The one he used to strum quietly in the bus, when the crew was gone and it was just us. I was foolish enough to think our stolen nights together meant something to him. Back then, I pretended not to hang on every word.
Halfway through the second verse, his eyes lift, finding mine.
Technically, it’s just a glance, but it lingers a little longer than it should, pinning me in place. My pulse trips at hearing him sing the loving lyrics I once dreamed could be about me.
I make the mistake of not forcing myself to look away. And when he looks back over at me a minute later, it’s as if we’re in a game of chicken, and I have to win. But once he has me, he doesn’t let go. He holds my gaze as his voice dips softer.
I clench my jaw. My face stays blank, but inside, I’m as tumultuous as a thunderstorm.
“Hard to believe that something so intimate comes out of him, right?”
I jolt at Beau’s voice.
He slides in next to me on the log, close enough that I smell the faint cologne that probably costs more than I make in a week. His blond hair gleams in the firelight, and as usual, his smile is warm.
I give him a side-eye. “He’s all right.”
He laughs and shakes his head. “Yeah, not impressive at all. He should keep his day job for sure.” He gestures lazily toward Zander, still singing, still lost in the lyrics. “But you have to admire the way he can make everyone stop breathing and hang on his every word for three minutes.”
“Jealous?” I say, keeping my tone light.
Beau chuckles, cups his drink in his palms. “People don’t always appreciate how heavy it is, carrying the weight of that kind of attention.”
“Right,” I mutter, eyes fixed stubbornly on the crackle of flames instead of Zander now. “Must be exhausting being so adored.”
In my periphery, I see Beau tilt his head, studying me. “Believe it or not, he doesn’t love it. Twists your view on who is authentic.”
I snap my gaze to him. “You don’t need to be cryptic, Beau. Just say what you came over here to say.”
“I just want you to know that though most people think he has everything, that’s not true. He has fame. He has money. Hell, he has good looks. I mean, he’s not nearly as good-looking as me, but…” He smirks faintly. “But there’s more to life than all that.”
My chest tightens. “Are you expecting me to feel sorry for him?”
I think about the baby growing inside me and what will happen to that baby when I have to explain that his or her daddy didn’t show up for his scheduled visit.
“Maybe,” he says easily. “I wasn’t in those rooms with you. I don’t know the conversations you had, but you got him to stay here and that says something. At least to me. You know, his best friend for almost his entire life.”
The words hit me square in the heart. “Why are you telling me this? Clearly, he wanted things between us to be over. And I don’t appreciate?—”
“I’m just pointing out the facts.” He sighs and takes a quick glance at Zander. “Sometimes he gets in his own way.”
I stiffen, not entirely sure what he’s getting at but not willing to put any hope into what Beau’s implying. Zander was very clear about where we stood when he barred me from entry without any explanation.
Beau grins, apparently satisfied that he got under my skin, then goes quiet, letting the song fill the space between us.
Zander’s voice dips to the last line, softer, almost breaking. For a heartbeat, the world stills. Then the last chord rings out, and everyone reacts to the mastery they just witnessed.
People cheer, whistle, and clap as though he just gave them a concert’s worth of music and not one song. Zander tips his head, mouth curving in gratitude, but his gaze goes straight back to me, then to Beau, and back to me.
“Don’t worry, I didn’t tell him,” Beau says.
“What are you talking about?”
“He didn’t stick around because he feels bad for your family. He’s here because you asked him to be. I want to make sure you know that.”
I stare at him for a moment, then back at Zander, who is still looking at us.
“I have a feeling he was only singing to one person just now.”
