I shoved at the heavy door, and it opened wide. Cold air washed over me, and I gulped it in, keeping my grip tight on the door’s metal handlebar. It would lock me out if I didn’t. I took in another gulp and stepped back inside, closing the door carefully. My body slumped back against the wall with only the wan, red-lit “EXIT” sign above the door for company.
A soft groan rose up a few feet away from me, and my body tightened. I blinked, turning toward the groan, stepping back. Someone else was in this darkness with me. A guy, his arm outstretched against the wall, leaning over. Was he dizzy? Then he wasn’t doing much better than I was.
I took a step forward and in the red glow of the exit sign, I could make out wavy hair, long lean arms in a cut-off shirt. My pulse slapped me. My body stood at attention.
It was Beck.
“Hey—” My voice was more like a croak in the bristling silence of the hallway. I moved toward him. He took long, deep breaths. “Beck? Are you okay?”
He jerked back from the wall, his hand brushing at his mouth, narrowed eyes meeting mine in the dim red glow.
Would he remember me?
“Violet?”
Tingles raced over my skin. He remembered me.
“Yeah, it’s me. Are you okay?”
He sniffed in air. A hand slid around his throat. Silver rings on his long fingers gleamed in the dimness. “Yeah I’m … better now.”
“Do you need water?”
“Um—”
“A bottle of tequila?”
He let out a tight laugh as he fell back against the wall, his hands digging through his hair, sweeping it away from his beautiful face. So beautiful. A tight jawline, flexing muscles along that jaw, revealing pronounced cheekbones that in this shadowy dimness made me itch to capture that remarkable face on film.
Those unique bright blue-green eyes paired with long, full lashes gave him a boyish sweetness that made for an intriguing contrast to his rough edges. He wore a number of rings, and both wrists were stacked in bracelets—silver, metal, beads, leather. His black leather belt had metal grommets which added a bit of edgy to his sexy laid back bohemian vibe. Maybe a little dirty, too.
My teeth scraped over my lower lip. “You sure you’re okay?”
He cleared his throat. “I needed a moment after…”
“Of course. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to come up on you like that. I’ll get out of your way.”
“No, Violet. You’re not in my way. Stay.” He moved to his side, still leaning against the wall, but now facing me. “Please stay.” His voice was suddenly a rough whisper that stopped me in my tracks.
“Okay.” Both of us stared at the other. Say, say, say, say something, Violet. “You were fantastic up there on stage.”
“Thanks.” His arms wrapped around his middle.
“The song was beautiful. And the way you sang was…beautiful.” Ugh, I’d lost my vocabulary and sounded like a starstruck fangirl. Wait, I was a fangirl. I pushed my hair away from my face. “You have a real gift, Beck. You got up out of nowhere on that stage, and…”
I was babbling again. Leave the guy alone. My lips pressed together.
“And?”
I lifted my gaze to his sea crystals. To hell with it, blame the whiskey sours. “And you blew us all away.”
An eyebrow lifted. Lips parted.
“Your voice, that song, those lyrics for your mom—I don’t think I’ll ever forget it.” My voice shook as I spilled the words. I never got nervous talking to people. This was different. This conversation bit straight to my quick.
“Why?” he asked.
“Why?”
“Tell me.”
The words stampeded up my throat. I knew exactly why. “Your bare honesty. Your creative truth. You, up there, expressing a deep, real part of yourself through your own work. And it was so natural for you. So sincere. You laid out your heart, and it was the most powerful thing I’ve ever witnessed. I envy that. I admire you.”
He stood up straight. “Violet—” He said nothing more, a ragged silence stretching between us.
Had I embarrassed him or just embarrassed myself? I wanted to zip into the nearest hole in the wall, like a cartoon mouse. “Uh—let me get you a bottle of water. There’s a stash over here.” My face blazed with heat, and I darted toward the stacked packs of juices and water bottles in the small storage area off the hall. Clawing at the thick plastic in the dark, I willed my face to not be beet red by the time I was finished.
Finally, I was able to yank a water bottle free from its plastic prison. “Here you go. It’s not cold—”
“It’s perfect, thanks.” He cracked open the top and drank deeply, his throat moving. He wiped at his wet lips and met my gaze. “This is going to sound stupid…”
“Try me.”
“All these months on tour, I haven’t gotten stage fright or nervous before a gig, not once. All those cities, thousands of people in these insane arenas—nope, just excitement. Every time I chomp at the bit to get out there and play, have fun with the crowd. But stepping out there tonight, now, freaked me the fuck out.”
“You were out there alone and maybe because this performance was so personally meaningful? You were playing for your mom in her town, not for the anonymous masses with your band opening for another band.”
“Yeah, exactly.” He let out a heavy breath, his lips tipping up into a small smile. “There’s a lot going on right now.” His defined shoulders relaxed. “It’s odd to be off the tour rollercoaster and in the real-life world for just a couple of days.”
“I’ll bet Meager must be a super shock to your system.” I let out a dry laugh. What was a tiny town in South Dakota compared to all the major cities of the United States?
“I got here, and suddenly everything’s at a different pace, and I have no idea how to keep pace or even if I want to. At this point, I’m not sure which is crazier: real-life or touring.”
“That’s so great that you took the time to come all the way here to visit your mom.”
“I had to.” He leaned a hand against the wall. “Mom called me and told me she was getting married. I wanted to meet her man, so I zipped up here the minute we had a break.”
“Yes. Finger. How did that go? Do you like him? Did you hit it off or—”
Violet!
I raised my hands in the air. “I’m sorry. Those are all really personal questions—”
“No, no, it’s okay. Really. I haven’t talked about it with anyone. He’s a good man. You live here, you know my mom. Have you met Finger?”
“A few times at the coffee house. And I’ve seen him and Lenore around town together.”
“They fit.”
“They do. That’s a great way to put it.”
“I’m so happy for her. It’s just…a shock.” He averted his gaze when he let that word out.
“Oh. It was unexpected?”
“Totally. Completely. All my life, the sure thing was that my mother belonged to no man, did her own thing her way, and screw you if you didn’t dig it. I respected that. Admired it even. She’d always seemed comfortable with being on her own. That’s the way it was with her. Total opposite from my dad, by the way. But that’s always been my mom. End of story.”