Page 113 of Every Now and Then
“Crisis averted.”
“Hope so.”
While Annabelle didn’t want to join me at the public album release party, she accepted my invitation to the private after-party. It’s ultra-exclusive, basically just the band and close friends. Zero media presence. My condo building has a private rooftop space we rented for the after-party, so Annabelle and I can dip out easily. Tonight, the girls are spending the night with Annabelle’s friend, Laura, so Annabelle and I have the condo to ourselves.
I plan to make good use of our time alone because, goddamn, I have missed Annabelle.
Aiden strides over to where we’re standing and slings an arm over Rowdy’s shoulders. Holding up his beer, he says, “Cheers to another successful album, boys. May it top the charts!” We click our bottles together and shoot the shit for a few minutes before we each get pulled away to talk to other people.
After another ninety minutes, the listening session ends, and it’s time for our set. We’re only playing three songs, the first three singles from the album:Every Now and Then, Room 112,andHeaven.
As I walk onto the stage and grab my guitar, I can’t help but think over the last year and marvel at how much my life has changed since writing these songs. I wrote many of them from the pits of despair,pissed off at myself for not realizing how precious Annabelle was until she slipped through my fingers.
But knowing what I know now—knowing what Annabelle was grappling with the night we met at Tank’s—I know that we each had to go our separate ways back then. She wasn’t ready to be in a relationship with me. She needed to heal and focus on her daughters. And I needed to mature into a man worthy of her.
Standing on stage tonight, singing the lyrics that flowed through my heart and out my pen, I pretend Annabelle is in the audience listening. And I think I might have just given my best performance of my entire career.
39
Annabelle
Now
I’m more than a little nervous to join Hayes at the after-party. He’s promised me that there won’t be any press at the party, but I still worry about it. But I worry more about not showing up to support him, especially after he’s shown up for me every single day in every single way. So, I set aside my fears and press the up arrow on the penthouse elevator to head to the rooftop deck.
My hands tug on the skirt of the tight dress I’m wearing, and I fluff my hair one last time before stepping out. The band had a tent erected for added privacy and warmth, since it’s frigidly cold in Nashville in early February. But between the tent and all the space heaters, not to mention the free-flowing alcohol, I expect I’ll warm up quickly.
As soon as I see Hayes lounging on a couch, my nerves evaporate. The smile that lights up his face when he sees me sends a jolt of electric happiness down to my core. He stands and strides toward me, wrapping me in his arms.
“About fucking time you showed up, Yankee,” he mumbles into my hair.
“I had to keep you waiting to build anticipation, Hayes.”
“Consider the anticipation built. Can we leave now?”
With a laugh, I swat his chest. “No! We cannot leave yet. You need to celebrate your accomplishment with the guys.” Sliding my hands up to cradle his face, I stroke his cheeks with my thumbs. “I’m proud of you, Hayes. The album is beautiful.”
“So, you finally listened to it?” He aims that sexy, uneven smile at me, and like always, it makes me want to drop my panties.
“Yes, I did, and…” I shrug with a playful grin. “I didn’t hate it.”
“High praise coming from you. You better stop doling out the compliments or else my head might explode,” he teases.
Standing on my tiptoes, I whisper in his ear, “Oh, your head’s going to explode. Later. In my pussy.”
“Goddamn, Annabelle. You cannot say that kind of shit and then make me stay at this party,” he growls, his fingers flexing on my hip.
“Anna! You made it,” a slightly intoxicated Josh cries out, prying me out of Hayes’ embrace to give me a quick hug. And just like that, I get swallowed up into the melee, greeting the rest of the band and getting introduced to the others at the party. Bailey tugs me over to a seating area, and we spend the next little while catching up since I haven’t seen her since we had lunch.
Hayes brings me a glass of champagne and settles on the chair next to mine. He looks happy and relaxed, and I feel the same. I stroke his knee, giving him a squeeze and shooting him a smile. He laces hisfingers through mine and places our conjoined hands atop my thigh. When Bailey gets up to check on Rowdy, Hayes’ hand begins a slow ascent up my leg until his pinky hits the apex of my thighs. After a week without his touch, I crave it.
But when James slips into the chair Bailey vacated, I take a breath and convince myself to be patient a little while longer. So, I cross my legs to dislodge Hayes’ hand and aim a threatening glare his way. He just smirks that addictive, lopsided smile and keeps up the conversation with James.
Setting down my champagne flute, I excuse myself to find the ladies’ room. After finishing my business and washing my hands, I open my clutch, pulling out my lipstick. Swiping the bold red over my lips, I smile at my reflection in the mirror. Like the champagne that I’ve been drinking, I feel effervescent, bubbly and light.
As I exit the restroom, Hayes pounces. Before the door has time to swing shut behind me, he pushes me against the brick wall of the secluded hallway, trapping me with his body.
“You’re driving me fucking crazy, Annabelle,” he whispers, running his nose across my cheek before softly kissing my temple. His lips move across my skin as he continues his whispered torment. “Each time you cross and uncross your legs, your dress hitches up higher and higher on your thigh. Each time you lean over to pick up your glass, your tits nearly pop out of that scrap of fabric you call a dress. And all I want to do is throw you over my shoulder and take you out of here.” He pauses, his breath hot on my neck. “Or I could spread you out atop one of the tables.” His fingers toy with the bottom hem of my short dress. “I could push this up to your waist and bury my face between your legs. You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”
