He tugs on her hand to look at him. “You can do this. Play your new stuff. There’s hardly anyone here, but I bet you’ll be surprised by the reaction.”
“No, it’s not ready to be performed yet,” she insists.
“Don’t think of it as performing then. Just practice. Imagine it’s just us here,” he comforts and my eyebrows raise in surprise that he’s talking her…gently. I mean gently for him that is.Huh. Didn’t expect that.
She turns to me, searching for something, either moreencouragement or for me to save her. But I hate to admit in this situation Asher is right. Is this a little crazy and kind of risky? Yes, but it’s also good for her. She can perform in front of stadiums no problem, but that’s after months of preparation and practice. She wants everything perfect. This is raw, stripped down and unexpected. It pushes her out of her comfort zone, which is exactly what she needs.
“You got this, Sunshine. It’s just us here,” I tell her, softly. I want to kiss her, but I can already see the headline and front page story if I did that.
Our families would be pissed if the whole world found out before they got to admit they’ve been right about us. There’s going to be a solid few hours of gloating from everyone about that. Honestly, that’s the part I’m not looking forward to. The other part is questions, mostly from my brother, about where Asher fits into all of this.
But I don’t need to worry about that right now. All that matters is Rae stepping up the small stage and taking the guitar from the guy that performed before her. I zero in on her hands to see the shaking she tries to disguise.
“Why’re you doing this?” I murmur to Asher as Rae sits on the stool, adjusting the guitar on her lap and moving the microphone to where she wants it.
“Do you think she should remain in her bubble she’s created for herself forever?”
“It’s gotten her this far, hasn’t it?” I scoff.
“Why not go farther?”
“But why?”
He turns to look at me. “Do you think you’re the only one capable of caring about her?”
“So you care about her?”
He makes a huffing noise, facing forward as Rae strums the string on the guitar once, probably checking the tuning. She’s able to tune anything by ear, something I’ve always been fascinated with. I don’t question Asher anymore, but I am surprisedby his answer. I figured this was just fun for him. Something to pass time while he’s here and will end up going back to Oregon.
“H-Hi,” Rae speaks into the microphone and it’s louder than she expects because she backs up with a grimace.
I can’t help but smile watching her like this. It’s so different than when she’s on a large stage in front of thousands of people. For some reason she’s more at ease than right now in a small bar with maybe five other people. Including the bartender and the guy that was on stage before her.
Looking at her like this you’d never expect the larger than life person that she can be. That’s Rae Sparks, though, and this is Rae Colver. This is the woman I grew up, the girl that would spend days at the family cabin in the winter curled up by the fire writing songs and humming them under her breath. The girl that would lay by the lake in the summer and listen to music only she could hear in her head.
The girl that grew up into the most magnificent woman I’ve ever met in my life. A woman I know I could never live without.
Rae plays the first set of chords to an unfamiliar song. This isn’t the one she played for us in the studio, this is a new one. It’s got a somber tone to it. She sings about love being a tragedy and I furrow my brow watching her. By the end of the song I understand. It’s sad, hauntingly beautiful, but it’s honest and raw about love being a tragedy, but not wanting to miss out on any of it.
She moves into the next song flawlessly. This is the one she played for us at the studio. The one about her finding herself, exploring who she is and embracing every piece of her she’s shied away from. At one point during the song her eyes find mine, and Asher’s. Especially when she sings about fear of who she may really be.
As the song comes to an end she stops the chords with her hand over the strings, and looks up nervously. I start clapping enthusiastically for her, the rest of the bar joins in even if they don’t know what they’re clapping for exactly, but I do. She’staking a risk with her new sound, with Asher and me. And it’s all going to be worth it.
She’s beaming as she walks over to us.
“You’re incredible,” I tell her, my hands itching to pull her into me and kiss the life out of her.
“How does it feel?” Asher asks.
“Good, thank you for making me do that.” She smiles at him.
“You feeling better about your new direction?” I can’t stop myself from pulling her for a side hug. If anyone wants to take a picture of that, no one would think anything of it. And I need to touch her.
“Yeah, I know this wasn’t exactly a big crowd, but it helped.”
“Good, now I know something else that’s going to help.” Asher smirks. “But we have to take you back home for that.”
Her cheeks flush, and she picks up her drink she barely got to touch, and starts gulping it down quickly. I remember the first time she got drunk; we were in high school and for some reason our parents trusted us home alone for a weekend. Easton threw a party at our house and everyone came, except Asher. He’d moved away by then, and I doubt he would’ve joined us anyway. Evie and Steele also weren’t there, they’re older than the rest of us, and sometimes like to pretend they’re more responsible. We all know it’s not true, but they can pretend.