Page 71 of Kiss and Tell
I turned my attention to the photos. Some of them were of Connor on stage, as if they had been taken from the front row of the audience by a professional photographer. In many of them he was wearing leather pants or tight black skinny jeans. Sometimes he was shirtless, sometimes not. In all of them he looked hot as hell with a guitar in his hands under the bright stage lights.
I regretted that I’d never be able to experience seeing Connor on stage.
Some photos were from backstage, more casual. There were other people with him dressed in much the same way.
“These are your fellow band members?” I asked.
“Most of them,” he said.
I examined the photos but didn’t recognize too many people. I did catch Gael in one photo, along with a girl I did recognize, the one with dark red hair. Gael’s sister and the lead singer of his band Cherry Lips.
“Did you ever play with Gael and his sister?” I asked.
“We jammed together sometimes.” His voice was heavy with an unspoken weight. “They were always really dedicated to their band, though.”
I paused as my eyes fell on one guy. He looked familiar, and was one of the only people to appear in multiple photos. He wasn’t dressed in those leather pants, just plain faded jeans and t-shirts. I couldn’t place where I recognized him from.
I looked up from the photos to find Connor staring at them. A small, fond smile was on his lips, although his eyes were dark and wistful. I’d been wondering why he kept these photos on display when it must have been painful for him.
But from that slight smile I could tell that, however painful it was to look at them, Connor still had fond memories of his life on the road.
He had told me that he missed it. He’d said he thought about returning to that lifestyle all the time.
If he missed it so much, why didn’t he go back? Had the stress of constantly traveling and touring been that much of a hardship? I’d never experienced it myself. Maybe it was. I was a homebody, never traveling farther than a few cities away. I hadn’t even been out of the country.
I could imagine that being away for weeks at a time had to take a toll on a person, especially for someone like Connor who also had a problem with enclosed spaces. Like he’d said, tour buses weren’t the most spacious of places.
“Are you still in touch with anyone from back then?” I asked.
The corners of his mouth twitched down.
“A few,” he said. “There’s a couple guys I go out for beers with every so often. But it’s hard. Different lifestyles. Different priorities. You know how it is.”
Connor turned away from the photos on the fridge and rummaged around in the cupboard. He pulled out a box, put something in the microwave and hit the buttons.
“Are you making something?” I asked. “I’m still full from pizza.”
“Can’t have a movie night without popcorn.” He got out a large plastic bowl, large enough to hold an entire bag of popcorn and more.
“Movie night?” I repeated.
“I thought maybe we could have a Nicholas Sparks ugly-cry kind of night,” he said. “How do you feel about A Walk To Remember? I know it’s one of his older movies, so I figure it’s been a while since you’ve seen it.”
Connor had remembered. From that very first night at the bar, when he’d joked that I seemed like a Nicholas Sparks kind of girl. When he’d teased about enjoying a good night in.
And now here he was, having invited me back to his place…
…to watch an ugly-cry movie.
My heart fluttered sweetly in my chest.
“A Walk To Remember was my first,” I said.
I thought he might take the opening to make a suggestive comment, but instead he came up to me and placed a kiss on my forehead.
“I’ll get the Kleenex,” he said.
After grabbing a box of tissues and the bowl of popcorn, Connor and I settled next to each other on the sofa. I sat with my back straight and my hands in my lap at first, but as the movie progressed I found myself leaning toward him until I was pressed up against his side, my feet curled under me and my knees tucked against his thighs.
