Page 85 of Not Another Love Song

But Gwen Jackson challenged the meaning of happy.

And less than a week after she’d been in his studio, in his arms, on his fingertips, he did the thing he promised he’d never do again. He walked into Nathan Andrews’s office, smiled, and asked for a second chance. It was the most humiliating moment of his life. He’d never felt as powerless as he had in that moment.

But as the first day back at rehearsal approached—the first day he could walk in holding Gwen’s hand, the first time he could stare at her openly from his seat in the cellos, knowing that she was his and he was hers…

He would do it all over again. Every step of it.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Gwen was a bit worried about how the first rehearsal back would go. With Alex’s Instagram post—his first in three weeks—about seventy-five percent of the orchestra now knew that they…made pancakes together.

As the rehearsal studio came closer, Alex still held Gwen’s hand. He’d tried to carry her violin case along with his own cello case, but that’s where she’d drawn the line. She thought maybe they would detach now? Hugh and Caroline in the trumpet section were married, but they didn’t arrive hand-in-hand. Maybe she and Alex should enter separately, like they hadn’t woken up in the same apartment this morning.

And then he was pulling the door for her, and the room was turning to greet them, and yes, there were knowing smiles and Mei did send her a lewd gesture behind Alex’s back, but really… the world didn’t end.

It was only when she looked over to the stage manager’s desk and saw Ava leaning against it, chatting cordially with Nathan, that she felt her stomach drop. Ava was never at rehearsals. But today—the first day of Gwen and Alex’s public dating life—Ava was here.

Gwen let Alex’s hand drop as she moved to take her seat. Mary in second chair gave her a friendly smile as she opened her violin case, and Gwen blushed, feeling like she was under a microscope.

Once she was settled, she looked up to find Alex sitting directly across from her, sending her a heated expression.

Oh, boy.

“All right, everybody!” Nathan ran up to the podium, clapping his hands for attention. “Christmas time is here again! I know, I know. It feels like we just left October behind.”

Gwen glanced at Ava. She sat with the stage manager with her legs crossed, looking thoroughly engrossed.

“We have several new pieces as well as some of the old standbys, but one of my favorite things for this year is a new arrangement Ava and I worked on. ‘Baby, It’s Cold Outside,’ featuring our first violinist and first cellist on the solos.”

A chorus of delighted chuckles and simpering “aws” from the orchestra. It took Gwen a moment to realize that Nathan meant her. And Alex. Playing a (debatably) romantic song together. She felt heat rising to her cheeks. But when she looked up at Alex, he was glaring at Nathan.

The applause and the chatter died down. Nathan continued, “Now, we’ll work on that piece tomorrow, but for today—”

“So you’ll be profiting off of our relationship,” Alex cut in, stating it matter-of-factly, like it was a given.

Gwen bit her tongue, feeling her heartbeat in her fingertips. If she’d been embarrassed before—

“Not profiting, no,” Nathan said calmly. “We’re giving opportunities to our section leaders. You can decline, of course.”

Nathan moved on quickly. Alex brooded through the rest of rehearsal. And when Gwen checked in with Ava again, she was pursing her lips, staring down at her phone.

At the ten-minute break, Gwen was about to grab a cup of tea from the table when Ava flagged her over. Taking a deep breath, she walked to the stage manager’s table and took a seat by her boyfriend’s mother.

“How are you, darling?” Ava asked, letting her eyes trace Gwen’s face.

“Fine, thanks!” Gwen’s voice was far too chipper. Too everything-is-dandy.

“Can we go over a few things after rehearsal? I just want to touch base.”

Gwen swallowed, probably a gulping sound that could be heard clear across the room. “Sure. We’ll meet upstairs?”

“Why don’t we grab something to eat across the street. Just you and me.”

This felt like the beginning of a horror movie, when you’re yelling at the girl for walking into a trap. But Gwen just nodded, smiled, and told Ava she’d talk to her after rehearsal. Alex was watching her closely as she took her chair again.

By the time rehearsal ended, Gwen was sick of Christmas already. And it was only November 8. When she told Alex she was having dinner with Ava after rehearsal, he frowned but nodded.

“This might be good timing, actually,” she said, glancing down at her shoes. “I can head up to Washington Heights and grab a few things. The, uh…pack-of-four panties from the CVS have served their time—”

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