“Who would’ve thought.” She fidgets some more. Straightens a few pictures on her bookshelf. Moves a pillow on her couch. She’s nervous about something more than me being proud of her.
Oh, fuck.
My gaze goes immediately to her hands. To her fingers. To one finger, searching to make sure there is no shiny damn diamond on it.
My heart stops in my chest until I get a clear view and see that there isn’t one there. That she hasn’t met the love of her life and not told me. That she isn’t lost to me.
“Do you want a glass of wine?” she asks, her eyes narrowed as she stares at me. Probably because I have a pained and relieved look on my own face.
“Sure. Yes. Please.”
* * *
One Year Ago
I sneak through the back door of the bar. It’s one we frequent often when we’re in town so the manager knows me well enough to give me some privacy.
That and the hundred dollar bill I slip him when I do, doesn’t hurt either.
But after missing last year’s Evermore-McIntyre-Thanksgiving, there’s no way in hell I’m missing this year’s.
Besides, it’s been way too long since I’ve seen her. And even longer since I’ve been able to sit with someone who knows the old me. Someone who will judge me and harass me and treat me like I’m fucking normal.
But confusion is the name of the game when I turn the corner to find Annie sitting there, a glass of whiskey in her hands, and a smile on her face as she laughs with the man next to her.
Come again?
“Annes?” I say, trying to hide the surprised confusion in my voice.
“Lyric.” She’s on her feet in a second and in my arms the next. “It’s so good to see you. It feels like it’s been forever.”
“Since Rome,” I murmur, holding onto her a little tighter as I worry about what her next words are going to be.
“You look good.” She eyes me up and down, her eyes going to my tattoos to see if there are any new ones. I almost wish I’d inked some more on there so she would find them. So she would notice me. “Lyric, I want you to meet my boyfriend, Richard.”
And there are the words I was dreading hearing.
Richard.
Hmpf.
Maybe we should just cut to the chase and call him Dick.
The smile is forced on my lips as I reach my hand out to the guy in the crisp white dress shirt and the stick up his ass. “Dick? Nice to meet you.”
“No. It’s Richard,” Annie warns as she puts her hand on my forearm and squeezes. “I thought it was time that the two most important guys in my life finally met.”
I feel like I’m swallowing glass as I pick up Annie’s whiskey off the table and help myself to a long sip of it. “Good. Great.” I nod as he shakes my hand. Can’t he get a better grip? “Shall we order more drinks?”
And as we wait for drinks to come, I watch Annie smile at Dick and grit my teeth every time she does.
Happy looks good on her.
So does love.
Then why am I hating this so much? Is it the invasion on our tradition? Is it that she never even mentioned Dick to me the times we’ve talked? Is it . . .
Oh shit.
I’m in love with her.
I love Annie McIntyre.
That’s what this is, isn’t it?
Jealousy and confusion own the polite nods of my head and the forced smiles . . . but the dread in my gut is heavy. The fear that maybe the one thing I never realized I wanted has been under my nose all this time.
Serves you right, asshole. You’re not good enough for her anyway. Annie is everything good that you aren’t. She’s the sunshine while you’re the pitch black night.
She notices my sigh and gives me a look that asks if I’m okay. I smile in response.
I’m fine.
I always have been, right?
Besides, I can get any woman I want.
But she just won’t be the one I’m pretty sure I’m in love with.
* * *
“Wine for you, fine sir.”
“Thank you, milady.”
We stand a foot apart, our smiles as soft as the light all around us, and the silence between us finally comfortable like old times.
But hell are my nerves running rampant.
Especially after I remember how seeing her made me feel last year. After realizing that no amount of touring or other women or losing myself in songwriting can take away the pull this woman has on me.
I tried to forget my revelation from that night. I attempted to bury it in my work and in my play.
But right now, I know it to be truer than ever.
I’m in love with Annie McIntyre.
“Why the sudden serious face?” she asks as a smile tugs at the corner of my lips.
I offer a chuckle as I take her wine glass from her and set both of them down on the table beside us. Her gaze narrows as she tries to figure out what I’m doing.
“Lyric?”
Somehow her hands are in mine. I’m so nervous, I don’t remember grabbing them but they’re there, and her fingers link with mine without me ever asking her to.
“I think it’s time we finish something we started years ago. Something I was too scared to follow through with. Something I was too chickenshit to tell you last year. I love you, Annie. I’m in love with you.” She opens her mouth and then closes it as the shock of my words hit her. And then I panic. Then I know I need to explain and make my case. “And this—seeing you—is the one thing I look forward to every year, but it’s not enough for me anymore. I want more. And I want more with you. I know my life is chaotic when you prefer calm. I know my life is unpredictable when you prefer structure. I know that you like discipline and I fly by the seat of my pants. I know—”
“Stop!” she says with a laugh that is deep and rich and puts color in her cheeks. “Just shut up and kiss me already.”
“What?”
She steps forward and presses her lips to mine. They’re even softer than I remember. And the kiss even better.
She tastes like home.
She is home.
Annie rests her forehead against mine as my head swims with a dizziness I’ve never felt before.
“I’ve been in love with you since that first night Lyric.” The heat of her breath feathers over my lips. “I’ve told myself I was crazy. That we’d never work. But you’re who I want to pick up the phone and call when things go bad or are good. You’re the bright spot in my life. So see? It’s official.”
I chuckle. I may not have remembered all the lines from that first night we met, but I remember this one. “What’s official?” I play along.
“This. Us,” she murmurs against my lips.
“Thank God, because there’s nowhere else I’d rather be.”
“Forever more,” she whispers.
“Forever more.”
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