Page 73 of Steal My Breath Away

I sipped the hot liquid, letting the foam smooth out the bitterness. “Now who’s playing amateur psychologist?”

“Not me, who thinks you should go to the student counseling center and speak to an actual professional. You were kidnapped and beaten up. You can’t brush it under the carpet.”

“I’m an expert at brushing traumatic events under the carpet,” I assured her. “I don’t need a counselor to help me with a problem I’ve already solved. I’m perfectly fine.”

She gave me a look that suggested she didn’t think I was fine at all. “Dante just messaged me to let me know you were there to do your show and you weren’t yourself. He said you opened with ‘The Scientist.’”

“Could you two be any cuter?” I tried to divert the conversation with a shift in focus. “How about you don’t tell each other everything? Maybe a girl needs her privacy.”

“You were on the air,” Skye pointed out. “How private is it when you tell hundreds of thousands of people what you’re feeling in words only people like us understand?”

“I should have played something upbeat and cheerful, because that’s me,” I lied. “I’m the most upbeat, cheerful, happy person on campus.”

“Sometimes the music just happens.” Skye knew more about music than anyone I knew. She had hundreds of playlists and could rattle off songs for any kind of vibe. I loved music, too, but I was more interested in creating it than knowing every song that ever existed.

“My music isn’t happening,” I admitted. “I tried to write some songs in my head, and all I got was a headache.”

A shadow darkened the counter. My pulse kicked up a notch before I recognized Ben’s smiling face. Maybe I hadn’t finished processing what had happened. I mentally searched for the black box and shoved any lingering fears deep inside.

“I just came by to see if you were okay,” he said. “Skye said you’d been in an accident…” He trailed off, his eyes widening ashe took in my healing cuts, fading bruises, and the splint on my arm. “I didn’t realize it was so bad. Are you okay?”

“All good. Thanks for checking up on me.” I turned to Skye, muttering under my breath, “Do you tell everyone everything?”

“Only the people who might be interested.” She gave me a nudge and dropped her voice low. “Ace is gone. I thought you might need some cheering up.”

“You don’t look okay,” Ben said. “Your whole face is bruised.”

I’d tried to hide the bruises with makeup. Clearly, I’d done a poor job. “I was running and not paying attention and collided with someone. It’s no big deal.”

Ben wasn’t convinced by my lie. “Did someone hurt you?” He looked over his shoulder at the empty chair where Ace used to sit. “Was it your boyfriend? Is that why he’s gone?”

“No, it wasn’t him. It was just an accident.”

“Is there anything I can do?” he asked. “Do you want to go for a drink? Or a walk? Can I carry your stuff to class?”

Nice Ben. Sweet Ben. He was good-looking, athletic, kind, and a perfectly decent guy. There was no reason why I shouldn’t take him up on his offer. No reason why I shouldn’t go out with him or even hook up. Except I wanted Ace. Even after he’d kissed me and left me, and kissed me and left me again. I wanted to be forced out of bed on cold mornings to walk to class instead of taking the bus listening to his irritatingly cheerful lecture about the health benefits of an early-morning stroll. I wanted his grumpy frown when I wasn’t following his rules. I wanted to hear him curse under his breath when Aditi overcooked the pasta. I wanted to fall asleep in his arms.

I gave Ben an apologetic smile. “I missed a few classes so I’m going home after this to catch up. Maybe another time.”

I gave Ben a free coffee and a lemon square and forced myself to finish the shift even though I felt so exhausted it was an effort to breathe.

“You are very clearly not okay.” Skye helped me put onmy jacket and briefed our replacements about what had to be done.

“I miss Ace,” I admitted. “I can’t stop thinking about him. He was hurting so much, and I didn’t do anything to help.”

“You weren’t really in a position to do anything with your body all beaten up,” she said. “And now you have some emotional healing to do. Also, I haven’t forgiven him for the way he left you, so don’t even think about inviting him back to Chicago, because the moment I see him, he’s going down.”

Laughter bubbled up in my throat for the first time since I’d left the hospital. “Paige said something similar. He’s probably afraid to come back because of what you guys will do to him.”

“If he loves you, he’ll come back.” She smacked her fist into her palm. “No matter how painful it’s going to be.”

There is no question that a live band brings a level of energy and excitement to a performance that solo singers can’t match. On stage with Dante’s Inferno, I didn’t have to worry about the emotional intensity of my performance, because I could draw on the energy of the band. I didn’t have to worry about bookings, staging, set lists, or even equipment. I just had to show up and sing. It should have been perfect. I knew the band. We’d done at least half a dozen gigs together. But as the night went on, I realized something had changed.

Had Nick always turned up his amp to compete with Jules’s drum solos, leading everyone to do the same until my eardrums felt like they were bleeding and everything was so out of whack it sounded like a terrible, incoherent mess? Had Jules always gotten mad when she thought she wasn’t loud enough and started arguing with Derek and Nick? How many rehearsals had we had when everyone actually showed up? Did the guys always argue about who got to do the vocals for some of the lower-range songs? And since when had Derek forgotten the chorus of tracks we’d played dozens of times?

I kept looking to Dante to sort out the mess, but it was clear he was just there to play his bass and wasn’t interested in anything else. Had it always been this way? Why hadn’t I noticed that each of us was so focused on our own performance that we lacked true cohesion—the give and take and fundamental trust that were the core of any good relationship.

“You were great,” Chad said in the cab on the way home. He’d come with Paige, Theo, and Aditi to support us and we’d decided to split a cab because the temperature had dropped below freezing and no one was excited about taking the late bus home. “I don’t know what was going on with Nick and Derek, but I don’t think anyone else really noticed.”

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