Chapter Thirty-Seven
Jonathan
“Hello?”
“Jonathan. How are you doing?”
I bite back a groan, irritated with myself for not checking to see who was calling before automatically answering my phone. I’m not in the mood to deal with my mother right now.
“I’m fine. A little busy at the moment. Can I call you back tomorrow?” I toss the pen down on the coffee table next to the pad of paper where I’m writing down the night’s set list. Sitting back on the couch, I scrub a hand over my face. I’m so damn tired. And pissed at everyone. This phone call is the last thing I need today.
“I won’t keep you long. I know you have a show tonight. I wish I could be there to see you three boys playing together again.”
“Yeah. It’ll be just like old times.” I can’t keep the flat quality out of my voice.
She clears her throat. “I saw the articles today. And I wanted to check and make sure you were okay.”
I grit my teeth. “Don’t get your hopes up, Mom. I’ve told you a million times that Charlie’s like a little sister to me. There’s nothing going on between us.”
“I know,” she says softly. “And Charlotte’s a lovely girl, but I know she’s not right for you.”
“You do?” I’m so shocked that I ask the question without thinking.
Mom sighs. “Yes. I’ve always known that.”
“Then why did you try so hard to push us together?”
“Appearances.” I can almost see her little half shrug. “Perception is as important as reality in your business. She would’ve been good for your career.”
I let out a humorless chuckle and rub my eyes again. “I seem to be doing fine on my own.”
“I know. You are. You’re doing amazing.” She pauses. “But I’m worried about you. And Gabby. She was performing with you, and then suddenly she’s not scheduled for any more concerts, and your cancellation announcement didn’t explain anything.”
“Colt didn’t fill you in?”
It’s her turn to laugh softly. “No. Whenever I ask about you these days, he tells me to talk to you. So I am. I know the articles speculating about you and Charlie getting together are false. But is there truth to the prospect of you and Gabby breaking up?”
She sounds genuinely concerned. And I can’t for the life of me figure out why. “Wouldn’t that make you happier? Fewer distractions for me, after all.”
Silence stretches between us, and I’m about to end the conversation and hang up when she softly says, “I know I’ve said it before, but I don’t think you believe me. I really, truly am sorry about what I did this summer. It was inexcusable. And I know you don’t want me meddling in your relationship. And I wouldn’t even be calling and asking about this except …”
I try to wait, but I’m impatient. “Except?”
“Except from what I can gather about you from Colt, you’re unhappy. And you haven’t seen Gabby in a few weeks. And she’s mysteriously pulled out of her scheduled concerts. And … she’s been good for you. Musically, yes, but also personally. You’ve matured a lot since you’ve been with her. And you’re producing songs that are better than ever. Colt sent me the cell phone recording he did of one of your most recent songs. It’s even better than what’s on your album. And I thought all of those were amazing. You’re—“ She cuts herself off, sounding choked up.
And I have to clear my own throat to get rid of the lump that’s formed there. “Thanks, Mom. That means a lot.” I’m not being a sarcastic ass now. Her opinion, especially about my music, has always mattered to me.
“So what’s going on with you and Gabby?”
I let out a sigh. “I don’t know. She has school stuff. An opera to play for. When she told me about it, that the rehearsal schedule had conflicts with my shows, I told her we could put out the announcement saying she couldn’t play those shows. But things have been weird ever since. We’ve barely talked since then. And I had to cancel my visit to her so Brendan, Colt, and I could get our stuff figured out for this weekend.” I rub my hand over my face. “I think she’s mad at me. Or tired of the long-distance thing. I know I’m tired of it.”
Mom waits for a minute before responding. “But you’re still together?”
“As far as I know.”
“Good. Okay. So you just need to talk to her. Get on the same page.”
If only it were so easy. “Except she’s on the other side of the country.”
“Well—“ but I miss the rest of what she’s saying, because someone’s pounding on the door of my dressing room.
“Hang on, Mom. Someone’s at the door.” When I open it, Charlie’s on the other side, her face flushed.
“Hey! You busy?”
I hold up my phone. “Talking to my mom.”
“Hi, Shannon!” she calls to the speaker. “Jonathan has something important to take care of. Show tonight. I’m sure you understand.” And without any warning, her finger darts out and hits the end button.
“Hey!” I protest.
But she gives me a look. “Whatever, Jonathan. You were probably dying to get off that phone call anyway.”
“It actually wasn’t that bad,” I grumble, tucking my phone into my pocket. I’ll figure out what Charlie wants and call my mom later to apologize.
“You finished the set list for tonight?”
“Not yet. I was working on it when my mom called. Wanna come in and see what I’ve got so far? You can help me choose what to fill in the spot where Gabby was supposed to be.”
“I think I’ve got just the thing. But you need to come with me so I can demonstrate.” She grabs my wrist and pulls me out the door. I’m more curious than anything else, so I let her drag me along without resisting. She’s fierce and has a strong grip, but I’m sure I could break it if I wanted to. It’s obvious she’s trying to cheer me up. She knows things have been weird with me lately.
What I don’t expect is for her to throw open a door and shove me into a room, slamming the door closed behind me without following me in.
Or Gabby standing across the room.
She gives me a little wave and a nervous smile, but she doesn’t move toward me. “Hey.”
“Hey.” I want to go to her, but the fact that she isn’t coming to me makes me hold back. I glance back at the closed door then around the room, looking for some clue about what’s going on. Finally I look at Gabby again, my brow furrowed. “I thought you had rehearsal this weekend.”
She swallows, her throat visibly working. “Yeah. I’m missing it.”
“But …” Now I’m just confused. “Why?”
She sucks in a breath. “Do you not want me here?”
I take two steps toward her before I stop myself, still unsure what’s going on. “God, no. I mean yes.” I close my eyes and grip my hair. “Fuck. I mean, of course I want you here.” I open my eyes to look at her, still standing in the same spot, her arms crossed, her feet shifting nervously. “I always want you with me. Why would you even ask that?”
She wraps a strand of hair around her fingers and looks away, her eyes blinking rapidly. “Um, well, when I told you about the opera thing, you were like, ‘Oh, great. No big deal. Miss all the shows you want.’ I thought maybe you didn’t care if I were here or not. Didn’t really want me playing with you anymore.”
I can’t hold myself back, and I cross the remaining distance separating us, my hands gripping her upper arms. “What? No. Never think that. I’d love nothing more than for you to join me on tour. Play every concert with me. But you’ve always wanted to go to school. Get your degree in violin performance. Play with an orchestra. I’m not going to hold you back from that or ask you to give it up for me. You tell me you need to do something to pursue your dream, and I’ll do everything in my power to make it happen. Even if it means I get less time with you.”
Her breath leaves her in a whoosh. “Oh my God.” She closes her eyes, one hand coming to her forehead. “Lauren was right. I can’t believe I’m such a moron.”
“What are you talking about?”
She gives me a crooked smile. “I’ve been miserable for like a week and a half, thinking you were tired of me, or didn’t want me around anymore. When I called to tell you about the opera, I thought you were going to say that the music department should go fuck itself and I should just join you on tour full time. I expected you to be at least a little upset at the prospect of me not playing with you. Not coming to visit you.”
Wrapping my arms around her, I pull her body tightly against mine. “I was more than upset. Everything in me rebelled at the idea that I’d get less time with you. But I didn’t want to get in your way. I’ve been fucking miserable too. And then you pushed me away. Stopped talking to me. I didn’t know what to do.”
She snorts and pushes back on my chest so she can look up at me. “You canceled your trip to visit me.”
I let out a groan. “That pissed me off so much. I knew it was terrible timing to not be able to come see you. I’d planned on locking you in my room and making you talk to me. You were so distant. I hated it. But that was the only time Brendan could get with us before this weekend, so I had to stay with the tour and get things worked out for the mini Brash reunion portion of tonight’s show.”
“I thought you wanted a break from me.”
The confession is little more than a whisper. I tilt her chin up and cover her mouth with mine, needing to reassure her of my feelings with more than just my words. She opens for me, and my tongue sweeps into her mouth. The feel of her against me again snapping things back into place.
When I pull back, I cup her jaw with both of my hands. “Never. I’ve never wanted a break from you. I always want you with me. I always want you to play with me. Marycliff can go fuck itself. Come on tour with me and play with me all the time.”
Her eyes light up and a wide grin spreads across her face. “Okay.”
I blink. I didn’t actually expect her to answer that quickly. Or that positively. “Okay?”
She nods eagerly. “Yes. I’ll come on tour with you. Play every concert with you. Starting with tonight, if you want.”
I glance around the room again, noticing her violin case tucked into the corner of the room. A slow grin spreads across my face. “You came prepared, I see.”
“Charlie told me to bring it.”
My eyes refocus on hers. “Charlie?”
“She’s the reason I’m here. She called earlier today, thinking that you were so cranky because we’d had a fight about the articles today. I hadn’t even seen them until she said something. So she dragged the whole story out of me, then sent her plane for me. And here I am.”
I pull her in close and hug her tight again. “Remind me to thank Charlie later.” Then I duck my head and kiss her again. Joy surges in my chest when I realize I’ll get to do this every day. And she’ll stay with me every night. And we can play together at every show.
Shit.
The show.
I pull back, looking down at her pink, swollen lips, her glazed eyes, the way her breasts rise and fall with her rapid breathing. “Dammit. As much as I’d love to finish this reunion the right way, we’ll have to wait. I have to finish the set list.” My eyes move over her face, so happy she’s here. “And now that you’re here, I know exactly what we’ll be playing.”