“That might work.” He nods his head over and over as he writes. “Yeah, this could work.”
“What is it?” I ask, excited. “Show me.”
He angles the page so I can see it.
It was a Tuesday when I saw you
Moments burned into my mind
I couldn’t stay, I ran away
The image of you still remained
“Crew, that’s great! That verse will be first. We can use all the days. Thursday is next. What should Thursday be? Found you? Kissed you? Loved you? Left you? If we have four verses, it makes sense to use love and then left.”
He nods. “Right.”
I hum a tune that I think will work, then I sing a lyric. “It was a Thursday when I loved you.”
Crew cuts in and sings, “Even though I’m not inclined.”
“Perfect,” I say. “What’s next?”
We gaze at each other, waiting for the words.
“Crap,” I say. “It’ll come to us.”
“No, wait.” He flips to the previous page, then back, making some notes. “How about this?”
I read the verse.
“It was a Thursday when I loved you, even though I’m not inclined, so close to greatness, we can taste it, let’s embrace it, never waste it.”
“You’re a genius,” I say. “Now the chorus.”
He shakes his head. “We’re on a roll, let’s write the fourth verse.”
“It was a Friday when I left you,” I say. When he doesn’t come up with the next line, I add, “Alone and far behind.”
He stares at the wall and recites, “You’re in my head, filled with regret, sometimes I wish we’d never met.”
I close my eyes, hoping he didn’t come up with those words because of me.
“Damn, this is good,” he says. “Now the chorus. Something about days.” He writes down some notes. “How about this: Not a day goes by without thoughts of you.”
I stare at the side of his head. “Without tears of you.”
He looks up at me. “Without fears of you.”
“I look at you and want the future, but all I get’s your past.”
“Yes.” He closes his eyes tightly, thinking. “Day after day I wonder if we were meant to last.”
He writes the whole thing in its entirety. “Shit, Bria, this may be the fastest song we’ve ever written.”
“I think you’re forgetting about the one we wrote on the paper towel.”
He laughs. “Right. Dang, woman, we’re good at this.”
We bang out the rest in record time, then spend the next few hours getting a head start on a melody for Liam.
“Should we call and tell everyone?” I ask.
“Nah. Make them sweat it out.”
“So we’re finished for today?”
“We should celebrate. Dinner?”
“I can’t. It’s Wednesday.”
“I think we’ve already established that.”
“Every Wednesday I have a standing date with Brett if he’s not on shift.”
“You do?” he says sadly.
“Come with us. I’m sure he can get you in.”
“In?”
“We’re going to a Nighthawks game. In a suite. Brett has connections. They’re playing Kansas City tonight.”
“You like baseball?”
“You don’t think I’m a jock?” I tease.
He laughs. “Bria, you had to ask what a three-pointer was when we had you sing ‘On and Off the Court’.”
He grips his chest like he’s having a heart attack. “Oh, you did not just say that.” He kisses his fingers and puts them in the air. “LeBron, she’s kidding. We love you, man.”
I roll my eyes. “Do you want to go or not?”
“Hell yeah, I do.”
~ ~ ~
“Having fun?” I say, sneaking up behind Crew after I went to the bathroom.
“Are you kidding?” he asks, staring out at the game in the ninth inning. “This has been the best day. Thanks for this.”
“Oh, you thought this was it?”
“There’s more?”
“How would you like to go to Sawyer Mills’ place afterward?”
He looks down at the field in shock. “Sawyer Mills, as in the Kansas City shortstop that used to play for the Nighthawks?”
“That’s the one. He still has a townhouse here.” I nod to Denver Andrews, a firefighter Brett works with. “He’s Denver’s brother-in-law. Caden Kessler and Brady Taylor from the Nighthawks will probably be there, too.”
“Shit, Bria. I’ve died and gone to heaven.”
He really is happy. Is it the game or me? Can I make him happy? I’ve asked myself that a hundred times. Crew is not exactly the kind of guy who’s naturally upbeat. He likes to have fun, and when he’s onstage, he’s completely in his element, but happy?