“Oh my God, B., you’re not my babysitter.” Liza grabbed the shades and slid them back over his eyes before smoothing his shirt and patting his dark-stubble-covered cheeks. “Go play. I can handle myself.”
While she was still patting his face, Brennan lifted his hands like a barrier between them and peered at her over the top of his shades with a look of warning. “Please don’t do that, L,” he said in a tone that was still gruff, but several decibels lower.
Liza drew back her hands and stepped away from him. The awkwardness between them had abruptly returned, and now it was just uncomfortable. She wasn’t sure what to make of it, but she didn’t like it. There was already enough drama trying to navigate the confusing waters of her interaction with Connor, and she definitely didn’t needthatwith the man who’d become her best friend over the past few months.
“Sorry,” Liza mumbled, echoing his awkward tone from a couple minutes prior.
“I got her, Riley.” Connor clapped Brennan’s shoulder. “We’ll see you later.”
Brennan held out his hand to Oscar, who gripped it, and they drew together in a verybrohug. “You’re gonna slay, my friend. Set this place on fire.”
“Yes, sir.” Oscar gave a nod as they broke the hug, and Brennan began backing up into the crowd.
“Later, fam!” he hollered, throwing a peace sign at the group before he turned and strode away.
Oscar sucked in a massive breath and then exhaled a sound like balloon deflating. “Lord, y’all. I’m freakin’ out a little.”
“Don’t freak out, Oscar. Look,” Liza said, sliding past Connor to hook one arm around Oscar’s elbow and point at the floor of the stage. “See the rugs?”
“Yeah.”
“They’re just like the rugs we used in your house.” She squeezed his hand. “If you get too nervous, just look at the rugs, and look at your feet, and think about being at home. Or find us in the crowd. We’ll be out there having a good time, and that’s all you’re doing here. This isn’t a music competition. All these folks want is something good to dance to.” She lowered her voice and spoke into his ear. “And they’re all drunk. You could play Mary had a Little Lamb, and they’d be excited about it.”
Oscar laughed as the brass band wrapped up their set and began to bow off the stage. He gave another shake of his limbs and bounced a couple more times before placing his hat on his head. “Here goes somethin’.”
“This is your moment!” Liza clutched her chest like a proud mother hen. “I’m so proud of you!”
“Thank you.” Oscar kissed her cheek, shook Jimmy’s hand, and then fist-bumped Connor.
Oscar turned away from them and climbed the steps just as his name blasted over the speakers and applause rose from the crowd. He didn’t say a single word and immediately pointed his horn toward the sky as he unleashed a high-pitched revelry that drew cheering and whistling and hooting and hollering from the mass of people. The wail of his trumpet descended into an upbeat, parade-style rendition of a classic New Orleans jazz standard, and the percussion section set up on the back of the stage joined in, causing the people to stomp and swing and spin with each other.
Liza clutched her cheeks as she grinned widely and squealed in the back of her throat. “You guys, I am proud. I am like a proud mama, and this might be the best moment ever.”
Jimmy and Connor chuckled, and Connor gave her waist a nudge toward the crowd.
“Let’s go where he can see us,” he said. “Jimmy, you coming?”
“Nah, I’m gonna stay back here and watch the equipment.” He lifted the straw fishing hat off his head and wiped his brow as he pointed at Liza with the hat. “Drink that Gatorade, Liza. You still look a little peaked, and it’s sweltering out here.”
She waved her hands, attempting to mask an exasperated expression. “I’m fine, I promise.”
She headed into the crowd and reached behind her to grab Connor’s hand to avoid getting separated. They found a spot between the front and middle of the crowd where there was an open gap of grass amidst people who were dancing, but staying in one place, and Connor set the Gatorade on the grass next to their feet. Despite the extra room, he stood close behind her and placed his hands on her hips, which caused Liza to glance back at him.
He wasn’t even looking at her. His eyes were transfixed and focused intently on Oscar marching back and forth across the stage and pausing to stomp his foot every so often.
“Lemme hear ya, New Orleans!” Oscar shouted into the microphone.
The crowd roared, and Connor let out a high-pitched whistle.
“Yeah you right!” Connor hollered, lifting his hands to cup his mouth and then clutching Liza’s waist again, holding her absently as if it were the most natural and unextraordinary thing in the world.
Liza smiled to herself and decided it was nice.
No…it waswonderful.
Connor was standing with her, holding her close to him like it was no big deal, people were dancing to Oscar’s lively brand of jazz and brass, and pure elation saturated the stifling air. Everything about the moment wasperfect, and her head began to float a little—whether that was from the heat or the excitement, Liza couldn’t tell. It occurred to her that she’d lived here formonthsat this point, even though she’d threatened both Connor and Brennan on several occasions that she was fed up with the drama and was going to leave as soon as she could.
But suddenly, a stabbing sensation pierced her chest at the idea ofeverleaving.
