Behind the Strings (8 page)

20

A couple days after Logan had left I received a text from Jesse. We set up a time for an interview, and I admit, the workday seemed to have been dragging out more than usual the day of. The anticipation of seeing him again built up with each hour that passed. Jaycie was convinced there was more to this meeting than business and secretly I hoped she was right. If anything I hoped I could at least unscramble the uncertainty about these thoughts of mine that surrounded him. I thought he was handsome, but did I like him? His smile was captivating, but could he make me laugh? Was this just a crush that would blow over once we really got to know each other? Those were all questions I needed answers to and I nearly jumped out of my chair when it was time to go home and get ready.

It was well past sunset by the time I slowly pranced up the stairs in my coral heels to meet Jesse in the open foyer. I rarely came to this part of town, but had always heard good things about this rooftop lounge, so when Jesse said his friend would be playing, it sounded like the perfect spot to meet.

His tanned skin blended nicely under a white polo, and the sapphire in his eyes was much more vibrant as the hair that normally swept in front of them was gelled back.

“Shall we?” he asked once I had gotten closer.

He wrapped his fingers through mine and all I could do was smile and let him lead the way.

The lights were dim and the music played softly through the speakers as we entered the lounge. Most people were settled on the leather couches scattered throughout, with fancy colored martinis in their hands. It was a far cry from the sea of cutoff shorts and cowboys boots Jesse had spent the afternoon playing in front of.

“My friend Grant plays here every week. Amazing songwriter,” Jesse said.

We had sunk into a pair of ottomans on the opposite side of the bar. Jesse slid his close enough to me so that every time he turned his knee would graze mine. I pulled out a tiny notebook from my purse to make sure I captured any important details for my interview, but I had a hard time concentrating on the questions I had prepared. I had no idea what cologne he was wearing, but he smelled just as amazing as he did the first night we met. I’d grasp a scent each time he’d swing himself back to face me and I would get thrown completely off-thought.

“Why here?” I asked. “Doesn’t really feel like the normal scene.”

“Grant’s not much for the spotlight,” he said, “he just likes to be able to play out loud the songs he writes. Doesn’t need any standing ovations. You’ll never find any media here, so most low-key writers love it.”

“And what about you?”

“What about me?” he repeated.

He slid a little closer to me with that statement, ordered two of the daily specials from the waitress who finally arrived and went into detail about his love for songwriting.

“Songwriting for me has been about healing the soul, has been for as long as I can remember. My dad was a huge Johnny Cash fan. It’s all that ever played in my house in the early years. He lived and breathed every song he ever wrote. Cash’s music was so…raw. Every word he sang, I swear, it’s tattooed on my soul. His songs were the first I ever played when I started learning guitar. I’d sit in my room for hours and play them over and over again.”

“Johnny Cash,” I said. “You’re dad’s got amazing taste.”

“The best,” he said.

A somber look appeared in Jesse’s eyes. Almost as if there was something hidden in between the lines of his story I couldn’t see. The look on my face must’ve changed to a sympathetic one because the next time Jesse looked up at me, he cut that topic of conversation short.

“Anyway,” he said, “that was where my love for music began. Right out of high school I packed up whatever could fit in the back seat of my coupe and hit the road for Nashville. I spent a lot of time writing on my own and I’d perform wherever I could. I used to be one of those guys on the street with a guitar case full of change. I lived in a one-bedroom apartment with four other guys my first year here because it’s the only way I could afford a roof over my head, but as long as I could sing, I didn’t care. When I wasn’t singing I was introducing myself to people, and one day I happened to shake hands with someone who changed my life. I got a publishing deal and I’ve been lucky enough to had been involved in some writes that have produced some pretty successful songs.”

I loved the passion and drive that encompassed Jesse’s life. I could tell by the way his face lit up as he relived it how humble and grateful he was for what he had been given. He had formed Jackson’s Soul with a few other songwriters and when he wasn’t out playing with them, he’d be out playing by himself. The stage was truly a place that made him happy.

“That’s why I love coming here. We get the chance to tell the stories behind the lyrics and really connect with the audience from up there,” he said, raising his glass to me. “Cheers.”

“To what?” I asked.

“To being here.”

I smiled, lifted my glass to his and took a quick sip. I was really enjoying myself with Jesse. He made me feel comfortable. He was very laid back and he had this allure about him that put me at ease. It was brining something up inside of me I’m not sure I’d ever really felt before. I was just about to take another sip when I felt the vibration of my phone at my feet. Jesse leaned away from me as I reached down into my purse. Logan’s name covered the screen and I wasn’t sure what the right thing to do was. Answering it seemed rude, but ignoring it didn’t feel right either.

“Please,” Jesse said, gesturing for me to take it.

“I’ll be right back.”

I made it to the hallway only a ring away from voicemail. When he heard my voice on the other end he let out of sigh of relief.

“I’m glad you answered,” he said.

“Why would you think I wouldn’t?” I asked, my lips slightly trembling. Did he know where I was? Had Jesse told him he was meeting me?

“I don’t know,” Logan said. “We left things on such a serious note. I had this weird sense just now that I needed to call you, so I did. I guess I had to still make sure we were okay.” The door to the rooftop opened as a couple left. I could hear the applause. “Where are you?” he asked curiously.

“Oh, I’m working a story,” I said with a pang of guilt inside me. Even though I wanted to believe I had come here for a story, I knew there was more to it than that, that being here with Jesse was just as important if not more so. I was still figuring out my jumbled emotions and until I did, I felt it better to leave Jesse out of the conversation for all of our sakes.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt your night. Like I said, I had this weird sense come over me and I wanted to call.”

“You don’t have to be sorry, Logan. I’m glad you called. And we’re good, I promise.”

“Good,” he said. “Have a good night, Celia. I’ll talk to you later.”

I hung up with Logan and quietly made my way back inside. I grabbed my martini and took a quick sip as I lowered myself onto my seat. I had noticed Jesse was further from me now than before I left and I wondered if it was intentional.

“So,” he said, not looking directly at me, “you and Logan, you two are…”

“Friends,” I said. “We grew up together.”

“There’s been a lot of talk about the two of you lately. I almost feel guilty sitting here with you.”

I waved off the accusation and tossed down the rest of my martini. “You shouldn’t feel guilty,” I said. “Really, Logan and I are just friends.”

“And what about you and me?” he asked. “Are we friends?”

I smiled. A million words scrolled through my head, but the way the lights reflected off those eyes distracted me from being able to form any of them into a sentence. That may have been all the answer he needed. He reached out and placed his hand on top of mine. I figured that was enough of the interview for now and curled my fingers around his. We sat that way for the rest of the night.

Grant played for about two hours. The lounge had emptied out after last call, but I wasn’t ready for the night to be over. Not only did I not want to say goodbye to Jesse, but I was honestly afraid of what would happen when we did.

Jesse walked me through the parking lot to my car. This time I made sure to pay attention to where I parked. Losing it in front of Logan was one thing, but I didn’t want Jesse to learn what a flake I could be so early on. By the time we got to my car, the silence between us was deafening. I’d like to think it was because he too didn’t want to utter goodbye just as badly as I didn’t. He shifted his car to a stop and told me to hold still while he walked around to open my door for me. He held onto my hand tightly even after we were both positioned in front of it.

“I…I had a really good time tonight,” he said.

His body moved closer. His lips hovered just above my forehead. All night tonight it seemed I had been fumbling with words and the end of the night was no different.

“I had a really good time too,” I said. Actually, I had had an amazing time. As I stood there in front of him, I felt dizzied by touch of his fingertips on my skin. I had to keep reminding myself to breathe. The pounding heart, the shaking knees, it had taken over. I was confused, flustered, intrigued all at the same time. Before I could gather myself together, he lifted my chin up and placed his lips against mine. He pulled away only for a second before he slid his hands around my waist to pull me into him. This time his lips pressed firmly against mine and lingered there for what didn’t seem like long enough. When I opened my eyes to look at him one last time, I could’ve sworn I was floating.

My kiss with Logan flashed through my head as Jesse pulled away. Not because it was so similar to what had just happened, but because it was all so different. The way I yearned for Jesse’s lips before they had even touched mine. The way my body shivered at his touch. I had hugged Logan hundreds of times. I had spent nights asleep on his shoulder, wrapped in his arms, and yet from Jesse’s very first touch I felt something unlike any of those times. Something more. Logan made me feel safe. He comforted me, but Jesse, Jesse made me feel alive. He made me feel wanted. And at the same time that it awoke a spark inside of me, it also scared me to death.

21

I woke up exhausted on Thursday morning. I could not drift into any sort of oblivion the night before. Part of it was because I wanted to relive Jesse’s lips on mine over and over again and part of it was because I had a feeling that kiss was going to affect more than the two of us. What would Logan think if he found out? Was it wrong? Was I a terrible person? It’s all I could think about as I slunk into work. I had thought about it so much while trying to write that I found it hidden in between words and had to go back multiple times to proof all I had written.

I was about to bust at the seams by the time Jaycie had come in from her morning interview. She had been texting my phone nonstop since before Jesse and I had even ended the night, but none of it would sound right via a text, so I told her she’d have to wait to hear it in person. She threw her notebook down on her desk as she past it, arriving out of breath at my desk.

“Okay, let’s hear it,” she said.

My smile grew with every part of the story I told. I think my voice even squeaked when I talked about him reaching for my hand. I grabbed Jaycie’s forearms as I whispered all the details of the kiss. The way he held onto my hand as long as he could after I sat in my car. How we stared through my window and smiled at each other, almost knowing we were thinking the same thing. That we wished there was a way to hold onto that moment forever.

Her high-pitched squeals of excitement made all of the office turn towards us. She winced and mouthed an apology, then turned back toward me for more. She leaned in closer with each line I told.

“
Celia has a boy-friend
,” she sang tauntingly, like a second-grader.

“I do not,” I said, slapping her arm.

“But you like him?”

“I liked kissing him,” I laughed.

“And do you plan on kissing him again?”

I shrugged. Jaycie shook her head. Although she too thought it was funny she must have known where this was going. He was a musician. I didn’t even have to say it out loud, just the thought of it stung. In my mind musicians equal pain. They bring heartbreak and loneliness.

“Well, maybe it’s time you give someone a chance to show you that you’re wrong,” she said.

“I’m not wrong,” I said, “and even if I was, what about Logan?” I asked. “What do I do about that?”

“Do you remember the way you felt when you kissed Logan?” she asked. I nodded. “How about the way you felt when you kissed Jesse?”

I didn’t answer, but the smile that crossed my face said it all.

“Look, I know you love Logan, but you’re not
in
love with Logan. If you were, I don’t think we’d be having this conversation. I know you’re scared. I know there is more to your past and your story than I really understand and I’m sure you have a logical reason to be, but Celia, if you could’ve seen yourself just now. The way your eyes lit up and your smile widened with every detail of last night, it’s obvious there is something there with Jesse. Something that I believe is worth at least exploring.” She paused, probably to survey my reaction. “So, I’m going to ask you again. Are you going to see Jesse again?”

“I’ll think about it,” I said.

“Don’t think about it. That’s what gets you in trouble, you think too much. Stop letting your head get in the way and for once listen to what your heart wants.”

There were a million reasons why listening to my heart was a bad idea. I tried to say them out loud for Jacyie to understand, but each time she shut them down. She said it was time for me to stop overanalyzing and thinking the worst of every situation. That I just needed to let what would happen happen.