My Cone and Only Read online

  It was too soon. I wasn’t ready. I needed more time to prepare and get my shit together.

  But then I remembered what Andie had said.

  Don’t make up reasons why you can’t.

  There’d always be reasons to say no. Fear would always be ready to supply them. The same fear I’d been hiding behind and using as an excuse. The fear that had been ruling me for far too long.

  Fuck that. It was time to stop living in fear.

  “Yes,” I told her, feeling queasy. “I’ll do it.”

  I ran my hand through my hair, then cursed myself for messing it up after I’d gone to the trouble of styling it. I was wearing my best jeans, my best boots, and my best shirt. We were at T minus two hours until I took the stage at Zelda’s, and I was so nervous I didn’t know whether to scratch my watch or check my ass.

  “Come here.” Andie pulled me into her arms. “You’re going to be great. Your songs are great, and everyone’s going to love them.”

  The last twenty-four hours had passed in a blur of anxiety. I’d gone into hyperdrive prepping for my debut as a singer-songwriter. Agonizing over the set list. Practicing until my fingers hurt, then panicking that I’d injured myself practicing too much. Shuffling the song order around, then realizing I’d had it right the first time and shuffling it back. Your standard-issue freak-out, basically.

  Andie had been amazing through it all. She’d talked me out of second-guessing myself a million times already and made sure I knew she believed in me. I don’t think I would have gotten through this without her.

  I let my head drop onto her shoulder, exhaling a deep sigh as she rubbed her hands over my back. “What if I forget the words?”

  “You won’t forget the words. I’ve heard you sing all those songs dozens of times. You know every word by heart.”

  “What if I mess up the fingering?”

  “That’s what he said.”

  I snorted. “You’re never going to get tired of that, are you?”

  “Fingering jokes? Definitely not.” Her voice grew husky as she moved her lips to my ear. “I can assure you that your fingering skills are top-notch, so I wouldn’t worry about it.”

  “I’m serious.”

  “So am I. Even if you do mess up a little, no one will know because they’ve never heard the song before.”

  “They’ll just think the song sucks.”

  “Look at me.” I lifted my head and she took my face in her hands. “You’re Wyatt King. You don’t get stage fright.”

  “Tell that to my stomach.”

  She bent down and cupped her hands around her mouth as she pressed them against my stomach. “Wyatt King doesn’t get stage fright, so you better settle down in there. Don’t make me get the Pepto.”

  It did the trick, because it got me laughing too hard to feel my nervousness.

  “That’s better.” She pressed her palm to my cheek and brushed her thumb over the corner of my mouth. “That’s the smile I want to see tonight.”

  Her hands warmed me everywhere she touched me. A tingly sort of energy seemed to flow from her to me, easing my restlessness. Giving me confidence and comfort.

  I curled a lock of her brown hair around my finger. She was wearing it down, and it fell in silky waves around her shoulders. She’d changed into a dress, and I knew she’d worn it just for me.

  “You look pretty.” Once this ordeal was over, I was going to enjoy getting under that dress. I pressed my face into her neck and inhaled a long breath through my nose. “You smell nice too.”

  She laughed. “Clearly I need to dress up for you more often.”

  I lifted my head and grinned at her. “I like you when you’re dirty too.”

  “I’ve noticed.”

  I kissed her lips lightly, brushing my nose against hers. “Make sure you sit right up front where I can see you. Every time I start to freak out, I’m going to look at your beautiful face, and it’ll remind me I don’t have anything to be scared of.”

  “You don’t have anything to be scared of.”

  I pressed my forehead against hers, letting my eyes fall closed. “I had a nightmare about it last night.” I couldn’t even remember the last time I’d had a stress dream about anything, much less being up onstage.

  “I know. You kicked me.”

  “Shit, I’m sorry.”

  She kissed the tip of my nose. “You’re forgiven.”

  “I dreamed that no one came to see me perform. I walked out onstage and the place was deserted and deadly silent. It was just me and an empty room.”

  “It’s not going to be empty. Lots of people are coming to see you, and that’s on top of the usual Saturday night crowd at Zelda’s.”

  Andie had been the one to call around and tell people about the show tonight. Not everyone—just a select few friends and family. I let her use her own judgment about it, because her judgment was better than mine. My instinct had been to tell no one—at least before my stress dream last night—but she wouldn’t let me get away with that. She’d wanted to make sure that when I looked out at that room tonight, it’d be filled with friendly faces.

  But the only face that mattered to me was the one right in front of me. I didn’t care who else came tonight as long as Andie was there.

  That had been the most terrifying part of my dream. I’d stepped out on the stage, expecting to see her, and she hadn’t been there. In the dream, I’d known somehow that she was gone for good. The bone-deep certainty that I’d never see her again had chilled me to my core. There’d only been one other time in my life when I’d felt that lost and alone, and it wasn’t a feeling I enjoyed revisiting.

  I banded my arms around her and held as tight as I could without hurting her.

  The thought of losing Andie terrified me. I needed her like I needed air to breathe. I didn’t know what I’d do if she ever left me.

  24

  Andie

  I got to Zelda’s Bar & Lounge early to secure myself a good table. Close to the front at the center of the stage, just like Wyatt had asked.

  It wasn’t a big place. The vibe was cozy and cluttered, with a divey art bar aesthetic. Groupings of mismatched tables and chairs filled the center of the brick-walled space, and an eclectic mix of retro booths and couches lined the two side walls. Everywhere you looked there was some kind of kitschy lamp or oddball decoration. Mannequins, hula girls, creepy-ass dolls, and weird taxidermy animals peered at you from every corner of the joint.

  Proximity to the university, cheap pitchers of Lone Star, and the campy-cool vibe made Zelda’s popular with Bowman students. Looking around me, I saw mostly younger faces, one or two of whom looked familiar from campus. It was about two-thirds full already. Once the rest of Wyatt’s friends and family got here, it’d be a full house.

  The stage at the back of the room was small, just barely big enough to fit a four-piece band with a drum kit, and framed by red velvet curtains Zelda had salvaged from the old movie theater downtown. Tonight the stage was set with just a single wooden stool and mic stand for Wyatt.

  I checked the time on my phone and saw I had a new text from him.

  The green room smells like armpits.

  He was here already, then. Good.

  Could be worse, I texted back.

  How???

  It could smell like asparagus pee, I replied. Or cheese farts. Or Gwyneth Paltrow’s vagina.

  He texted me back a bunch of vomiting emojis.

  I hated that we’d had to come separately tonight. I wished I could have driven him. I should be back there in the armpit-smelling green room holding his hand. Bolstering his spirits. Making sure he didn’t drink too much or smoke too much weed.

  I knew he was perfectly capable of looking after himself before a show, but I’d never seen him this nervous about anything before. It’d thrown me a little, to see him so anxious. I’d always thought Wyatt was immune to self-consciousness. The king of not giving a fuck. Fearless and confident. At ease in any situation.


  Only recently had I begun to understand just how much of that had been an act. It felt hugely important that he’d let me see behind his facade and trusted me with his deepest insecurities and desires. And because he’d done that, he was here taking this big step tonight. Sharing something he was passionate about with everyone.

  But instead of being together for this big moment in his life, we were forced apart in order to maintain our secret. Separated by yet another pretense Wyatt had constructed. It didn’t sit well with me.

  “You got a good table.”

  I looked up at the sound of my brother’s voice and smiled. “You made it.”

  “Of course we did. You think we’d miss this?” He edged around the table and held out a chair for Mia.

  She sat down with a martini and gazed around curiously, her eyebrows lifting at a particularly deranged-looking taxidermy squirrel nearby wearing a top hat with a tiny cigarette hanging out of his mouth. “I like this place. It’s got a lot of character.”

  “That’s one word for it.” Josh took a sip of his beer before setting it on the table. “Birdie’s here too. She’s at a table in the back corner.”

  “Is she alone?” I craned my neck, looking for her.

  “No, she’s with some of her Bunco ladies. I think they might have pre-partied, because they seemed really drunk.” He gave an embarrassed shudder. “Donna McNutt tried to pinch my ass.”

  “It is a really cute ass. I don’t blame her for finding it irresistible.” Mia grinned as she reached a hand behind him.

  “Hey, now.” Josh’s lips tugged into a smile as he grabbed her hand before it could reach his backside. “Let’s not engage in victim blaming.”

  Mia leaned over to kiss his cheek before turning her gaze on me. “So this whole thing is kind of a surprise, isn’t it? I gather Wyatt’s been holding out on everyone.”

  “I’ll say.” I glanced at my brother. “Did you have any clue he’d been writing music?” If there was anyone Wyatt might have confided in before me, I figured it was Josh. Or at least he might have given him some hint about it.

  Josh gave me one of his enigmatic smiles—the kind that meant he wasn’t going to tell me what Wyatt might or might not have confided in him. “I always thought he’d be good at it. We did this poetry unit back in high school, and he really seemed to take to it. Mrs. Cantrell even hung one of his poems up on the board at the front of the classroom. I tried to talk him into writing some songs for the band, but he said he wasn’t interested.”

  Mia stirred the olives around in her martini. “When I first met him, he told me music was just something he did for fun, and he didn’t have enough discipline to take it seriously.” Her astute gaze settled on me again. “I wonder what changed.”

  I looked down at my beer, pretty sure Mia had already guessed what had changed. I just had to hope she’d keep it to herself and not share her suspicions with my brother.

  Josh nudged my arm. “When did you find out about it?”

  “I told you, he was at my house yesterday working when he got the call from Zelda.” That was the story I’d given everyone. My explanation for being the one to spread the word about Wyatt’s show tonight. It was the truth, even if it wasn’t all of the truth.

  “You didn’t know before?”

  I didn’t like lying to my brother, but when Wyatt first told me about his songwriting he’d done it in confidence. That wasn’t a trust I’d betray even if we weren’t hiding a relationship. But there was something I could tell Josh to avoid lying outright.

  “Remember when he got into that fight at King’s Palace about a month ago?”

  Josh frowned. “Yes.”

  “I drove him home afterward, and while he was puking his guts out in the bathroom, I may have seen a notebook he’d left sitting out that was full of what looked like lyrics.”

  “You didn’t tell me that part,” Mia said.

  I shrugged. “It seemed private. I felt bad for looking at it as soon as I realized what it was.”

  Josh seemed to accept this. “I guess he wanted to keep it to himself until he was ready to go public.”

  I pushed my chair back and grabbed my empty beer glass. “I’m going for another drink. Anybody want anything else?”

  They both shook their heads, and I started for the bar before I got cornered into telling any more lies. All this prevaricating and truth-dodging was exhausting, and also it had made me need to pee. Depositing my glass in the tray of dirties, I headed to the bathroom.

  The green room was probably back here somewhere, but I didn’t know where and it didn’t seem wise to go stumbling around looking for it. I checked my phone as I waited for a stall to open up in the ladies’ room, but there’d been nothing from Wyatt since the vomit emojis. I dearly hoped he was holding up okay.

  A girl with a pink streak in her hair vacated one of the stalls, and I slipped inside. Once I’d taken care of my business, I turned my stall over to the next person in line and went to the sink to wash my hands.

  I smiled when I recognized the woman refreshing her lipstick in the mirror next to me. “Hey, Lucy.”

  She smiled back at me in the mirror. “Andie! Hi!”

  Lucy Dillard had been two years ahead of me in high school, and we’d been in choir together. She was also the older sister of Wyatt’s bandmate, Matt.

  “Did you come to see Wyatt?” I asked as I dried my hands.

  “Yeah, I drove Matt. His car’s in the shop again.” She held the door for me while I tossed my paper towels into the trash. “He says the songs Wyatt’s been writing are really good. It sounds like the guys are all excited to start playing them with him. Have you heard any of them yet?”

  I shook my head as I gestured toward the bar, dodging her question. “I was gonna get a drink.”

  “Oh yeah, me too.”

  We got in line and chatted while we waited our turn. Lucy worked in the marketing department at King’s Creamery. They were busy getting ready for the big Centennial Festival that was coming up at the amusement park, and she was in the middle of telling me about all the stuff they had planned when I felt someone touch my arm.

  “Andie.”

  I turned and found myself eye level with a chest as broad as a Volkswagen. Tilting my head back, I smiled into the friendly face of Wyatt’s half-brother, Ryan McCafferty. “Hey! You made it.”

  Not only was Ryan a fireman, he also competed in Scottish Highland Games, which were basically feats of strength where giants in kilts tossed around tree trunks and boulders for fun. He was exceptionally large and strong, was my point. Which might have been intimidating if he hadn’t also been a total sweetheart.

  He wrapped me in a big hug and pressed a quick kiss to the top of my head. “Thanks for activating the phone tree.”

  “No problem.”

  Ryan’s gaze drifted to Lucy behind me, and his smile slipped a little. He recovered quickly, fixing it back in place as he greeted her with a nod. “Lucy. Nice to see you.”

  “Hi, Ryan.” Lucy’s voice sounded strained. When I turned to look at her, I saw she wasn’t looking at Ryan, but at Tanner, who was standing just behind him.

  I remembered hearing that Lucy and Tanner had dated awhile back. Based on the stone-faced stares they were giving each other now, I guessed their parting hadn’t been amicable.

  Ryan stepped to the side and used his massive triceps to shove Tanner forward. “Say hi to the ladies, Tanner.”

  Physically, Tanner was the spitting image of Wyatt, though their personalities couldn’t have been more different since Tanner was studious, levelheaded, and introverted. Despite his natural reserve, I’d always found him friendly, though you’d never know it from the way he was looking at Lucy now. His blue eyes were like icicles, his expression as cheerless as his voice as he greeted her. “Lucy.”

  “Tanner.” Lucy’s voice had gone from strained to downright squeaky.

  Not knowing any of the particulars of their breakup or who’d been the injured
party, I felt bad for both of them. Trying to distract from the awkwardness of the moment, I put myself between them and greeted Tanner with a hug.

  He accepted my embrace more stiffly than usual, murmuring a subdued greeting before sidling backward behind Ryan again. The line moved up, and I took the opportunity to position myself at Lucy’s side. She stayed quiet while I made small talk with Ryan, her eyes occasionally darting anxiously toward Tanner, who hung back in his behemoth brother’s shadow, determinedly refusing to look at her.

  Finally, after several awkward minutes, we reached the bartender, and Lucy and I placed our orders. Once we’d gotten our beers, I bid Wyatt’s brothers goodbye. Ryan nudged Tanner again, who roused himself to offer me a parting smile before shooting another frosty glare at Lucy.

  I took her by the arm and led her a safe distance away before stopping to study her. “You okay?”

  She nodded as she tipped back her beer. “I probably shouldn’t have come. I was hoping I’d be able to avoid him.”

  “You want to talk about it?”

  Forcing brightness into her expression, she shook her head. “I’m fine. I just feel bad that seeing me probably ruined his night.” She didn’t look fine, despite her efforts to appear otherwise.

  “Are you sitting with your brother?” I asked her.

  “Yeah, over there.” She nodded toward a booth that held Wyatt’s three bandmates, who were currently chatting up some smitten college girls who’d clustered around them. From Lucy’s expression, I surmised she wasn’t in a big hurry to get back to them.

  “I’m at a table up front with my brother and his girlfriend. Do you want to come sit with us?”

  She gave me a grateful look. “I’d love that.”

  “Come on.” I hooked my arm through hers and led her over to my table.

  Josh knew Lucy from high school, and he got up to give her a hug before introducing her to Mia. While the three of them talked, I discreetly checked my phone again. Still nothing from Wyatt.

  It was just a few minutes before he was due to go on, so I typed out a quick text.