Page 16 of All I Have Left

“What?” I mouth, glaring when I notice a sly smile on his face. “Stop laughing or I’m leaving.”

He shrugs, laughter still rolling through him. Just as Ethan is going to start the song, he grins and steps away from the mic, laughter erupting from the rest of the band. My eyes dart around the stage, thinking they’re playing some kind of joke on me. To my right, Grayson approaches with a microphone in hand.

That motherfucker, I should have known they were going to do this to me. My arms clench my stomach, because I feel like I might puke.

Stepping over the same cords I tripped on, Grayson stands next to me. I know what you’re thinking. Or at least, I think I do. You think it’s great. But it’s not. Not when Shane is here. Iglance over at him and he has Frankie by the arm, pointing at me and yelling. Shane knows exactly who Grayson is.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Ethan mumbles, turning his hat around backward. In his next movement, he jumps off the front of the stage to where they are standing.

Beside me, completely oblivious to anything off stage, Grayson adjusts the mic, his eyes on the ground. I can’t do this with him up here. Nope. Singing is one thing. Singing with Grayson is another. No way. I won’t even remember the words, let alone remember my own name.

Just as I’m contemplating running off stage, or fake passing out, the band changes tempo of the song and Grayson begins singing and I’m frozen in place. There couldn’t have been a better song for us to sing that matched our situation, and our voices. “Picture” with Sheryl Crow and Kid Rock. But then I’m pissed. How does he get to come back here, after all this time, and sing that song?

Grayson’s voice, like always, sends shivers where there haven’t been in years. Same twang, same drawn-out velvet range that makes me melt. And truthfully, I hate him for it.

It’s nearing the end of the second verse when it talks about not being able to look at the picture without crying that Grayson’s voice breaks, his expression distant.

What could he possibly be thinking right now?

I blow out a steady breath and grab the microphone. I don’t know how, but I somehow remember the lyrics.

I think about the words, and how true it is to our situation. Enthralled in chocolate brown gazing back at me, I lose track of what we’re singing and stare back at him. He chose this song for a reason. When the song says she hasn’t heard from him in three nights, I change the lyrics to three years and point my finger in his chest.

Smirking, his eyes meet mine, uncertainty sadness to them. Reaching up, his hand grasps mine on his chest and it’s hard to describe what I feel in that moment. Tears begin to sting myeyes and I hate it. I don’t want to cry in front of him right now.

Swallowing over the lump rising in my throat, he stares at me, blinking slowly, his hand rises, his palm against my cheek. I hadn’t realized it, but I’m crying and he’s catching tears. Grayson and I have always had these moments when I think for sure he can see my soul and all the love I have for him. This is one of those moments. Our gaze doesn’t break away until the song ends.

I don’t remember the song ending, or when we let go of one another, but for the remainder of the night, the band drags me on stage a handful of times. For not knowing many of the songs, Grayson picks them up quick and takes turns playing the guitar, the piano, and singing. He’s so talented at everything he does and he knows it. He’s one of the most confident men I’ve ever met, but for good reason. Looking at him now, he hasn’t lost his touch.

On the side of the stage, I sneak a couple shots of tequila. “I’m gonna kill that jerk face,” Frankie says, her expression livid. “He tore my shirt.”

I screw the cap back on the bottle, leaning in closer to hear her over Ethan on stage. “Who?” I glance up to see Grayson is still up there with him.

“Shane,” she spits, snagging the bottle from me and taking a drink straight from the bottle.

“What was that about earlier?” I’m almost afraid to ask, but I do, my attention on Grayson as he’s doing a solo on the guitar, my vision of him slightly obscured by the lights blinding me.

“He wanted to know why Grayson was back and if you two had been fucking.”

I roll my eyes and play it off. “That’s the way he is.”

She regards me silently for a moment, as if she’s trying to decide if what I’m saying is the truth. A sadness enters her eyes. “Is it?” She sets the bottle down and quirks an eyebrow at me. “Or is it something more?”

I chew on my lip, tears stinging my eyes again. I look away. I want to tell her everything, from the first time, to the baby, but I don’t, for reasons I don’t entirely understand. Fear maybe. What will she think of me for staying with someone like that? Frankie’s strong and independent and would never in a million years let Ethan treat her badly.

“He’s just that way, Frankie.” I blow it off. “You know him.”

“No, actually I don’t.” She looks down at her torn shirt. He did, in fact, rip the side of her shirt. Anger hits me that he laid a hand on her. “And I don’t want to after tonight. I almost ripped his nuts off.”

You’d be doing me a favor if you did.

I suck in a huge breath, shocked at the anger I have for Shane touching her. I’m one thing, but Frankie, no. No way. Never will I let him hurt her. And then I think to myself, I can’t believe I’m justifying it. It’s okay that he hurts me but not my friends? I hate that I’m even rationalizing it for myself. Swallowing over the lump permanently lodged in my throat, I give Frankie a tearful smile. “I have to go.”

Her hand captures mine, pulling me toward her, and in that second her eyes lock on mine, I know she knows. “I love you, no matter what.”

I don’t want to cry. Not anymore. Not now. I draw back, narrowing my eyes when I hear Grayson’s laughter on stage. I hate the way it pierces through me in the most delicious, consuming way. Have you heard the expression love is a battlefield? I have, and that guy on stage, laughter rolling gently off his beautiful lips, his strips me bare of my armor and leaves me defenseless. “Why didn’t you tell me he was in town?”

A smirk forms at the corners of Frankie’s lips. “Surprise!”

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