They said they weren't going to see each other on Grammy night. Not tonight. Why was he here? She felt him as soon as he walked through the door, and even through the after party crowd she could see the unmistakable hair and eyes. She took a minute to compose herself before approaching him from behind.
"You could have called, you know," she said, her voice raspy against his ear. He turned and smiled, looking at her with relief. He hated these things. Without a word, he grabbed her and pulled her against him, holding on a little too long.
"I didn't think I was going to get away," he said, his words muffled against her hair, not letting go.
It had been a month since they'd been in a room together. A really long, agonizing month. Vegas seemed like an eternity ago. She told him she needed space. It was true, but it was absolutely not what she wanted. She'd cried herself to sleep almost every night.
Eventually they let go of each other, and spoke to some people. Stevie chatted away, laughing and making people laugh. He'd always envied her ability to carry on a conversation with anyone. She watched him stuff his hands in his pockets and scan the room awkwardly. He hadn't come to be at the party. He wanted to talk to her.
The guest moved on, and Lindsey used the lull to his advantage. His arm slipped around her shoulder. "Can we get out of here?" She nodded and let him take her hand. A leather clad arm was extended to her and she took it gratefully, a little wobbly on her feet as he lead her to the door. She couldn't hold her wine like she used to.
The valet took their ticket, and Lindsey held her hand while they waited for his car. How long had it been since they'd been alone in a car together? She couldn't remember.
He helped her into the passenger seat, and she exhaled deeply as she watched him tip the valet and walk around the car. What was he thinking? Asking him seemed impossible.
He slid in to the driver seat and his hand immediately found hers.
"Hi." He flashed her a crinkly smile, obviously relieved to be away from the crowd.
"Hi," she said, returning the smile and allowing herself to meet his stare for just a second. Those eyes were her undoing.
"You look beautiful tonight."
"Thank you," she said, blushing a little. Damn him. "Where are we going?"
"Somewhere we can talk." He turned his attention to the road, and she stared at their entwined fingers. His hands had always grounded her, somehow. Sometimes she felt like they were the only thing tethering her to the earth when everything around her was spinning. Her thumb caressed his idly during their silence, and he gave her hand a squeeze.
"How have you been?" It sounded like small talk, but they both knew it wasn't. It was Stevie's feeble attempt to start the painful conversation they needed to have.
He hesitated. "I've missed you." The words came out slowly, like a confession. All she could do was nod. "Sorry to pull you away tonight, but with Chris coming back, recording, the tour, we just..."
"We need to figure out what to do. I know." They fell silent again. Lindsey was winding through the hills, and she stared out the window, watching the city lights below them.
He finally stopped and turned off the car. This was where they'd go when they were too broke to go on dates. They would sit and talk about the mansion they'd own up here, what their life would be like. Now they had their mansions, everything they'd dreamed about sitting on the hood of their car 40 years ago. Stevie reflexively looked down at her naked ring finger. How different would everything have been? She couldn't let herself go there right now.
