Thirty-nine

I wanted to take the day off, but David convinced me he wasn’t going anywhere, and I should make some money before my big move to the city. With graduation just days away, I only had a few shifts left, and every dollar counted. He promised he’d swing by the Draught, and although he didn’t tell me how he had planned to spend his day, I assumed it was visiting Harry.

We still hadn’t kissed, and something about that was vexing. I had this image of him sweeping me into his arms like in the movies. But aside from a few hugs and the gentle brush of his lips against my forehand, there had been no grand romantic gestures. Maybe he wanted to take things slow. The thing was, as desperately as I wanted to fling my body against his, I wanted him to be the one to initiate the kiss. Stupid, I know. But after all we’d been through, it was what I needed. I wanted to ask Brit her opinion, but she was in band mode, and I was resigned to the fact that I’d have to figure this one out on my own.

Every time the door to the Draught opened, my head spun around like an owl, checking to see if it was David.

“Kris, if you didn’t just go through five months of hell, I’d be teasing you like crazy,” Erik said as he dropped a stack of menus by the register and walked over to me. He had the slightest bounce to his step, and I felt the corners of my mouth lift as he approached. Erik bounced, and it was undeniably cute—but David had swagger. And that was undeniably sexy.

“This coming from you? What has it been? Five whole minutes since you last drooled over Brit?”

“Ten, the band is on a break.” He stuck his tongue out at me, and I snapped the towel I was using to wipe down the table against his arm.

I ran to the bathroom when Brit started singing again. It was always easier to duck away after the band had come back. People were anxious to hear what they would play next and ignored their need for chocolate and whipped cream. I washed my hands and looked in the mirror, making sure I looked okay. I had a few fly away hairs that I smoothed back then quickly reapplied the lip gloss I had in my apron pocket. Rubbing my lips together, my thoughts trailed off. So much had happened, so much chaos. I thought everything was over, and yet there was this little bubble inside me that felt as though my life was truly only beginning.

Drying my hands on a paper towel, I tossed it in the trash and walked back into the main room of the shop, instantly spotting David. He was leaning against the counter, chatting up Erik. I practically ran toward him, but a woman called me over. Instinctively, I gave her a dirty look and saw her brows furrow in confusion. Ugh. I so wasn’t meant for customer service. I beamed a smile and pulled out the pen I had tucked in my ponytail.

The woman changed her order half a dozen times before she finally settled on chai tea and apple pie. When I put in the order, I looked up to see David staring at me. His lips curled into a smile when our eyes met, and once again I had an incredible urge to slam my body against his and fade from view. But my boss called me over.

“Kristen, did you order the sugar like I asked you to?”

My eyes darted from David to Frank. “Yeah, I ordered it last week.”

“Last week? What delivery service did you use?”

“Uh… postal?”

“Always use UPS, postal is too slow. We’re nearly out.”

“I’m sorry, Frank.” I really wasn’t in the mood for this. This job had been a blessing, but at the moment, this coffee shop could suck it.

“It’s fine, but now you know for next time.” Next time? I was leaving in a few days. He walked away, and I spun around, but David was gone. Crap. Now where had he disappeared to? It was like we were playing hide and seek.

“Thank you,” Brit’s sugary voice said into the mic as she got ready for her next song. “So, as you all know, this band was the dream of a guy who snuck away a few months ago to become this famous rock star. You might have heard of him… David Archer… Ring any bells?”

There were hoots and hollers across the room, and I saw something I’d never seen before. People—kids that I went to school with—started pulling out their phones and holding it up in the air. I peeked around the pole and saw David standing next to the stage, smiling—huge. He had on a charcoal button down, untucked with the sleeves rolled up, his tattoos begging me to trace them with the pads of my fingers the way I had a hundred times before. He was wearing dark jeans instead of his faded ripped ones. These new ones admittedly hung perfectly off his hips. His cropped beard was sexier than I could have imagined, and his dark brown hair was flopped over his brow. My god, I had never seen anything so beautiful in all my life.

“So, I think if we ask nicely, we could get him back on this stage for old times’ sake. What do you guys think?”

More screams. My gaze swam around the room, taking in the girls that looked at David like a sexy hero in a romance movie. My boyfriend was a heartthrob, and I was surprisingly okay with it. “Let’s hear it, then… David… David…” Brit began chanting into the mic. David smiled, head down, then raised his gaze to meet mine from across the room. My heart skipped a beat as he acknowledged me before taking the stage. I nodded, wanting to hear him sing. It had been too long. He nodded to Brit, the crowd screaming as he jogged up onto the stage.

Brit had removed her guitar and handed it to him. He took it and slipped the strap gently over his neck and securely onto his back. Erik brought him a stool, and he took center stage while the rest of the band walked off to give him his moment.

“Hello, Draughties…” David said into the mic, and the room laughed. He used to always call the customers Draughties. I had forgotten about that. Leaning against the pole, I prayed a customer, or my boss, wouldn’t ruin this perfect moment for me. Thankfully, no one did. The room quieted, and David began plucking away on the guitar, tweaking it here and there until it sounded the way he liked it. I’m sure Brit wanted to kill him.

“So, as most of you have heard, I was abroad for a bit. I went back home and recorded my first album.” Another roar from the crowd. I noticed they weren’t just taking his picture, they were recording him. Was this going to go viral?

“While I was away, I ended up rewriting the song that landed me in London in the first place. I hope you like it. Uh… yeah.” He smiled and shook his head, the faintest blush on his face. “This is called Tattooed Kisses.”

I had heard the song over a hundred times by now. I listened to it on constant repeat, but there was something about it being sung live—and knowing the song was about me and my relationship with the singer—well, the feeling that fluttered about in my belly and sent tingles across my skin was pretty much indescribable.

As David started singing, I molded my body against the pole, needing it for support. I knew every word by heart and still hearing the verses, the power of the message somehow managed to surprise me.

David closed his eyes as he sang, and his fingers danced around the strings, creating the most beautiful melody. This was a new look for him, I realized that now. It wasn’t just the hair; he had transitioned from a punk rocker to a more acoustic singer-songwriter. David had grown up. And if it were at all possible, I fell in love with him a little bit harder in that moment. I felt an arm slip through mine and looked away from David for a moment. Brit had snuck up beside me.

“He’s back,” she said with a smile.

“He’s back,” I confirmed.

“And you guys?”

I took a breath and smiled. “We’re shooting for happily ever after.”

Brit placed her head on my shoulder and sighed. “I told you it wasn’t over.”

There was a hush across the room as David sang the last verse, Your kiss is tattooed on my heart—on my mind, I see you in my dreams when I close my eyes.

No matter the distance, no matter the miles…

Our souls are forever tied.

As he sang his final line, I felt my skin pucker into goose bumps. Loving him was scary. I saw how far I had fallen without him, and I never wanted to be that girl again. I knew we couldn’t go back to the way we were before London, it would be different because we were different, but as he said in his song: Our souls are forever tied.

“I have to get back up there,” Brit said and gave my arm a squeeze before flitting over to the stage. There was an uproar of applause, and the crowd started begging David to sing more. He was smiling but looked conflicted. His gaze found me in the crowd, and I nodded. I had to work anyway. There would be time for us later, and I had to get used to sharing him with them.

David and Brit sang together the rest of the night. It was like old times, before he left for London. Erik had his guitar in his trunk, so he gave his to David, and Brit went back to playing her Gibson.

As the orders wound down, and I started closing tabs at the register, Erik came over and rested his elbows against the counter. “I guess we have to get used to this, huh?”

“Used to what?”

He pointed at David and Brit, who were back-to-back. David was singing, and Brit was wailing into her electric. “Sharing them.”

“Yeah, but they always come back.”

“And that’s what matters.” He winked and grabbed a rag to wipe down tables.

I took a breath and looked at them again. I knew Brit had always wanted to create her own comic book after college and was hoping to intern at Marvel, but seeing her up there, I had a feeling she might just follow in David’s footsteps.

And if she did, I knew I’d be there for Erik. It’s not easy loving a star.