The Distance Between Us (Book Two ✓)

thirty-two

BEAU

Emma's hand on my thigh does nothing to calm the frantic bouncing of my leg as we sit in my dressing room, waiting until Rey gets through part of her opening act. Rocco is across the room, smoking a cigarette and running over some last minute details for a fire trick we're trying out on stage tonight.

For the first time in years of performing, I'm nervous, and it has nothing to do with the flames that will shoot up from the stage. As if on cue, Beck returns from the bathroom then and sweat gathers in my palms.

For fucks sake, why did I ask him to come?

I close my eyes tightly and run a hand through my hair, using all of my concentration to not tell Beck to just forget about it and leave.

"Man, this is so sick." Beck grins, taking a seat across from Emma and me. "You're a real life rockstar. Who would've thought?" He settles into the leather couch, peering around the dressing room another time. Jason, a member of my security detail, never takes his eyes from Beck's blond head, suspicion coloring his expression.

Beside me, Emma tenses up. "Anyone who has heard Beau perform would expect nothing less." Her fingers curl around mine protectively.

"You got me there." Beck rubs the back of his neck sheepishly. "But really, thanks for doing this. I meant what I said. I really want us -"

I stand abruptly, the familiar burn at the back of my throat intensifying the longer I sit next to my brother. Beck and Emma both eye me carefully but I ignore them, muttering something unintelligible about going to the bathroom and walking off.

Once I'm alone in the bathroom, I splash cold water on my face and stare at myself in the mirror. Sad eyes that remind me of my mother stare back at me.

"Get a grip," I groan at my reflection, beads of water dripping from my chin. "It's just a concert."

But it isn't, is it? It's Beck. Beck, the golden child, loved by parents, teachers, and coaches alike. Beck, the charmer, able to weasel his way into any girls heart, or pants, for that matter. Beck, who hated me for being weird almost as much as our father had.

Beck, who is here now trying to make amends.

My stomach lurches when it finally sinks in that I've left Beck alone with Emma. Pregnant girlfriend or no, Beck is not blind.

I nearly growl in frustration, clenching my fists around the porcelain bowl of the sink as if I might crush it in my hands.

Maybe this has nothing to do with Beck, and everything to do with the fact that my mother is dead.

Her name engraved in that headstone burns in my memory, fanned by the idea that I wasn't there for her.

How could I have been? The other part of my mind retorts mercilessly. She never was for me.

A gentle knocking at the door makes me let go of the sink finally, my knuckles sore from gripping so hard. Wiping my face with a paper towel roughly, I open the door and see Emma standing behind it.

"You're on in five." Her big, brown eyes stare up at me, wide and full of worry. Should she be worried? The fire in my throat is scorching, the temptation to just give in a little and make everything go away growing stronger. "Are you okay?"