Page 86 of Conception
“Now, what do you say we order takeout and watch bad movies? We’ve got a big night tomorrow and I don’t want to be falling asleep or nursing a headache while Steve Perry’s bare chest is, like, one-hundred feet away from me.”
“Agreed, but on one condition.”
“What?”
She wrinkles her nose. “Please don’t make me watchMesa of Lost Womenagain.” She shivers. “The thought of being injected with spider venom…”
I laugh. “Fine, instead of bad movies, how about ones with eye candy?” I offer, knowing she’ll jump at that.
In fact, I let her choose.
Though I could kick myself when she selectsWhat a Way to Go!I can’t blame her. When it comes to eye candy, getting Paul Newman, Dean Martin, Gene Kelly, Robert Mitchum, and Dick Van Dyke all in one film is pretty much the ultimate choice.
Hell, it doesn’t matter what we watch. Nothing will ever erase him from my mind.
We’re in awe when we walk into the Knoxville Civic Coliseum. Throngs of people mill about, sipping beer, standing in line to buy all the Journey merch. Sunny drags me to the line, purchasing a tank, a poster, and one for me as well.
“For the tickets. It’s the least I can do,” she says.
“Thanks. It’s not like I bought them.”
There’s a pang in my heart. I love Sunny, and I’m glad she’s with me. But…I should be experiencing this with Knox. This concert was supposed to be our final weekend. And I can only imagine how we’d have spent the night. All primed and ready to go from the concert. Steve Perry’s voice is a known aphrodisiac, after all.
Now, it feels like he’s been gone for forever.
Sunny bumps my shoulder with hers. “Not tonight, Meems. For just one night, forget about him. Let’s have fun.”
I hook my hair behind my ear and plaster on a smile. Then I loop my arm through hers. “You’re right. Forget him.”
I hold myself together most of the time. Until about halfway through the concert, when Steve Perry, shirtless and hair flowing, croons the bridge of “Stay Awhile.”
I lose it, bursting into tears that stream like molten lava down my cheeks. The proverbial dam breaks, damaged beyond repair, unleashing every last drop I’ve tried to hold in for nearly a month. Not wanting to make a scene, grateful Sunny’s off refilling her beer, I push through the row of people swaying back and forth to the music and rush out to the corridor. Finding an empty corner, I press my back against the wall and sink until my ass hits the floor, closing my eyes and resting my forehead against my bent knees.
Problem is, closing my eyes just brings Knox’s intoxicating smile to my mind. Knox, who should be here with me. Knox, who left because I was too much of a coward to put my heart on the line when it mattered the most.
Knox Wellington, who I’m pretty sure is irreplaceable. Unforgettable.
Knox, who has no idea he left something behind.
Something more than me.
“Honey, are you okay?” the sweet Southern drawl draws me from my thoughts.
When I blink my eyes open, a young couple is peering down at me. I release a shaky breath, swiping the tears off my face. “Yeah. I’m good. Thanks.” I let out a small laugh. “Bad breakup, so I’m just a tad bit emotional. Steve Perry will do that to you.”
The woman slides down next to me, the man with her smiling sympathetically.
“I’m Allison. This here’s my husband, Wade.”
He tips his baseball cap. “Nice to meet ya.”
His kind smile and Southern drawl warm my heart. He’s tall, not quite as tall as Knox, and he has a lean build. His pretty wife has killer brown hair that cascades down her back and striking brown eyes that match. It’s her smile, though, that comforts me. It’s genuine and full of concern. For me. A stranger.
“I’m Amelia. Husband, wow. You two look so young.”
She laughs it off and I’m quick to continue.
“I mean no offense, of course.”
