Unedited.
Chapter One
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Having the world roll away under you takes some getting used to. I hadn't quite achieved my "tour bus legs" yet, was Emory's explanation. But in the quiet moments, when it was just me staring out the window watching flashes of color fly by, I told myself I didn't want to get used to it.
The band practiced and talked business in the back while I sat there. The sound of strumming starting and stopping at odd intervals made up the background noise, along with a random movie chosen off Netflix playing on the screen in front of me. I hadn't watched a moment of it. I was too entranced by the world around me, the bright streaks of color, and the jovial sounds of the band.
It was an interesting mix.
A good mix.
I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, soaking it all in. I never thought I'd be here. I convinced myself of so many things over the years, most of them self-demeaning, that I never considered this a possibility.
This was as far away as Pluto only a short time ago.
The sun came out from behind the clouds and even through the tinted windows I could feel the warmth on my face.
The storm had passed.
The clouds were clearing out.
Everything was well.
I didn't want to get used to this. I didn't want the wonder to end because I feared it would all come crashing down. It was an unfounded fear, I knew that, but I still had to pinch myself sometimes.
It didn't feel real.
Grady said it would pass, around the same time I gained my "tour bus legs" I imagined. But even he still had his moments. I'd catch him looking at me out of the corner of my eye. He would be still as a statue and unblinking, as if he was afraid to blink.
Blink and this would be gone.
I would be gone.
Everything we'd gone through since the reunion: gone.
And like me, he didn't want it to disappear.
End.
Draw to a close.
He invested everything, went all in, demand me to match him. Dared me to.
That's when I'd look up, lock eyes with him.
And he would blink.
When he found me still sitting there, the smallest of smiles would pour across his face. The staring was a habit, one he swore he would break. I hoped he didn't. Because in those moments, in that blink, I felt special. I felt, and I knew, his world revolved around me now.
Not the music.
Not the band.
Not L.A., being a rock star, or the money. Not his ex-wife.
Me.
I was the center and every time I caught him staring, that small, insignificant fact was reaffirmed for me. So I would smile back, not big or face splitting. Just a small gesture letting him know I got it. I understood. I was ok.
