Unsatisfied, Tack presses in. “How did you close friends meet?”
That’s the crux of it, and I say it out loud to remind us both. “In the most impossible of situations. Trust me, you wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”
“Try me,” Tack challenges.
“Hey, man, sit back,” Easton bites out lightly, “I can’t see out of the rearview.”
Tack rolls his eyes at Easton’s blatant attempt to end our conversation. It’s effective enough. Soon after, the guys start to chat amongst themselves, beers popping at random.
Briefly, I worry that they’ll be drunk by the time they have to play, but Easton looks unconcerned as he stares out at the rapidly darkening road.
After too many miles of uncomfortable silence, a rarity for us, I finally state my piece.
“I’m sorry…I didn’t know what else to say.”
He gives me the subtle dip of his chin, but I know that’s not the answer he wanted. In the next two days, I’m determined to make him understand it’s the only answer I can give.
The minute we pull up to the small auditorium, the guys exit like their asses are on fire, having only half an hour to spare before the show starts. Easton had refused to pull over for a third piss break, and the guys threatened to unload in the sea of Gatorade bottles on the floorboard. Needless to say, there was no going back after they’d broken the seal. We ended up stopping four times before we made it to the venue. They all seem in good spirits now, even Easton, who I had refused to let go radio silent on me the rest of the way to Oklahoma. Surprisingly, he seemed just as eager to get us back to the cheerful place we were in when he picked me up. As we caught up, I could see such a change in his posture from the time we met. His smiles are granted far easier. The more I observed the differences in him, the more I realized some of his ill demeanor was due to the fact he was at his own crossroads when ours merged.
We’d been there for each other when we both needed someone to help us put things in perspective. It’s no doubt one of the reasons why we bonded so quickly, and it seems so—unforgettably. One thing I know for certain is that he gifted me the perception I need. Unfortunately, he’s done it in a way that’s brought on a whole new set of challenges. Challenges like trying to keep my legs from wrapping around his naked waist for the next forty-eight hours.
It’s clear now we’re both on the other side of the road we merged on, having chosen our respective directions. Unsurprisingly, I’ve stayed the same course—a course I’ve chosen my entire life, as has he. My path isn’t as full of solutions as his is, though—something I’ll be hard-pressed to admit to him.
As much as I love the intense Easton I met who was weighing a major life decision, this Easton is just as alluring, if not more enigmatic, which will make the next couple of days much harder.
Mulling over the task at hand, I catch sight of a familiar face as an identical second van, which was absent during our road trip, pulls up beside us.
“Oh my God!” I exclaim, and Easton flashes me a grin before l haul ass toward the driver’s door of the second van. Joel steps out looking gorgeous in a simple white T-shirt and jeans, a ready smile for me as he opens his arms and I fly into them. “Hey, you!” I greet, feeling the warmth in his embrace as we hug tightly and pull back slightly with matching grins. “Is it weird to say that I missed you?”
“Not at all. We bonded fast, and we weren’t the only ones.” He lifts his chin, gesturing behind me, and I follow his line of sight to catch Easton’s gaze darting warmly between us before Joel leans in on a whisper. “And in case it’s not evident, you’ve been missed, too.” Before I can get a read on Easton, the back door of the arena bursts open. Easton’s eyes slip from the two of us as he’s greeted by a man who eagerly pumps his hand with both of his own. Joel and I chuckle as Easton widens his eyes at us helplessly. The man talks a mile a minute, clasping his palm on Easton’s shoulder before ushering him toward the door.
“You told him, didn’t you?” I turn back to Joel as Easton disappears inside. “That I was crying when I left, you told him.”
Joel shakes his head, not a trace of guilt to be found in his expression.
“I didn’t have to.”
Worldstop
Roy English
Natalie
Blindsided.
That’s how I felt during the first half-hour of the show. The online experience of watching Easton perform doesn’t do him or the band nearly enough justice. Just a few minutes in, I decided it would have been a tragedy if I missed this opportunity. Though Easton said they were jelling well as a band and making good progress in tightening their sound, I can’t imagine them sounding better. Easton’s stage presence is an experience within itself. Combined with his astounding vocal range and his music, it’s utterly mesmerizing.