebrity to go after what really makes you happy. For me, it was love. It was Maddy. It was us being together. Sunshine & Lyrics is a symbol of us, our love for each other, our love for music, and for teaching.”
Just two months ago, James married his high school sweetheart, Madison Grey, at her parents’ home in Big Bear, California. Their parents, best friends, and James’ manager and assistant were the only gues
ts in attendance. They successfully avoided media presence and word of their nuptials were not released until after the ceremony took place.
“Maddy’s not used to all this attention. I’ve been in love with this woman since I was sixteen, I wanted our wedding day to be special and private.” It’s understandable that James and his new bride wouldn’t want their wedding day to be taken over by hovering helicopters and paparazzi hiding in the bushes. They did promise they would release a photo of their big day on the Sunshine & Lyrics official website.
The new Mrs. James is just as thrilled with the new opening as James. “Since the day I met Evan, music has been part of his life. I’d sit back and just watch him create, always in awe that he had such talent. It was incomprehensible to me that he could be so sweet, and so good at the same time. The fact that he wants to share all that with anyone who wants to stop by is inspiring. And he’s so great with the kids. They really look up to him. It’s a good thing. He’s definitely someone that can guide them in the right direction.” Madison James has been a middle school teacher for three years, and as such, having healthy role models for teenagers is something she understands quite well. She will continue to teach during the week, but lend her talents to Sunshine & Lyrics on the weekends.
Sunshine & Lyrics has been buzzing since its soft opening a few months ago. Wanting to surprise his then fiancée, James opened the place early for a small show. He invited a few talented teenagers to play a song with him. Thirteen-year-old, Abigail Graham, melted the hearts of all in attendance with her sweet rendition of Christina Aguilera’s Beautiful. Two other youngsters joined in on the guitar and drums, while James himself played the piano. The kids first met James when he came to an impromptu career day at the middle school where Madison James teaches.
The finale came when James took to the upright playing a new song called Without You for her. When he finished singing, he went to her and dropped to his knee and proposed right there in front of the crowd. And the rest is, as they say, history.
When asked if he plans on recording Without You or selling it to another artist, James responded by shaking his head and saying, “Hell no. That’s my sunshine’s song. It brought her back to me. It belongs to her and no one else.”
True love was evident in the way the couple shared their story throughout the interview. The title of the listening room came from their relationship. As the name suggests, she is his sunshine and he is the lyrics. We look forward to hearing the success of their venture, as together they create the perfect song.
Teaser from Heidi McLaughlin
Forever My Girl
The Beaumont Series #1
By Heidi McLaughlin
CHAPTER 1
LIAM
A light snore reminds me that I’m not alone. The heaviness of a body sprawled out, sets me off immediately. The stale smell of day old perfume lingers in the air and on my sheets.
The curtains are pulled back, the sun shining through the large window which affords me the best view and privacy.
Rolling over, there’s a face I don’t remember. A face that holds no name in my recollection or any vivid memory of how she ended up in my hotel room let alone my bed.
The bed part I can probably figure out.
The blonde hair tells me that I didn’t bother to get her name or ask her what her favorite drink was. Guaranteed our conversation was eyes, hands and lips only. There is one hair color that can make my heart beat and blonde isn’t it.
Neither is red.
Eyes too.
Never blue.
They have to be brown or green, never blue.
This isn’t a downward spiral or some drug induced moment. I don’t do drugs, never have, but I may drink excessively on occasions like last night. This is me coping with my mistakes and failures. I may be successful when I’m on stage, but at night I’m alone.
And so freaking scared of dying alone.
I reach for my phone to check the time. Instead I pull up the gallery that holds her image, my thumb hovering over her face. I’ll see her when I go home and I don’t know what I’ll say.
I know she hates me.
I hate me.
I ruined her life. That is what her voice message said. The one I’ve saved for the past ten years. The one I’ve transferred from phone to phone just so I could hear her voice when I’m at my lowest. I can recite every hateful word she said to me when I was too busy to answer and never found the time to call her back.
Never found one second to call and explain to her what I had done to us. She was my best friend and I let her slip through my fingers just to save myself from the heartache of hearing she didn’t want me anymore.
I had dreams too.
And my dreams included her, but she would never have gone for it. I’m not living her American Dream. I'm living my own.
My decision destroyed everything.
My nameless bed cohabitant reaches out and strokes my arm. I move away quickly. Now that I’m sober, I have no desire to be anything to this person.
“Liam,” she says through her seductive tone that sounds like a baby. It makes my skin crawl when women talk like this. Don’t they see that it makes them sound ridiculous? No man worth his nuts likes this sort of thing. It’s not sexy.
Wrapping the sheet around my waist I sit up and swing my legs over the edge, away from her and her wandering hand. My back tenses when I feel the bed shift. Standing, I pull the sheet tighter to keep myself somewhat covered. I shouldn’t care, but I do. She’s seen me in the dark, but I’m not affording her or her camera another look.
“I’m busy.” My voice is strict, a well-practiced monotone. “Jorge, the concierge, will make sure you get a cab home.”
I sleep purposefully facing the bathroom so I never have to look at them when I tell them to leave. It’s easier that way, no emotions. I don’t have to look at their faces and see the hope fade. Each one hopes they will be the one to tame me, to make me commit.
I haven’t had a steady girlfriend since I entered the industry and a one night stand isn’t about to change that. These girls don’t mean anything and never will. I could change. I could settle down and marry.
Have a kid or two.
But why?
My manager, Sam, would love it, especially if it was her. She’s my only repeat lay. The first time was an error in judgment, a lonely night on the road mistake. Now she wants more. I don’t.
When she told me she was pregnant I wanted to jump off a cliff. I didn’t want kids, at least not with her. When I think about having a wife, she’s tall and brunette. She’s toned from years of cheerleading and her daily five-mile run. She’s not a power hungry executive in the music industry who spoke of hiring nannies before a doctor could confirm her pregnancy.
She suggested marriage; I freaked and flew to Australia to learn to surf.
She miscarried two months in. I made a vow that we’d keep things professional from that point on and that is when I started my one night stand routine. Despite everything, she still loves me, and is waiting for me to change my mind.
“You know,” the barfly from last night starts to say in between shuffling and her huffed breathing as she puts on her clothes. “I heard you were a dick, but I didn’t believe it. I thought we had something special.”
I laugh and shake my head. I’ve heard it all, each one thinks we have something special because of the most amazing night they’ve ever had.
“I didn’t pick you for your brains.” I walk into the bathroom and shut the door, locking it for good measure.
Leaning against the door I bang my head against the solid wood. Each time I tell myself I’m going to stop, and I think I have until something makes me want to forget. My hands rake over my face in pure frustration.
I’m not looking forward to going home.
The reason for returning is staring at me from my bathroom counter. The page-long article of the guy I used to call my best friend. Picking up the paper, I read over the words t
hat I have memorized.
Mason Powell, father of two, was killed tragically when the car he was driving was rear-ended by an eighteen wheeler.
Dead.
Gone.
And I wasn’t there.
I left like a coward when I didn’t say goodbye.
I changed my cell phone number because she wouldn’t stop calling. I had to make a clean break and Mason was part of that. She and Katelyn were best friends and he’d tell her where I was and what I was doing. It was better this way.
I was only meant to be gone a year. I told myself I’d return home after twelve months, make everything right and show her that I wasn’t the same person she fell in love with. She’d see that and thank me, move on and marry a yuppie business man, one who wakes up every day and puts on a crisp dress shirt and pleated slacks that she'd iron in their Leave it to Beaver household.
I squeeze the paper in my hands and think about everything I’ve missed. I don’t regret it, I can’t. I did this for me and did it the only way I knew how. I just didn’t think I’d care so much about missing everything.
I missed the day he asked Katelyn to marry him. Something I knew he wanted to do since we were sixteen.
I missed his wedding and the birth of his twins. He was a father and a husband. He had three people who depended on him and now he’s gone. He’ll never see his children grow up and do the things that we did when we were younger. All the things we said our kids would do together. I missed this because I had something to prove to myself. I gave up on their dream and the life we had all planned out.
And now I’m heading home to face the music.
Find out more about Heidi and the Beaumont Series at:
http://heidimclaughlin.com/.
Titles by Julie Prestsater
Julie has written two series: The Double Threat Series for teens and the Against The Wall series for adults. Against The Wall is actually a spinoff from her YA series and is recommended for mature readers who are 17 years or older.
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