There was no way I could sing in front of all these people. I felt like I needed a fire extinguisher to dowse the inferno of humiliation engulfing me. I gulped down air as I stood frozen in the spotlight like a deer facing down a tractor trailer.
But then Wyatt’s voice filled the air, and I remembered to breathe. I let his voice wrap around me, listening to the words—my words—as they settled under my skin, filling me with that strange powerful sensation again.
Wyatt moved closer to me as he came to the chorus. His shoulder grazed mine as he coaxed me toward the mic. He took a breath and turned to look at me. We were so close his breath ruffled my hair when he spoke. “Stop running from your fears.”
I knew they were the next words in the song, the words he wanted me to sing with him, but they hit me with more meaning than I’d ever expected.
In that moment, I suddenly realized I was afraid of so much more than I even knew. I was afraid of reaching for more, afraid of wanting what I couldn’t have, afraid to fail, afraid to let anyone in . . . but what good was all that fear?
Wasn’t it worth facing if I could feel like this for even one second?
Because as I stepped up to the mic, my eyes locked on Wyatt’s, I couldn’t imagine anything being scary enough to keep me from reaching for this feeling again and again.
I opened my mouth and let go, my soul igniting as I let my fears pour out.
“Stop running from your fears
Your kiss, your lips, your lies.
Speak the words
Let me in.
Even if your lips drip nothing but sin.”
I felt electrified as Wyatt and I sang together. The world disappeared as I gazed into his eyes. I felt like I could slay dragons with this boy by my side. And maybe I could, because standing here on this stage, making music with Wyatt, I felt alive—probably for the first time in my life. And I owed it all to him.
We finished the song, and the world came back into focus slowly at first as I caught my breath—my chest heaving to the same thrilling rhythm as Wyatt’s, his eyes wide with exhilaration.
For a brief moment of disbelief, I thought I might be dreaming. But when the first of the applause broke through my reverie, the world came crashing back in with a vengeance.
I was truly standing on a stage in front of a roaring crowd and more importantly, in front of a boy who cared enough to make me do it. He took my hand, lifted my arm and faced the crowd, pushing his guitar to his back as he prepared to bow, but I lost myself in the moment and pulled him toward me, throwing my arms around his neck instead.
Wyatt’s laughter rumbled through me. “Does this mean you don’t hate me?”
I pulled back enough to see his crooked grin. The joy sparkling in his eyes made my heart do somersaults. No, I definitely didn’t hate him. Quite the opposite actually. But my brain couldn’t find the words to say so.
So, I did the only other thing that came to mind.
I kissed him.
For once, I stopped thinking and followed my heart, letting my lips crash against Wyatt’s smile, until we were locked in a kiss to end all kisses.
Chapter Thirty-Six
Wyatt
“What?” Layne asked, when she caught my eyes on her instead of the road as I drove us home.
I was honestly having a hard time keeping my eyes off of her, and it wasn’t just because of that kiss. Okay, well the kiss had a lot to do with it, but something had changed in Layne tonight. Conquering her fears on that stage had done wonderous things for her. She seemed to glow with a new confidence that I found intensely appealing.
I’d always known she had it in her, but now that she knew it too, she’d be unstoppable. And that made me almost as happy as her surprising kiss had.
“Wyatt!” she exclaimed. “Stop smirking at me like that.”
“I can’t help it.”
“Well, can you at least try? I feel like you’re laughing at me.”
“Oh, I’m definitely not laughing. I’m still in awe of how you rocked that stage.”
She laughed. “I was pretty incredible, wasn’t I?”
I let my eyes slip from the road again to take in her radiance as she grinned, reminiscing about