use, but the compulsion was too strong. She picked up a pen and started writing.
The softer edges of midnight,
pulled down into the starlight,
and lifted us into flight...
as I…
watch…
you…
The softer lines of feeling
leave me open, peeling
you’re an array on the ceiling
as I
find
you
And in the stars it is written that love conquers all
And in the way inside your arms, together we fall
All the ways
and all the things
that draw me to you
The softer edges of midnight will pull us through…
For two weeks Griffin sat onstage alone and played starting about an hour or two after the show. And for two weeks Lita often found an excuse to come back, sit backstage, and listen to him play.
Lita sat in the dark, Apelu waiting nearby, never saying a word.
Her heart ached at the sincerity of his words, at the loyalty that would keep a guy calling his girl night after night. And each night she watched him play, her room and her bed and her life felt a little emptier.
One thing was for sure—without them directly talking to one another, she was getting to know Griffin.
She wasn’t sure if she needed to find a way to be friends with him, if she was starting to hate him, or if she’d turned into a stalker.
Seven
Griffin grasped the handle of another box of equipment, jerking it off the floor and straining his shoulders. No need for workouts on the road. He felt as if he were forever lifting something, moving something, or running between the truck and the stage.
There had been eight shows before they left California, but the rest of the tour required much longer distances. Two weeks into the tour, they were in the Gorge in Washington State; a gorgeous setting on the Columbia River and a hot, sunny day in the high, almost-desert country. No hotels that night—they’d be camping on the buses or driving in the middle of the night.
Every show turned up something new. Someone new. The songs never got old. The energy never got old. Watching Lita never got old. Ryker’s ability to pick up a girl within five minutes of the start of the show had been old on the first night.
He stacked the guitar cases in the coolest part of the van as the summer heat beat down on the dry grass of the amphitheater. Griffin was amazed that every night after a show, he (along with Ryker) were responsible for Lita James’ guitars and all the small things that went with them. The novelty hadn’t worn off, and he hoped it never would.
His phone buzzed in a text, and he sighed as he sat down in the back of the large truck.
“Mom or Stacy?” Ryker frowned. “They seriously need to leave you alone for like five minutes.”
“Mom this time.” Griffin hit his message button. At least they could both text so he wasn’t always forced to talk on the phone.
Ryker shook his head in disapproval, and Griffin hunched over his phone so he wouldn’t have to hear or see Ryker’s annoyance.
Mom: Where’s the dustpan? There’s a lot of stuff on the kitchen floor and I can’t find it.
Really? He clenched his jaw and wrote back.
Griffin: Under the sink.
Mom: Thank you!
“Stacy will be next. Better keep it out.” Ryker bumped his brother’s shoulder.
“She’s gotten better.” Griffin took a moment and sat next to the stack of guitar cases. “I thought I was going to go insane the first week, but she’s used to having me around. It’s not her fault.” At least his mom was cool with Stacy staying there while he was gone. He wasn’t sure he’d have left if Stacy had been stuck with her aunt.
Ryker sat next to him.
“Remember this is good for Stacy, and for Mom.” Ryker pulled out a cigarette and Griffin tried not to think about smoking. He hadn’t smoked a single one since being on the road, and it wasn’t for lack of temptation.
Griffin grabbed his Pepsi and unscrewed the cap needing to be busy. “How do you figure?”
“They rely on you too much. And you let them. They both need to learn how to
The softer edges of midnight,
pulled down into the starlight,
and lifted us into flight...
as I…
watch…
you…
The softer lines of feeling
leave me open, peeling
you’re an array on the ceiling
as I
find
you
And in the stars it is written that love conquers all
And in the way inside your arms, together we fall
All the ways
and all the things
that draw me to you
The softer edges of midnight will pull us through…
For two weeks Griffin sat onstage alone and played starting about an hour or two after the show. And for two weeks Lita often found an excuse to come back, sit backstage, and listen to him play.
Lita sat in the dark, Apelu waiting nearby, never saying a word.
Her heart ached at the sincerity of his words, at the loyalty that would keep a guy calling his girl night after night. And each night she watched him play, her room and her bed and her life felt a little emptier.
One thing was for sure—without them directly talking to one another, she was getting to know Griffin.
She wasn’t sure if she needed to find a way to be friends with him, if she was starting to hate him, or if she’d turned into a stalker.
Seven
Griffin grasped the handle of another box of equipment, jerking it off the floor and straining his shoulders. No need for workouts on the road. He felt as if he were forever lifting something, moving something, or running between the truck and the stage.
There had been eight shows before they left California, but the rest of the tour required much longer distances. Two weeks into the tour, they were in the Gorge in Washington State; a gorgeous setting on the Columbia River and a hot, sunny day in the high, almost-desert country. No hotels that night—they’d be camping on the buses or driving in the middle of the night.
Every show turned up something new. Someone new. The songs never got old. The energy never got old. Watching Lita never got old. Ryker’s ability to pick up a girl within five minutes of the start of the show had been old on the first night.
He stacked the guitar cases in the coolest part of the van as the summer heat beat down on the dry grass of the amphitheater. Griffin was amazed that every night after a show, he (along with Ryker) were responsible for Lita James’ guitars and all the small things that went with them. The novelty hadn’t worn off, and he hoped it never would.
His phone buzzed in a text, and he sighed as he sat down in the back of the large truck.
“Mom or Stacy?” Ryker frowned. “They seriously need to leave you alone for like five minutes.”
“Mom this time.” Griffin hit his message button. At least they could both text so he wasn’t always forced to talk on the phone.
Ryker shook his head in disapproval, and Griffin hunched over his phone so he wouldn’t have to hear or see Ryker’s annoyance.
Mom: Where’s the dustpan? There’s a lot of stuff on the kitchen floor and I can’t find it.
Really? He clenched his jaw and wrote back.
Griffin: Under the sink.
Mom: Thank you!
“Stacy will be next. Better keep it out.” Ryker bumped his brother’s shoulder.
“She’s gotten better.” Griffin took a moment and sat next to the stack of guitar cases. “I thought I was going to go insane the first week, but she’s used to having me around. It’s not her fault.” At least his mom was cool with Stacy staying there while he was gone. He wasn’t sure he’d have left if Stacy had been stuck with her aunt.
Ryker sat next to him.
“Remember this is good for Stacy, and for Mom.” Ryker pulled out a cigarette and Griffin tried not to think about smoking. He hadn’t smoked a single one since being on the road, and it wasn’t for lack of temptation.
Griffin grabbed his Pepsi and unscrewed the cap needing to be busy. “How do you figure?”
“They rely on you too much. And you let them. They both need to learn how to
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