Following Me by Linde, K.A. (good e books to read txt) 📕

she didn’t want it to end.  How could it be so close tobeing over already?  It felt like he had just started.

“I want to thank you all againfor coming out.  This is my last song for the night, and it’s kind of personalto me.  It’s about loss, pain, and silence…about how hope blossoms in thesmallest of packages and in the least likely of circumstances.  This one istitled ‘Moving Forward’,” he said into the microphone, his eyes seeminglyfinding her in the crowd.

As he played the first fewchords, his eyes never strayed from her.  She wasn’t even close to the stage,but he seemed to know right where she was.  Amy and Hannah sighed heavily nextto her.

As soon as the lyrics startedflowing from his mouth, Devon could tell the song was different from theothers…more personal.  She hadn’t thought it possible, but this song was bettersuited to him than the others.  He couldn’t have described the lyrics anybetter than in his introduction.

She felt like her heart wasbreaking as he sang about a loss she could understand.  She felt a stabbingsensation in her body as she experienced his pain.  The words made her feel likeshe wasn’t alone with the dreaded silence from which she suffered.  Andfinally, she could feel her heart being stitched together.  The needle wasn’tgentle, and the thread would heal the wounds in time, but there was hope thatthe scars would heal.

When the song came to a close,Devon felt tears welling in her eyes.  The song was painful.  It actuallycaused her physical discomfort to even hear it, but that made it even better. People who had ever willed themselves to silence needed the hope from Brennan’ssong.  Maybe it would help mend their hearts, too.

Brennan stood as the house camedown with applause.  People were on their feet.  Some people were swiping attheir eyes from the emotional song.  But Brennan never broke eye contact withDevon, and her eyes never left his gaze until he was ushered offstage for thenext performer.  That poor soul.

“I don’t know how he does it,”Garrett said, nudging Devon lightly.  “Look, you’re even crying.  I thought wetalked about this.  No more crying from you.”

Devon laughed through her tearsand sniffled.  “Right.  Right.  No more crying,” she said, wiping under hereyes.

“If I had a voice like that andcould play guitar, I could bag so many girls,” Garrett said with a fake dumbexpression on his face, making fun of all the guys who actually talked likethat.

“I’m sure he does,” Devon said,laughing softly at his joke.

If Brennan’s advances towardDevon were any indication, he was surely getting exactly who and what hewanted.

“Who?  Brennan?” Garrett askedincredulously.  “No way.  That guy is a saint.  Girls are magnets formusicians, and he manages to fend them off like a lion tamer.”

“No way is he a saint,” Devonsaid, rolling her eyes.  “I don’t believe it.  Half the girls at work likehim.”

“Well, you ask him then,” Garrettsaid with a shrug.  “I’ve known a lot of guys with musician complexes.  Hedoesn’t have one.”

“Oh, you’ve known guyswith musician complexes?” Devon asked, again rolling her eyes to the ceiling.  Theycould never compare to what she had seen.

“All I’m saying is that Brennancould sleep with any girl here tonight, and he won’t bring any one of themhome.  At least, I’ve never seen him do it.”

But he brought me home, shethought.  She wasn’t going to stick around to find out if it would happen withsomeone else.

She could see Brennan backstagenow, sliding his button-up back on.  Soon, he would be back at their table. She couldn’t face him.  That song had struck home.  The lyrics were so personaland so touching that she felt like he had spoken directly to her.  It was as ifshe had opened up her notebook filled with lyrics and let him read the pageswith her heart laid bare in the words.  She was the one moving forward, pushingthrough the pain to find herself once more.  And it was then that she felt likethe final song had been about her, like it had been written for her.  Shecouldn’t prove it, and she didn’t want to.  She couldn’t get more entangled inhim than she already was even if Garrett said he wouldn’t make a move…anothermove.

She would be interested inpursuing her little sliver of hope but not under these circumstances.  Itwouldn’t be fair to him, or her, or Reid.

She needed to leave before shedid something stupid.

“I’m actually not feeling allthat well, Garrett.”  Devon put her hand on her forehead again.  “I wanted tosee Brennan’s show, but I think we should probably go.  I’ll see him at workthis week, and I’ll talk to him there.”

“You sure?” Garrett asked,clearly confused.

“Yeah, I’m ready to go home,”Devon said, feeling like that wasn’t an appropriate name for the apartment shewas living in.

She had found her home inBrennan’s music.

“FUCK,” DEVON CRIED, impatientlytapping her pen back and forth on her leg on the train.

An old lady sitting down nearDevon glared at her.  Devon didn’t have the patience for it right now.  She waslate for work.  It was the first time she had ever been late.  What made itworse was she knew that Jenn was going to be in today.

She hadn’t meant to be late.  Noone ever intended to be late.  But she had managed to sleep right through heralarm.

Last night had been the worstdreams she’d ever had.  She had woken up twice in the middle of the night withthe exact same dream that she’d had a dozen times already, the one where shewas being chased through campus.  She shuddered even thinking about it.  Then,this morning, it had raided her sleep once more and held her hostage throughher alarm.  Each time she had awoken drenched in sweat or crying her eyes out,remembering the feel of the man’s hands on her as she lay sprawled face-firston the bed.  Her hands were shaking now at the thought.

She hadn’t had time to shower orcover up the dark circles under her eyes, and she was pretty sure she lookedlike shit.  It would be just another thing Jenn would love about her showing uplate.