Life On Stage: Beat Part 29

Not wanting to be seen, I stand almost flat against the wall next to the door and lean my head forward just enough to peer in.

She's standing in front of a woman, motioning with her hands for the student to lift up at her chest, instructing her to sing through her diaphragm. Lucky's back is to me, but it doesn't matter, the tightness in my chest eases just from seeing her again. I may have been fighting the words that slipped out at Nolan's house today, but f.u.c.k if it isn't true. My body can't deny what it feels for her. It's been dead for three days and suddenly, just knowing she's on the other side of the door, it comes alive again.

But when I see her throw her head back and laugh, it feels like I got punched in the gut. She's at work-I know from experience that she enjoys teaching-yet for some reason, it's as though everything I thought we had must have been a lie. How can she be laughing when I've been walking around feeling like my dog died?

Of course, it's at this moment that my phone, which never rings, decides to go off. I narrow my eyes at Nolan's stupid grin flashing on the screen and swipe the call to decline. But the sound catches the attention of the student and teacher and I swiftly pull my head back against the wall. A minute later, light singing returns, so I chance one last glance and my eyes meet those of her student. Reluctantly, I head to my meeting before I get caught.

Upstairs, I'm surprised to find Nolan already in the lobby for our meeting. "It's only three." I stride past him and head to the reception desk. He follows me.

"I thought the meeting was at three?"

"It is. But I figured you wouldn't show for at least half an hour."

He grins. "Someone has to be the responsible party in this band."

I want to be p.i.s.sed off, but I can't...he's just such a wisea.s.s. With a chuckle, I say, "The last time we left any real responsibility to you, you ordered us ten thousand In Like Finn T-shirts."

He shrugs. "I don't see why you made a big deal out of that. You could have just changed your name to Finn."

"They were all ladies' size double XL."

"I like my ladies on the voluptuous side."

I snicker. "I give up. Let's go do this meeting, jacka.s.s." Arms hooked around my pal like we're back in elementary school, I follow the receptionist with the nice a.s.s to the conference room, feeling like maybe, just maybe, things will turn out right in the end. The feeling is short-lived when we turn the corner and the gla.s.s fishbowl-like meeting room comes into my line of sight. A man I definitely was not expecting to see today is sitting at the table. Dylan d.a.m.n Ryder. And he's smiling at me like a wolf about to pounce on a lame lamb.

Chapter Thirty-Six.

Lucky

"Thank you for helping out tonight." Avery lifts the security gate from the front of Lucky's and fiddles with the lock on the front door that has been sticking for more than ten years.

"Of course. It's not like I have a social life anyway."

"The way you look tonight, you could have a very busy social life. Maybe try smiling once or twice, so you don't look like you bite. You'll be all set." My best friend showed up at my apartment unannounced a few hours ago, declaring that if I wasn't going to feel good, she was going to at least make d.a.m.n sure I looked good. So over a gla.s.s of wine, we raided my closet and I let her do my hair and makeup like we were back in high school. I wasn't into it at first-I actually did it to make her feel better. I've been so down, and she's been trying so hard, I wanted her to think she helped. But by the time we were done, she'd succeeded in not only making me look better, but actually feel a little better too.

Inside Lucky's we work like a well-oiled machine, restocking the bar, righting the upside-down chairs. When we're all set up, I sit on the other side of the bar while Avery counts out the register.

"I miss him like crazy," I sigh.

"I know." She pours me a gla.s.s of wine. "You need to talk to him."

"I don't want to ruin his career. Look at my mom and dad. He gave up everything to give me a life he thought was right for me. She walked away from us."

Avery pours herself a gla.s.s of wine and walks around the bar to sit next to me on a stool. "Your dad loved you more than anything on this earth. There was never a day he questioned if he made the wrong choice. Your mom made her choice, too. That's the thing...it was their choice to make and they both did what worked for them. You're not giving Flynn that chance."

"But what if he chooses me and stays for a year and then decides he made the wrong choice?"

"Like Iris did."

I nod.

"Is that what you're really afraid of? That he'll lose the tour and a year later he'll up and leave you for another one? That he'll break your heart?"

"I don't know."

"You didn't worry about the future with Dylan."

"I don't think I was ever really in love with Dylan."

She smiles. "It's about time you admitted it. I'm not sure what makes me happier, that you're in love or that you never loved Sleazy Ryder. But either way, you need to talk to Flynn. Otherwise you'll be the one wondering what if your whole life."

I raise my gla.s.s to her. "Thank you."

"For what?"

"For just being you."

"Remember that thought later," she mumbles cryptically and heads to the front door to officially open.

"What the heck does that mean?"

"Nothing," she throws back over her shoulder. But from her tone, I can tell that her fingers were crossed.

Before you're pregnant, you never notice all the strollers when you walk through the park. But then suddenly you see them all. It's not that they weren't there before, your brain just didn't point them out to you. Which is likely why it feels like every song is an anthem for love or breaking up tonight.

"If I hear one more song about losing the love of your life tonight, I may pull the plug," I yell over the bar while Avery makes my drink order. A blue-haired twenty-something is ruining Jewel's "You Were Meant for Me" on stage. But the lyrics taunt me.

Avery sings the chorus loudly (and completely off-key) in my face as she loads the drinks onto the table.

You were meant for me And I was meant for you.

I stick up my middle finger and turn to deliver drink orders to table number eight.

It's almost midnight, the bar is near capacity, and I'm helping Avery behind the bar when a murmur comes over the crowd. A gaggle of women make a beeline for the door, a sure sign that a celebrity has just walked in. Even years after my father's death, it's not unusual for musicians to walk in and hang out. Lucky's truly has had some legendary musical guests stroll in unannounced.

"Who do you think it is?" I ask Avery as she looks toward the swarm of women blocking our view. It must be someone big; half the bar has taken notice.

"Ummm..." Avery bites her lip. "I might have stolen your phone earlier and invited..."

Suddenly, the figure the crowd has been hiding comes into view.

Dylan.

I turn to my best friend. "You invited Dylan?" I feel completely ambushed.

"No! I didn't invite him."

Dylan steps to the bar. Unsure of what to do, I remain frozen in place. We didn't exactly leave things on good terms. Unless calling me a wh.o.r.e and threatening to ruin my and Flynn's careers could possibly be considered a warm send-off in some strange universe.

"Can we talk?" Dylan asks with a weary expression.

I purse my lips together, but then nod. Avery grabs my arm, stopping me as I'm about to walk out from behind the bar.

"Lucky, you need to know something."

"What? You did invite him here?"

"No. But I invited Flynn to come tonight."

"You what?" My voice screeches.

"I might have told him you were miserable and said if he was miserable, too, you would be at Lucky's tonight."

After the initial shock of betrayal wears off, my stomach sinks at the realization that Flynn hasn't shown up tonight. Even though my mind is whirling, I know I need to process one thing at a time. While Flynn may not have shown up, Dylan is standing ten feet away. "I'm going to go out back where we can have privacy."

She nods.

Dylan's security clears the way to the back door and guards the exit as we slip into the alley.

"What are you doing here?"

He looks down at his feet. "I came to apologize."

When I say nothing in response, he lifts his eyes to mine. "For the things that I called you." He rubs the back of his neck. "Look, Lucky. I pushed you too fast. I get it now. But you hurt me. One minute I thought you said yes and the next you were taking it back."

"I didn't want to say no in the restaurant and embarra.s.s you. I told you that."

"I know. I get that now. I can even appreciate it. But in the moment, I just wanted to hurt you back. So I said some pretty s.h.i.tty things to get you back."

I nod. "Apology accepted. And I'm sorry, too."

He reaches out and takes my hand into his. "For what?"

"For the way things turned out. For everything." The guilt inside me escapes through tears.

Dylan takes it to mean I regret that things ended, rather than that I regret the way things ended. "Let's take a step back. I want to be with you, Lucky. I'll wait till you're ready."

He totally doesn't get that I'll never be ready to be with him. I've shown this man so much disrespect, it's time to be honest. "My feelings have changed, Dylan. I don't want to go back or forward. I'm sorry. I really am."

Rejection is definitely not something Dylan Ryder is used to. Shock registers on his face, then slowly morphs into something else. "It's because of him, isn't it? You really want to be with him?" He doesn't hide the utter hatred in his voice.

I nod. "But I haven't spoken to him since he left the tour. Please don't take it out on him and ruin his career because I fell in love."

"What?" he seethes.

"I'm sorry. It just happened."

"You're in love with that long-haired poser and you didn't mean for it to happen?"

I nod, and don't even attempt to try to tell him Flynn isn't a poser.

"So his d.i.c.k just accidentally fell inside you?"

I have no idea if he knows for sure that we've been intimate, but he's lashing out and it doesn't matter at this point. I take it because I deserve it.

"I trusted you. I was going to make you my wife, for f.u.c.k's sake." His expression is filled with rage.

I'm relieved when he swings open the door and begins striding across the bar.

Until I see the man who's just walked in.

Flynn.

Chapter Thirty-Seven.

Flynn

After rereading her text for the hundredth time today, I walk into Lucky's with Nolan. She's miserable. I'm miserable. This is just f.u.c.king stupid. I know she loves her new job, but she's talented-any record label would be an idiot not to hire her. In fact, now that I'm in search of a new label for In Like Flynn, maybe we can set up a two-for-one deal.

My newfound fame delays my entry and I sign a dozen autographs as I try to make my way inside. Scanning the bar, my eyes find Lucky coming in from the back hallway. At first, I feel an overwhelming sense of relief just being in the same room as her. But then I squint and the sadness in her face comes into focus. It looks like she's been crying.

Brushing past the women swarming me, I'm focused on only one thing. Getting to Lucky and making her feel better.

Which is probably why I don't see the first punch coming.