Page 34 of Between Never and Forever
I was the one in band despite being terrible at it. Sav never showed any interest in playing an instrument or singing. I don’t even recall her mentioning popular musicians or songs. The fact that she’s in a band is extremely unexpected.
The moment the thought forms, I have to smile.
I suppose that’s Savannah. Everything she does is unexpected. She’s as unpredictable as a hurricane. Forget Vixen Viper as her stage name. She should have chosen Tempest.
“Done?” Jonah asks, stepping up onto the stage and handing me a drink.
I take it and nod my thanks. I don’t want to be rude.
“We’re done,” Mabel says, coming to stand next to me as Savannah, Torren, and Sean join us. “No thanks to you losers.”
Sean laughs. “It’s not my fault your instrument has a gazillion parts. Should have learned to play something that comes in fewer pieces. Easy in, easy out.”
“Just how you like it,” Torren drawls, and Sean sends him a wink.
“Exactly.”
Savannah sighs loudly and shoves past the guys, then snatches my hand. Without saying anything, she tugs me off the stage and over to a table against the wall. She pulls the high-top stool out, then puts her hands on my torso and maneuvers me backward until I’m sitting. The whole thing is awkward and silly, but that doesn’t stop me from fixating on the way the heat of her hands seeps through my thin shirt and warms my skin.
“Is this where you want me?” I ask, setting my drink on the tabletop.
She nods, then raises a brow at the glass.
“What are you drinking? How’d you get it?”
“Jonah.”
I study the mystery beverage. Something caramel brown on ice with a twist of orange rind floating at the top. I’m not old enough to get anything from the bar on my own, and I’ve only tried alcohol a few times, so when he handed it to me, I took it.
“Is it safe?”
Sav laughs. “If you’re asking if it’s good booze, the answer is probably no. If you’re asking if you’ll die from drinking it, the answer is also probably no.”
I start to laugh with her, but the sound dies on my tongue the moment she moves into my space. On instinct, I widen my legs so she can step between them, and she leans her hip against my inner thigh. I inhale deeply and fix my eyes on hers, refusing to let them wander to her purple bra and bare stomach. For the briefest moment, I catch a spark of nerves in her gray eyes.
“Is this your first show?”
She nods and sinks her teeth into her lower lip.
“Our first big one, yeah.” She reaches out and fidgets with the hem on my t-shirt. My ab muscles tighten on impulse, and I do my best to keep my cool. “We’ve played some house parties. A few dive bars. Once we played at some random illegal rave thing in a parking lot. But this is the first gig where we’re actually getting paid more than a hundred bucks. They’ve advertised us. We’re on the marquee. We’re even on their social media page.”
“This is awesome, Sav. You’re going to be great.”
She clicks her tongue sarcastically and cocks her head.
“How do you know? You’ve never heard us. For all you know we could suck hardcore.”
I smirk at her attitude, then reach out and give a strand of her dark brown hair a light tug.
“Because you’re a star, Savannah Shaw. A force of nature. A tempest. You’ll knock them all on their asses, and they’ll be begging you to do it again before the night is over. It’s just the way you are. You can’t help it.”
Her cheeks tint pink and her full lips curve upward, but she doesn’t say anything. She just locks me in with those swirling silver depths. When she opens her mouth to speak, feedback shoots through the speakers on the stage, making us both jump, then someone is saying “sound check” into the microphone. We look toward the stage and find Torren standing at the mic glaring at us.
I’m not surprised he’s the frontman. Lead singer. Probably lead guitarist, too. Jealousy surges when Sav gives my thigh a little squeeze, then walks away from me without another word.
Savannah steps onto the stage, and I watch in awe as the lights illuminate her every feature. The girl was made to be under a spotlight. I think part of me always knew it. She was always meant for something bigger than a dingy bedroom and a joyless life in our nowhere hometown.
For some reason, I expect Savannah to head to the small keyboard, away from centerstage, the mic, and the attention. Instead, I’m taken aback when Torren makes a show of stepping away from the lead microphone and presenting it to her. My slack jaw falls wide open when she not only takes her place at the mic, but then turns and takes a white electric guitar from Jonah.
