Meant to Marry Me

The bus ride to The Rusty Wagon Wheel took about an hour, but it wasn't the anxious, drawn-out event Bree had anticipated. Instead, her bandmates were full of jokes and wise cracks, which kept Bree so entertained, she had a hard time thinking about where she was going and who she was about to see. It also helped that Shawna declared how much she loved her outfit the moment she saw her. Bree was more relaxed than she had been all day when the bus pulled into the parking lot, circling around back so they could get out and go through a back entryway, undetected by the crowds congregated out front.

Bree took a deep breath, glad to see that the truck with their equipment was already there, and the roadies were nearly done unloading everything. Since Back Roads would open, there wouldn't be room on the stage for everything, and some of the larger pieces, like the drums and keyboards, would have to be switched out between the two sets, but they'd get as much ready to go before either band took the stage as they could. "You ready for this?" Zach asked, placing his hand on her shoulder.

"I think so," Bree replied. "I'll just head to the green room and hang out there while Back Roads plays." If she could avoid Sam altogether, that would be easier than having to face him. It seemed like a good strategy considering Trent wasn't there to hold her hand through it.

"Okay," Zach said, giving her a supportive smile.

"We're right here if you need us," Shawna reminded her.

Bree nodded and headed out of the bus.

A representative from the club met them in the parking lot. "Hi. I'm Rob. Welcome to The Rusty Wagon Wheel. We're so glad to have you. If you'll follow me, I'll take you to your room."

Since this had been Shawna's job at the club where she'd met Bree and the rest of the band, Bree let her go first. Zach had her hand, and the two of them looked excited to finally have a chance to play music together on stage again as they walked in through the back door. Bree stayed behind them, the rest of the band following them as some roadies brought in equipment through another entryway to her right. Everything was just as it should be--anticipation for the show began to replace the anxiety she'd been feeling at the idea of seeing Sam. With any luck, she wouldn't see him at all.

Voices carried out the open door backstage which Rob seemed to be leading them to. He paused in the hallway. "This is our green room. You should be plenty comfortable in there while the opening band plays their set. They're up in about ten minutes." He checked his watch and gestured for Bree's band to go in.

Confused, Shawna paused. "Is... the other band in this room, too?"

"Yeah. We only have one green room," Rob said with a shrug. "But it's plenty big enough for all of you."

"Is it the size of Texas?" Zach asked, and Bree choked back a laugh getting his point. It would have to be the size of the Lone Star state for there to be enough room for her and Sam in the same room. "Uh... no. Is there a problem?" Rob asked. His face was pale beneath the red, shaggy beard that covered most of it.

"No, it's fine," Bree said, stepping between them. She wasn't going to be an inconvenience to both her bandmates and the other group over something that had happened over five years ago. "It's no problem."

Rob breathed a sigh of relief and gestured for them to go on in. Zach caught her eyes, and Bree nodded, so he went in, alongside Shawna, and Bree followed because she had no choice.

The room was large, that much was true, and there was plenty of seating. Sofas and chairs lined the walls. In the center of the room was a table full of drinks and snacks, and Back Roads was congregated around it, the seven of them talking and carrying on as if they, too, were feeling the excitement of the upcoming show.

"If you need anything at all, just let me know. I'm going to go check to see how long we have until the stage is set," Rob said. "But I'll be right back."

"Thank you," Bree managed, but she couldn't turn her head to look at Rob. Instead, she found herself staring at a familiar face. He looked different. Five years would do that to a person. But it was him. Her ex-boyfriend. Sam.

His eyes were fixed on her as well. Bree fought her mouth, trying to get her lips to move, to say something, anything. But she couldn't. She could only stare at him, a thousand questions coursing through her mind, but not a single statement or greeting amongst them.

He looked like he'd put on weight--in a good way. His shoulders were broader. It was hard to say how defined he might be since he was wearing a plaid shirt and jeans, but he looked good, better than he had when they'd dated. His hair was different, too, longer on top, and he hadn't shaved. His beard was well trimmed, as was the mustache above his thin lips, but he certainly looked different like this. He looked good.

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"But not as good as Trent," she reminded herself. Besides, Sam had cheated on her, slept with her roommate, and that was unforgivable. Even if Bree hadn't been wearing an engagement ring, there was no way in hell she'd ever give Sam Fowler a second chance.Copyright Nôv/el/Dra/ma.Org.

She could be civil to him, though. Realizing the entire room full of people were staring at her, waiting for her to say something, she finally managed to free her tongue. "Hey, Sam," she said, her face softening into a slight smile. Then, before he could say more than a muttered, "hi" in return, she turned her attention to the rest of the band. "Hello, everyone."

"Hi there, Bree," the lead singer for Back Roads, a guy Bree had never met but knew through the industry, said. Offering her his hand, he said, "I'm Jim Campbell."

"I know. It's nice to meet you." His grip was strong for a tall, lanky dude. Despite his build, he had a handsome face that drove the girls wild. His bright green eyes were warm and inviting.

Jim introduced the rest of his band to Bree, and she did the same, all of them shaking hands before conversations broke out around them. Bree wished she could jump into a discussion about music with someone else, but she found herself standing across the table from Sam, awkwardly attempting to look anywhere but into his face, praying Rob would come back soon and take them away to the stage.

"How's it going?" Sam asked. Out of the corner of her eye, Bree could see him glance at her but then look away quickly.

"Good. Things are going pretty great, actually, thanks. Your last record did well. Or so I heard."

"Yep. Yeah, it sold quite a few copies." Sam's head rocked back and forth, and Bree found herself nodding along with him, not sure what else to say. She'd hoped he'd say something else about music. Instead, he stopped talking. Not sure what else to say, the two of them stood there nodding for several seconds, and she imagined anyone who was paying them any mind at all probably thought they looked ridiculous. Thankfully, Rob was back. "All right, Back Roads. Two minutes to stage, please. Two minutes."

"Well, that's not a lot of warning," Jim said with a chuckle.

If you're loving the book, nel5s.org is where the adventure continues. Join us for the complete experience all for free. The next chapter is eagerly waiting for you! "Sorry." Rob muttered, glancing up from the clipboard he was carrying.

"No, it's okay. I need to hit the head real quick, though. It was nice meeting y'all. Take care."

"Break a leg," Chase called, getting a bunch of laughs. Bree waved goodbye as the other band filed out the door, glad to have the reprieve but regretting every awkward second she'd spent in Sam's presence. Why had she acted like such a nervous little girl? She shouldn't have paid him any attention at all.

"That went well," Shawna said, resting her hand on Bree's shoulder.

"It did?" Bree asked, turning to look at her with wide eyes.

"Hey, you didn't yell at him, throw anything at him, or punch him in the nose. That's something," Zach added, folding his arms across his massive chest.

"I guess so." Bree shrugged, picking up a bottle of water from the table and taking a few steps before slumping onto one of the sofas. They'd have over an hour between Back Roads playing and the roadies switching out their equipment before they actually took the stage. Normally, she'd want to go out and hear the opening band play, standing backstage so she could listen. But not tonight.

The rest of the band found seats, most of them with snacks and drinks in hand. The conversation shifted to sports, which Bree was thankful for. She didn't want to talk about Sam anymore. She didn't even want to think about him. Instead, she let her mind wander to Trent. What was he doing now? Had he arrived at the awards ceremony? Whatever he was up to, he had to be having a better night than she was.

Bree took a deep breath and pulled out her phone. Her friend Christy was supposed to come watch the show that night, and she was excited to see her. She knew Christy was likely to be late, but she sent her a text to let her know that she could come backstage if she got there before the show started.

"Awesome," Christy shot back. "I should be there in a few."

Knowing "a few" to Christy might mean hours, Bree replied, "Cool," and set her phone in her lap, not holding her breath that Christy would be there before the show started, but at least looking for her friend would be a distraction, and that's what she needed at the moment because seeing Sam had stirred up emotions in Bree she hadn't felt in a long time. The kind she didn't want to ever experience again, like the feeling that she just wasn't good enough. She'd have to shake it before she went on stage. The last thing she needed to be thinking when she went back on stage for the first time in months was that she was anything less than amazing.

A glance around the room reminded her that she'd assembled a brilliant team of musicians. She could do this. They could do this. Bree did her best to slow her breathing and remember that she was here because she'd earned her way to this point, and nothing--no one--was going to stop her now.