“I told her to let the band’s people know I’m here.”

“Oh, cool.” We eat and listen, people watch. Glancing at Leo, I see a trail of sweat drip down his neck.

“You’re sweating.” I frown. “Take your beanie off, babe.”

He shakes his head and looks around the room. “Not yet.”

He’s completely over-reacting. “No one here has even looked at you twice,” I remind him.

“Not yet,” he says again and reaches for a cheese stick.

“We should offer Thing One and Thing Two some food.” There is still a ton of food that we’ll never be able to finish.

He smiles down at me and wraps an arm around my shoulders. “They’re about to earn their paychecks.”

Just then the band ends a song and starts talking to the audience. “Hey, Seattle, are you having a fuckin’ good time yet?”

The crowd goes crazy, screaming and whooping, and I grin. I love live shows.

“What would you say if I told you I have a surprise for you?” The lead singer asks and takes a long swig of water. More cheers.  “An old friend of mine is here.”

“That’s our cue,” Leo murmurs to me and nods to security. “Come on.”

“I’m not going on stage,” I protest, and he laughs.

“No, you’re going to be in the wings. I don’t want you in this crowd.” We join our burly security. “I want you guys to escort her to the wings. They’re expecting you and will show you where to go.”

They nod and off we go through the crowd.

“Have you guys heard of a little band called Nash?” The crowd explodes in applause and cheers. “How about the ugly front guy they have, Leo?”

We are led to the right side of the stage and through a door and to an immediate left, and I’m told to stay right here, behind a black curtain. I’m looking onto the stage, and can see the whole band.

“Well,” the singer continues, “I knew Leo back in the day when he was just singing around Seattle, and it just so happens that he’s in town and has dropped by to see us!”

He has to stop speaking because the cheers are deafening. I can’t help but bounce on the balls of my feet in excitement, my throat clenches in joy and I grasp my hands together, holding them against my chest.

Suddenly, from the other side of the stage, Leo hops up and joins the singer, giving him a real hug and whispering in his ear. He’s pulled his beanie off, showing his messy light brown hair and piercings. He’s still in his blazer, but he takes it off and throws it off stage to someone in the wings.

The girls scream some more as he stands there in just his Levi’s tee, the sleeves hugging his muscular, tattooed arms. Dear Lord, he’s beautiful.

And completely in his element.

He’s grinning widely, waving and nodding at the crowd, and he takes a mic when it’s offered to him.

“Hey, Seattle!”

More screams, and I clap along with the crowd. Leo turns his head and finds me behind the black curtain and winks.

“So bro, what do you want to do?” His friend asks him.

“Well… I don’t know.” He frowns and looks out at the fans. “Do you guys want to hear something?”

Well, that’s a stupid question. The girls go mad, and Leo laughs.

“You’re welcome to borrow my guitar, man.”

“Nah.” Leo shakes his head and motions to the piano. “Can I jack your piano?”

“Anything you want.”

The pianist stands and bows to Leo and the whole band exits the stage, saying hi to me as they pass, and Leo is alone on stage. Whoever is running the lights points a spotlight on him, dimming the rest of the stage.

I can’t look away. I can’t blink.

“So, this is a new song,” he begins, adjusting the mic on the stand and settling behind the piano. “Would you like to hear it?”

“I love you Leo!” a girl screams drunkenly from the front row.

“Thank you, sugar,” he winks at her, chuckles and begins to noodle the keys, warming his hands. “I’m gonna slow things down a bit. This song is called Sunshine.”

He plays the lead in. It’s soft and sweet and glaringly familiar to me.

And then he starts to sing.

I don’t wanna be your friend

‘Cause I’ve already let you in

Every time I see your sweet blue eyes

I know I need to make you mine

My walls crumble… And crumble

So all you see is the real me

I’m stunned. It’s me. He’s singing about me. And the music is the music he wrote when I was sick, when we were at the piano together.

He hits the hook, and my heart swells to almost bursting.

I wrote that music.

I had no idea he was writing a song about me. Or that it would turn into a song at all. I thought he was just playing around while he was bored and taking care of me.

He wrote a fucking song for me.

When you smile

Your sunshine hits me

And the shadows in my soul

They are gone

Oh how many times

Have I stared at your lips

Wishing I could feel them on me

When you’re so close

Baby, I forget how to breathe

He looks up at me and pins me with those deep gray eyes, his look is fierce and possessive, and then one side of his mouth tips up as he leads back into the chorus.

When you smile

Your sunshine hits me

And the shadows in my soul

They are gone

When I run my hand

Over your perfect skin

I know you see me

And not what I’m covered in

My walls crumble… And crumble

So all you see is the me I need you to see

I feel the tears tumble over onto my cheeks, but can’t move to brush them away. His voice is surrounding me, cocooning me in its warmth, in the tenderness of the words, in the sweet music from the piano.

Can’t play well my ass. I bet he does everything well.

Finally the song comes to an end and he takes a deep breath and grins at the audience. He stands and waves, gives a small bow, and runs off the stage to me, scooping me up into his arms.

“Oh my God!” I exclaim and wrap my arms around his neck.

“Did you like it?” He asks and leans back to look into my eyes.

“It’s fantastic,” I respond and kiss him soundly.

“It’s yours.”

“I hope so, or I’d have to cut a bitch.” I immediately respond and he lets out a belly laugh, holding me tightly against him. “It’s the best gift I’ve ever been given, thank you.” I murmur in his ear and he grins widely. Proudly.