A Song for Rory

by Cerella Sechrist

  She nearly ran the last few steps, then pulled open the door with a creak and climbed inside. She never locked it. It wasn’t worth stealing, and she kept nothing of value inside. But when she reached for the keys she usually kept hooked on the belt loop of her jeans, she frowned.

  Oh, no. She’d left her keys beneath the counter of the bar inside. She pushed her head against the headrest and groaned. She couldn’t go back for them. No way.

  Which meant that if she wanted to avoid Sawyer, she’d better start walking.

  * * *

  SAWYER MIGHT HAVE missed her if he hadn’t decided to swing by her apartment and make sure she’d made it home okay. It was a thinly veiled excuse to see her, but he didn’t much care at this point. She’d dodged him twice, and while he probably deserved it, he’d been hurt that she’d broken her promise to stick around at the coffee shop. He was preparing what to say to her as he drove, speaking the words aloud to the silence of his rental car.

  “Rory, I know I don’t deserve it, but I would appreciate it if you could respect the relationship we had enough to hear me out.”

  He cringed, considering how she’d respond to that little speech. It wasn’t as if he’d exhibited a lot of respect for their relationship when he’d dumped her. He drew a breath and tried again.

  “It would mean a lot to me if you’d just listen to what I have to say.”

  No better. He didn’t think she was much interested in what would mean a lot to him.

  He cleared his throat and considered how to rephrase his request, then stopped as he noted a lone figure, striding briskly down the sidewalk ahead. He’d know those stiff shoulders anywhere. He accelerated a few feet ahead and slid the car into an empty space on the street. He killed the engine and exited the driver’s side just as Rory came abreast of the truck. She took one look at him and her jaw went slack.

  “You followed me?”

  “Hardly. You didn’t give me much of a chance to follow you anywhere after you bailed back at the Lighthouse.” He tried to keep his tone even, but a note of accusation still leaked through. “You promised you’d stay.”

  She shifted from one foot to the other, and he recognized guilt in her expression. “I did stay,” she protested. “I stayed for your entire performance. Although if I’d known you planned to ambush me into taking the stage with you—”

  “Which was not so different from what you did to me,” he pointed out. He had her there, and he could tell she knew it, too, by the way she wouldn’t meet his eyes. Her shoulders remained set, however.

  “Rory, can we please talk?”

  “You mean can you talk? I don’t imagine I’ll have much to say. And even if I did, it’s not as if you asked my opinion the last time we talked.”

  He grimaced. Okay, so she was still hurt. Not that he could blame her, but maybe it had been a touch of arrogance on his part to assume she’d welcome him back, if not exactly warmly, then at least not with this degree of vehemence.

  He glanced down the street. “Look, your apartment is only a few blocks from here. Let me drive you home. I’ll talk on the way. If you don’t like anything I have to say by the time we reach your place...” He drew a breath, afraid to gamble away his chance but knowing he couldn’t exactly keep showing up where he wasn’t wanted. “Then I’ll leave you alone. For good. Deal?”

  She didn’t answer him right away but scuffed her heels on the pavement as she considered. After a long minute, during which he was pretty sure he’d held his breath for the entire sixty seconds, she nodded.

  “Fine. Just until we reach the apartment.”

  He should have felt relief, but he only experienced a wave of apprehension. He had less than five minutes to convince her.

  He would have to talk fast.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  “FIRST OF ALL, I apologize for the way I treated you.”

  Rory had to admit, it was a good place for him to start. She kept her arms crossed over her midsection and looked out the window as he drove. It felt as if the vehicle was moving well under the speed limit, but she decided not to push him about it. She’d agreed to hear him out, so she might as well let him talk. She was determined that nothing he said would change her mind anyway.

  “The way I left you was wrong. I wish I had never have broken things off the way I did. We should have at least talked. You deserved the chance to be heard. And I regret that I didn’t give you that. You can’t know how much.”

  She felt some of the tension leave her shoulders. He paused as though waiting for a response from her.

  “Keep talking.” It was the most encouragement she was prepared to give. Besides, it felt good to hear him admit he was wrong. She never thought he would.

  “It was a dream come true for me—which doesn’t excuse what I did,” he added as she stiffened again. “I was so distracted by the opportunity that I didn’t consider what I was giving up in exchange.”

  She frowned. “What was it you were giving up?” She asked the question so softly that she thought he might not hear her. But he did.

  “You. And everything you are to me. More than just my girlfriend, but my soul mate. The person who’s always been there, the one I wanted to protect and cherish for the rest of my life.”

  The words caused her heart to catch in her throat as tears threatened. She’d dreamed of hearing him say these things. But it had been too long. “It’s been almost two years, Sawyer. Why didn’t you come back before this? You never called. Not so much as a text or email to see how I was doing.”

  “I know. At first, I thought a clean break was better, that it would only make things worse if I got in touch. And I admit, there was so much going on that it was easy not to think about it. But you have to know that even in the midst of this whole new life I was experiencing, you were still in the background of my every thought. Before I could stop it, I’d often find myself wondering, ‘What would Rory think of that?’ Or ‘I can’t wait to tell Rory about this.’ That should have been my first clue that I’d made a horrible mistake in giving you up.”

  “I’m sure the recording deal and fan base made up for it.” She didn’t mean to sound so bitter. When had she let her emotions become so ugly?

  “Those things distracted me from what I was feeling, but they didn’t make up for it. And like I said, there were so many new experiences for me that when I did begin to miss you, I could force it to the back of my mind.”

  She wanted to make some sarcastic remark like “out of sight, out of mind” or “glad to know I’m so easily forgotten.” But she knew that wasn’t what he meant, and it wasn’t fair to mock him when she sensed he was being sincere.

  “I’ve been lonely without you,” he went on.

  She couldn’t help herself this time. She scoffed.

  “I’m serious.” He turned his head in her direction. “There’s always someone around, it’s true. I have fans and my band, makeup artists and stylists, executives and management teams, collaborators and fellow musicians. I’m surrounded by people almost twenty-four-seven.” He blew out a breath. “But none of them really know me. Not like you do.”

  “Not like I did,” she replied. “I don’t know you anymore, Sawyer.”

  “But you do. I haven’t changed so much. I’m still Sawyer Landry, deep on the inside.”

  “Except now you’ve got millions of fans the world over, and your face is instantly recognizable wherever you go. And don’t forget the house in Nashville and your ranch in Texas. And that starlet you were dating for a while...what was her name?”

  He held up a hand to stem the tide of facts, which she knew sounded more like accusations than observations. “Okay, okay. So life is different for me. My situation is different. But I’m still Sawyer Landry, son of Ford and Olivia Landry. Brother to Chase, best friend to Gavin...and if I had my way, boyfri
end to Rory Callahan.”

  He fell silent after that last part. She had the feeling he hadn’t meant to speak that possibility aloud. Probably because he didn’t want to scare her off. But she wasn’t scared. In fact, him speaking those words gave her a tiny thrill of hope—hope that part of her wanted to smother. But even if she did, she knew it would just resurface.

  “How do I know you’re not back just because you need some fresh inspiration for your next album?”

  He seemed to take her concern seriously and didn’t answer immediately. “Music has always been at the heart of who we are, Rory, and I admit, I miss that inspiration. And I’ve always relied on your opinion because I trust you. But that’s just it—it’s about you, not the music. Because even if all that went away, and I never wrote another lyric or played another song, you’d still be the one thing that inspires me, in anything and everything I do.”

  This little speech left her breathless and entirely without words. Fortunately, Sawyer continued.

  “I know it will take some time,” he said, his voice hushed, “but I was hoping maybe you could learn to trust me again. And that we, the two of us, we could, you know...” He faltered and came to a stop.

  She saw the turn toward the restaurant, and her apartment, up ahead. His time was almost up.

  “Can you... Is that something you can do?”

  She swallowed, looking out the window so she didn’t have to face him. “I’m still not sure what it is you’re asking from me,” she hedged.

  He didn’t hesitate in his reply. “I’m asking you to forgive me, for a start. Beyond that...maybe we could just try to talk, like we used to. I want to know what life’s been like for you the last couple of years—what you’ve been up to, if you’ve written any new songs and if you like working for your brother. And maybe it’s possible we could, I don’t know, start again?”

  She chewed on her lower lip as she contemplated these words.

  “Will you at least think about it?” he asked as they neared the restaurant.

  Rory considered but stayed silent as he pulled into a parking space in the back alley, near the steps that led to her second-floor apartment. He cut the engine, and she suspected he planned to walk her to the front door. He’d always been a gentleman about that sort of thing. Or maybe he was trying to buy himself more time.

  She tugged on the door handle and let herself out of the car. Sawyer hurried to exit the vehicle and meet her on the opposite side.

  “Rory?”

  She turned to look at him and felt her heart catch. Maybe he was still her Sawyer underneath, the one person she knew as well as, maybe even better than, herself.

  “I’ll think about it...”

  His face lit up, a smile breaking through.

  “On one condition.”

  His smile faltered. “What’s that?”

  “I’ll tell you later. Just show up here tomorrow morning. Eight a.m. sharp, you got it?”

  “You promise you’ll be here?” he countered.

  She offered him a little smile of her own. “I’ll be here. Just make sure you are. And bring your guitar.”

  He frowned. “Why—”

  “No questions. Just come. And I’ll give you my answer after.”

  “After what?”

  She didn’t reply but rather turned her back and headed up the stairs to her apartment.

  She couldn’t resist throwing the words down to him once she reached the landing.

  “Thanks for the ride...cowboy.”

  * * *

  SAWYER ASSUMED THAT when he showed up at Rory’s place the next day, he’d find out what she had planned. He was wrong. She had her truck back, presumably she’d gotten it before he showed up, or else someone from the coffee shop had dropped it off for her.

  Rory stowed their guitars in the small space behind the front seat before climbing into the driver’s side. When he hesitated, she waved a hand impatiently.

  “Come on, we don’t want to be late.”

  “Late for what?” he asked as he opened the passenger-side door.

  She didn’t answer but rather started the engine, and he decided he’d better get inside the cab before she changed her mind and took off without him.

  He tried asking again after they’d passed the town limits and once more when they merged onto I-95 south, but Rory only smirked. He’d just have to trust her. He decided to give up asking and simply enjoy the chance to be with her, just the two of them. Trapped in a vehicle like this, at least she couldn’t dodge his questions.

  “So, tell me what you’ve been up to since you moved back to town?”

  She was hesitant with her responses at first, sharing only minimal details about working in Connor’s restaurant, which had become wildly popular over the last two years, and what some of their acquaintances were up to these days. She opened up a bit more the longer they drove, and filled him in on how Connor had met Harper, the restaurant critic who’d nearly destroyed his career only to find herself working for him some time later. She caught him up on the antics of Molly, her young niece, and how Gavin, Erin and their son, Kitt, were doing since he saw them last. He noticed that she directed a lot of the conversation away from herself, instead bringing him up to date on the town and community. He recognized this as a defense mechanism, but he wasn’t satisfied. He wanted to know more—about her.

  “But what about you?” he persisted after she’d told him about Harper’s sister, Paige, and how she had appointed herself wedding planner. “What are you up to these days?”

  She fidgeted, the cracked vinyl seats squeaking as she did.

  “I told you. I work for Connor, and I live in the apartment above the restaurant.”

  “But I knew that already. What else do you do? I take it you play at the Lighthouse every Friday night.”

  “Most Friday nights,” she agreed. “Once in a while, I’ll skip it for a girls’ night in with Harper, Erin, Tessa and Molly.”

  “No Paige?”

  She shook her head. “Paige lives in DC. She drives into town fairly often to help with the wedding stuff, but she has her life in the city, with her husband and daughter.”

  “Ah. You’re still writing songs?”

  “Some.”

  He paused. “I liked that song you performed last night. ‘Falling for You’?”

  “Oh, right. Um, thanks.” She kept her eyes on the road, studiously avoiding his gaze. He’d hoped that maybe referring to a song that he assumed was about him might get her to open up a bit, but if anything, it made her even more quiet.

  “It was a good song,” he said.

  She didn’t respond, and he searched for another way to keep her talking.

  “Are you still performing at the Independence Day festival every year?”

  She nodded. “Yeah, I’ve kept that up. It was...tough, that first year. Right after...”

  “Oh, right.” He’d broken up with her just weeks before the festival was to take place, leaving her to handle it on her own. While he was deliberating on whether he should apologize for that or let it pass, Rory reached over and turned on the radio.

  “So, still no hints as to where we’re going?” He decided to let it go and change subjects.

  She turned the music up louder.

  “You’ll see when we get there,” she announced over the steady rhythm of classic rock and roll.

  He settled back in his seat, recognizing that Rory was done talking for now. He might as well enjoy the music. It was obvious he wasn’t going to learn anything more for the time being.

  * * *

  OF ALL THE places Sawyer might have guessed Rory would take him, the inner city of Baltimore hadn’t even been on the list. But when they pulled into a parking lot, flanked by a basketball court on the left and a
shabby brick building on the right with a sign labeling it the Harbor House Youth Center, he assumed they’d reached their destination.

  “Rory?” he asked uneasily, wondering exactly what they were doing in one of the most crime-ridden neighborhoods in the area.

  “Don’t worry,” she assured him. “I’ll protect you from the gangbangers.”

  Her nonchalance put him at ease, and he laughed. “Way to emasculate a man.”

  She climbed out of the cab and grabbed her guitar from the backseat before slamming the door. Sawyer followed her lead. Five minutes later, they were in a classroom of sorts, with floor-to-ceiling windows and industrial lighting overhead. Despite the shabby appearance of the building’s exterior, the inside was warm and welcoming with strings of multicolored lights dangling from the ceiling, and polished wooden floors. The walls were covered in graffiti artwork with uplifting messages like Stay Strong, Survive and Hope. There were folding chairs and a few tables in the room, and Sawyer noticed a collection of instruments dominating one corner.

  A group of around fifteen dark-skinned youth ranging in ages from maybe eight to fourteen or fifteen were scattered throughout the room. Only one other adult seemed to be monitoring them.

  “Yo, Miss Rory!” called one of the older teens as they moved farther into the room. “What’s up, girl?”

  “Hey, Jamal,” Rory replied with a wave. “Have you been practicing that song I gave you?”

  “You know it,” Jamal replied, eagerly confident.

  “You didn’t say you were bringing some guy with you,” another of the kids pointed out.

  Rory glanced at Sawyer. “This is Sawyer,” she offered and then introduced each of the kids in the room, though he knew it would take him a bit to remember all the names.

  “Sawyer. He your boyfriend or something?” one of the girls asked. Sawyer thought Rory had introduced her as Kenesha.