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Her voice fades into a deep, dark tunnel. I focus on my screen. The message is unexpected.
Dax: The band isn't coming. Call me.
Chapter Thirty-One
Adam
Why am I still here?
I ask myself this question for the thirtieth time as I sip on the cold bottle of beer, press my bare feet into the sand, and stare out at the ocean that couldn't care less. Wave after wave laps on the shore, but not enough to drown out the laughter of the several dozen locals gathered behind me.
"All good?" Emily returns and plops down on the sand next to me. She's the reason I'm here at the far end of the beach on Sunday. I should be home in Indiana, back to doing what I do best—fading into the background.
After my disaster with Ariel, I went to lick my wounds and race to the airport. But Laredo showed up at the hotel and begged me to stay a little longer. Yesterday, he invited me over to his friend Betty's place and laid on me a bombshell I still haven't fully processed.
Then this morning, Emily called. Pleaded for five minutes for me to come to the Sunday gathering with the locals. She said she couldn't score a Sunday ticket to the music festival to see Devil May Care for Roy and decided to hang with him and his friends on the beach. The locals throw a party for everyone who can't afford the pricey Sunday showcase. A brilliantly named oControl-Alt-WeFeast festival. All week, they hang out on the boardwalk and dance to the music escaping from the stadium. But on Sunday, security doesn't allow people to gather and block the boardwalk.
I shrug my shoulders at Emily.
The beach isn't a place I want to be, but it's better than walking the boardwalk alone and hearing the music from the festival streaming everywhere. A part of me thought that by staying in town, Ariel would reach out. She hasn't.
Just the latest reminder that she doesn't do apologies. She doesn't do second chances. Walking away from her was hard. I knew my heart wasn't ready for it, but I had to do it. I know her history. I know what happened between her and her mom. She warned me—the don't warning still echoing in my head.
Roy slips onto the sand next to Emily, and they bump shoulders and share a laugh. She's not mentioned it, but that fact that she passed up the Sunday concert to be with Roy speaks volumes. At least one of us is finding a love connection. "Hey, Adam, thanks for coming." He glances over his shoulder. "Strange day today. We usually only have the locals here for this, but this year…" He doesn't finish his sentence. Not before a familiar face bends from behind me and gives my shoulder a squeeze.
"There you are." Dax Jones, the drummer from Devil May Care, bends on one knee next to me. "Long time, buddy."
My pulse immediately races. My eyelashes flutter to make sure I'm seeing right. "What are you doing here? Shouldn't you be…"
"Hey, baby bro," I recognize Laredo's voice before I see him. I hop to my feet and turn. He approaches, holding hands with Betty.
I wipe my hands on my shorts to shake away the sand. "Betty! Good seeing you again so soon." I attempt to capture Laredo's gaze, but he's engaged in a bro hug reunion with Dax.
What the hell is going on?
Emily stands, and I catch the smirk she shares with Laredo. She's in on whatever this is. Laredo pulls her into a quick hug, an unheard whisper between them before he waves to Betty to join them. Dax taps me on the elbow, and we take a step to the side. “Congrats on the song. It’s freaking incredible. Still waters run deep, nice.”
I nod, not expecting the compliment. Did Ariel send them in on a desperate last-minute recruitment campaign?
I glance over his shoulder in search of the rest of the band. "Did she send the entire band to get me, or just you and Laredo?"
He laughs and takes a long sip of his beer. "Your words reached her."
Words? What words? Dax must read the confusion on my face.
"We've been telling her for months that she's ready. Ready to stand on her own. But she didn't believe it until you proved it to her."
The workshop. He's talking about the workshop. "I didn't do anything other than get out of her way. I'm really good at that if you hadn't heard."
He chuckles at my self-deprecation. "I can see you thinking that, but whatever it is you've done this week has had an impact. She didn't send us here to get you." He glances back and waves his hand high in the air. "She sent us to make sure you were here before…"
I follow his sight line and spot a large gathering of bodies headed in my direction. A scrum of barefoot beach goers gathered around the rock goddess. She gives polite nods and soft smiles to the excited crowd who pepper her with unheard comments. But her gaze locks on me, and she continues to march. She gives me a half smile filled with nerves and uncertainty, and for that, I feel regret. Regret she would ever have any doubt in her mind I wouldn't be happy to see her.
My feet take a step in her direction. A small one. One to separate me from the gang behind me. One to give me a clear vision of the beauty making her way toward me. She's wearing torn black denim shorts and a tight purple tank top. An outfit that screams This is who I am. See me for who I am. All of me.
I've always seen her. And I've always loved what I've seen.
That's not the issue. Her stage slot begins in a little while. I assume the rest of the band is back at the stadium. Dax was sent to make sure I was here. And now, she's here.
