Home > Books > Reverse (The Bittersweet Symphony Duet #2)(205)

Reverse (The Bittersweet Symphony Duet #2)(205)

Author:Kate Stewart

Knowing he’s full of restless energy, I stand as he informs our crew we’ll be back. Exiting the dressing room, we start the long trek to the parking lot. A few steps in, I roll my eyes down his frame. His own look, though spruced up by Lexi, remains true to his roots and typical stage appearance. Dressed in all black, I note just how much justice she did him. “Nervous?”

“Not really, just ready. The wait is what’s killing me. It really doesn’t get much better than this,” he grins. “It’s a good send-off, right?”

“Send-off?” I stop my footing altogether and turn to him. “This is it?”

He nods. “We decided this morning. We waited for everyone to get here to let you all know. Ben, Rye, and Adam are telling the rest of them now. A farewell tour would just be a formality anyway, and none of us want it.”

“Seriously?” A ball lodges in my throat as I avert my eyes, gutted by the fact that his music career is ending in mere hours. No wonder Mom’s been so emotional today.

“We stopped touring years ago, East. We’re done.”

“Jesus,” I rasp out, my eyes stinging. Lowering them, I go to resume our walk, and Dad stops me by gripping my arm.

“Look at me, son.”

I do and see my own eyes staring back at me, his filled with calm serenity, something I so desperately wish I had.

“I’m ready, Easton.” He shrugs. “Not all of us have a son with enough talent to create their own musical legacy,” he relays with pride. “I lucked out in that department, and I’d rather kick back and watch you make your mark. I’m so proud I had a hand in it, no matter how small the part I played.”

“It wasn’t small. Not at all.”

“Don’t bullshit me. You’re already surpassing me in a lot of ways.”

I shake my head, incredulous. “You’re wrong if you think any part of what I’m doing doesn’t have everything to do with you and Mom.”

My chest tightens as he clamps a hand on my shoulder. “All I’m saying is if this is it, I’m cool with it. So, you be okay with it, too.”

“Shit,” I reply hoarsely, reeling, “I’m good if you are. Just give me a minute to process.”

He nods, and we start walking again. A few steps in, he glances over at me. “It’s been a heavy couple of months.”

“Yeah, it has,” I say, keeping my focus ahead.

“You want to talk about it?”

“No. Not today.”

“You haven’t talked about it at all, son, since I peeled you from the floor of that hotel room.”

“That’s because there’s nothing to talk about. I’m at where I’m at, and I’m dealing with it.”

“Just so you know, you come first.” The last part he quietly delivers in a guilt-ridden tone he’s used a couple times since our standoff. The morning after Mom bitch-slapped her logic into me, literally and figuratively, Dad and I came together like we hadn’t missed a second. When he opened their hotel door in New Orleans the following morning, I didn’t have to say a word. He pulled me to him, and after I choked out my apology, our fight was over. We’ve been inseparable since. I did move out into a one-bedroom I treat like a hotel room and as Mom predicted, a storage room, unsure if I’ll ever pass out the second key.

“I know I come first without you ever having to tell me.” I relay with conviction, determined to keep my focus on my family despite the underlying gnawing in my gut, which must be apparent to everyone with the way I’m being goaded and gawked at today. “We’re good, Dad. I know you’re there if I need you.”

“That’s all that matters to me,” he asserts, his voice thick.

Needing a shift in energy, I nudge his shoulder and flash him a grin. “You know, you’re getting to be a sentimental old man.”

“Yeah, well, so fucking be it,” he quips back with a grin while patting his jean pockets in search of his cigarettes.

My spirits continue to war as we round the corner, and Dad comes to an abrupt halt, slapping a protective hand on my stomach just as I look up.

Impaled

Skyler Grey

Natalie

In and out, Natalie.

“Don’t be too hard on yourself. It can get pretty confusing,” the man who introduced himself to me as Donald says while whizzing the golf cart around another curve. Brisk wind lashes my cheeks just as my phone buzzes in my hand.

Tye: Where are you?

Got turned around and retrieved. I’ll be there in a few. I’m so sorry.