“It ain’t me, babe,” we sing together, our voices in pitch-perfect harmony. “It ain’t me you’re lookin’ for.”
My eyes are locked on his. I can’t look away. There’s a current running between us, invisible threads knitting the air in an unbreakable tether as we sing about two lovers who couldn’t be more wrong for each other. I find myself leaning closer to him without any conscious thought. With every word that passes my lips, I’m pulled a little farther into his orbit, and I’m utterly powerless to stop it.
There’s a natural, undeniable chemistry in the way his deep tones round out my higher ones; how my sweetness tempers his rasp. It’s a whole far greater than the sum of its parts; a complementary pairing that betters us both. The realization is staggering, and I see the same surprise reflected in Ryder’s mismatched irises as he stares back at me.
It’s safe to say, neither of us was expecting this. Not by a long shot.
When my part is finished, I simply watch him as he croons the final verse alone.
“I’m not the one you want, babe,” he sings, never looking away from my eyes. “I’ll only let you down.”
Maybe it’s my imagination, maybe I’m just caught up in the song… but I’d swear on a stack of bibles, he’s trying to tell me something that has nothing to do with the lyrics. His fingers strum the final notes and silence descends. And… there’s a moment. Just one, aching, heartbreaking moment before the applause, before the cheers and whistles from our small crowd… before the magic shatters apart like glass…
I sway toward him…
He leans closer, the tiniest shade of distance…
My eyes are on his lips, his hand is on my knee… and those miles that usually separate us seem to dwindle down to nothing…
A moment.
One, gossamer, glittering moment, when it actually seems possible.
Him and me.
Together.
But then, the applause rings out like a gunshot, and abruptly we remember where we are.Whowe are.
We both pull back at the same instant, eyes averted. And I notice, for the rest of our time at Elmwood, even as we walk Gran back to her room and say goodnight, he doesn’t meet my eyes again. Not even once.
* * *
The rideback to Nashville is eerily quiet.
After a day full of laughter and deep life discussions, it feels strange to retreat to our respective corners. Strange… but undeniably safer.
Ryder takes the back roads, cracking the windows to let in some of the night air. He lights a cigarette, inhaling deeply and blowing smoke out the window so I don’t have to breathe it in. I bite my tongue to keep from telling him he should quit.
I’m not his girlfriend. It’s not my place to interfere in his life.
When we pull into the staff parking lot behind The Nightingale, it’s past eight and open mic night is in full swing. Before I’ve even climbed out of the van, I hear music rattling the walls. There’s no way I’ll be able to sleep until the bar closes.
“Looks like my plans for an early night won’t be happening.” I smile tentatively.
He just nods, his expression empty.
“Anyway…” I swallow hard, staring down at my hands. “Thanks so much for today, Ryder. It was… It meant a lot to me. And to Gran. Even if she doesn’t know it…” I put my hand over my heart. “I know she felt it.”
He makes a low sound in his throat. A groan. It sounds almost… pained.
I glance up into his eyes, hoping he’s finally going to say something. Anything.
I had a great time too, Felicity.
Thank you for singing with me.
Let’s do this again sometime.
But he doesn’t say a word. He just stares straight ahead, hands gripping the steering wheel so hard his knuckles have gone white, a muscle ticking rhythmically in his jaw.
I guess that means the night is officially over. That this — whatever this was between us — is over, too.
My eyes start to fill with mortifying tears, so I turn and grab my door handle before he notices.
“Anywho, thanks a bunch!” I call in a falsely bright voice, jumping onto the curb. “See you around, Ryder.”
The door slams behind me with chilling finality as I race for the back stairs, yanking my keys from my bag before I’ve reached the top step. I never look back as I fumble with the lock. Not once.
I close myself inside, hearing his engine roar like a wild beast as he drives off into the night. Sinking slowly to my knees, I curl into a ball of misery while music from downstairs rattles the floorboards beneath me.