Symphony in Blue

by M. J. Duncan

  Dana’s pre-recorded voicemail message picked up after the fifth ring. “Hey, this is Dana. If whatever you’re calling about is urgent, shoot me a text, or else just go ahead and leave me a message and I’ll get back to you as soon as I can. Thanks.”

  “Hey,” Gwen murmured, her voice breaking. “Mallory just left and I…I was hoping we could talk about what happened tonight.” She licked her lips. “I know it ended in the worst way possible, but I…” Her voice trailed off and she shook her head. “Will you please just let me know that you’re okay? I…” She sighed. “I just wish you were here. So…I guess, wherever you are…please be safe.”

  She disconnected the call and stared at the phone for a couple seconds, debating the intelligence of her next move before deciding that an ass-kicking was worth it if it somehow got her in touch with Dana.

  “I was wondering when I’d be hearing from you,” Brooke drawled.

  “So she called you guys.”

  “Regan, but yeah. Sounds like things got exciting over there after we left.”

  “That’s one way to put it, I guess. Is she there?”

  “Yeah. She just pulled up a couple minutes ago, actually.”

  Gwen closed her eyes, relief washing over her now that she knew Dana was safe. “Can I talk to her? Please?”

  “Hold on.” Gwen listed to the silence on the other end of the line. A moment later Brooke came back and said, “She’s on the patio with Regan. It…well, if I’m being honest, it doesn’t look like something I want to interrupt right now, but once she’s calmed down and stopped kicking the shit out of my patio furniture I’ll let her know you called. Okay?”

  “Can I come over?”

  “I don’t…I think it’d be better if you just sat tight, for now.”

  “Brooke…” Gwen pleaded.

  “I know, sweetie. Believe me, I know. You two are just…you’re like magnets. You can’t help it and, honestly, I’m surprised you guys held out as long as you did. I don’t know what has her so pissed, really, because you both knew that things were…complicated, but I’m going to let Regan worry about that. How are you? How did things go with Mallory?”

  “I’m…” Gwen’s voice trailed off into a sigh that conveyed better than words possibly could exactly how she was feeling at the moment. “Things with Mallory went as well as I could have hoped, given the circumstances,” Gwen murmured. She huffed a laugh that was completely devoid of humor and added, “She actually proposed, if you could believe it.”

  “Oh fuck.”

  “Yeah. That was pretty much my reaction too.” Gwen sighed. “It…telling her everything wasn’t easy, but lord knows that whole conversation was long overdue and she deserved the truth. I was expecting a lot more yelling, to be honest, but as hurt as she was…it was just a really bittersweet way for things to end.”

  “I’ll bet. I’m glad you’re okay.”

  “I’d be doing better if Dana would at least answer her damn phone.”

  “I know.” Brooke sighed. “Give her a few minutes to vent whatever the hell it is that she’s venting about before Regan talks her down, and then I’ll go be the adult voice of reason. Okay?”

  “Do I really have any other choice?” Gwen muttered.

  “I’ll get your girl to you,” Brooke promised. “Even if it means I have to drive her over there myself, I will get her to you, okay? But you gotta just give her a little time to work through whatever it is that’s got her so messed up…”

  “Okay.” Gwen closed her eyes and sighed. “Thank you.”

  “My pleasure, sweetie. I’ll shoot you a text when I have a better idea of what’s going on, okay?”

  “Is Regan gonna kick my ass?”

  Brooke chuckled. “No. But if what I’m looking at outside my kitchen window is any indication, she may be kicking Dana’s soon. We got you guys on this, okay?”

  Gwen licked her lips and nodded, even though Brooke couldn’t see her. “I can’t lose her, Brooke. I—”

  “You won’t. Give us some time to work our magic.”

  “Thank you for taking care of her.”

  “Just invite us to the wedding and we’ll call it even,” Brooke replied lightly.

  Gwen smiled in spite of herself. “If we ever get there, you’ll be in the damn thing.”

  “Damn right we will. Sit tight, beautiful. I’ll text you soon.”

  “Okay,” Gwen murmured.

  When the line went dead, she drew a deep, ragged breath, and let it go slowly as she turned back toward her open front door. Brooke said to sit tight, so she would. She just prayed she didn’t go crazy while she did. The house was far too quiet for her busy thoughts once she made her way back inside, and she knew that the only thing that might possibly serve as a distraction from all of this was leaning against the bookshelf in the study, stable and strong and enduring.

  She glanced briefly at Storm as she passed through the living room, murmuring an apology for the noise she was about to make, and she felt something inside her settle, just a little, when she made her way down the hall to the study and her gaze landed on her beloved cello.

  Music had saved her more times than she could possibly count during her life—she just hoped that it had the power to do so again when things were more unsure than they’d ever been.

  She ran a hand down the neck of the cello as she took her seat, and attempted to focus all of her attention on the roughness of the strings beneath her callused fingertips, her own personal brand of meditation. She closed her eyes and took one deep breath after another as she ran her fingers up and down the strings, linking her breath to each slow circuit until some of the chaos inside her faded.

  Sheet music was unnecessary as she, with eyes closed, set her bow to strings, the fingers of her left hand rising to find their starting place. Miaskovsky’s Sonata No. 2 was not one of her most favorite pieces, but she knew she wouldn’t be pleased with the result if she tried to play something upbeat and the haunting tune was a perfect fit to her mood.

  Dark.

  Edgy.

  Unsure.

  She blew out all the air in her lungs and leaned her head to the left as she launched into the piece, her bow moving almost without effort, her fingers dancing upon the strings, sending low, mournful notes loose to fill the air around her. She willed herself to focus solely on the music. To let herself drift with the notes, to ride the wave of sound and melody.

  To not keep checking her phone to see if she had any messages.

  It didn’t work, of course, but she tried.

  Music had always been her love, her sanctuary, the most important part of her life, but it now shared that top spot in her heart with Dana Ryan.

  And she wanted nothing more than to have Dana back.

  She worked through Miaskovsky’s sonata twice before she gave up, resigned to the truth that, for the first time in her life, music was not enough to distract her from the world, and it was all she could do to not hurl her bow across the study in frustration. She rubbed the back of her right hand over her face as she slumped in her chair. It was pushing three in the morning and she was almost delirious with exhaustion, but she knew she would not be able to sleep until she talked to Dana.

  She considered, for what had to be the thirtieth time in the last two hours, just getting in her car and driving over to Brooke and Regan’s to see her, but she discarded the thought with a small shake of her head. Brooke had told her it’d be better for her to stay here, and she was just going to have to trust her judgment on that one.

  No matter how hard it was for her to sit and wait, not knowing what Dana was thinking or what all of this meant for the two of them.

  Hope and fear warred inside her, battling for control of her tempestuous thoughts. Hope that they would find a way past all of this and be able to move forward together, and fear that any chance of finding something with Dana had been doomed from the very beginning.

  And yet…

  She wanted to believe that they could.
Wanted to believe that Luke was right that day when he insisted that even villains deserved a happy ending. That maybe, just maybe, they had been fated to run across each other in that elevator. At the Children’s Hospital gala. And then again that morning at Joe’s. She wanted to believe that the thing that kept pulling them together, the thing that made Dana want to still spend time with her even after learning the truth about why she ran out on her was strong enough to survive this.

  That all of this was for a reason.

  And yet, the longer Dana stayed away, the more time passed without a word from Brooke, the harder it became for her to hold onto that hope.

  She sighed and checked the time on her phone. The lock screen showed that it was now a few minutes past two, and there was still no message from Brooke. She shook her head as she pushed herself to her feet. Dana wasn’t coming back.

  It had been foolish of her to ever to hope otherwise.

  Tears she had so far managed to resist filled her eyes as she laid her cello in the open case on the floor near the bookshelves and slipped her bow into its sleeve in the lid. She didn’t bother to try and wipe away the few that slipped free and rolled slowly down her cheeks as she turned to her bedroom. Sleep would be impossible to find, but she was just too tired to try and come up with some other way to fail at distracting herself.

  Storm had made her way into the bedroom sometime while she had been trying and failing to lose herself in her music, and she slipped carefully beneath the duvet to not disturb her. Just because she wasn’t going to be able to sleep didn’t mean she needed to steal that respite from Storm. She set her phone on the nightstand beside her pillow as she curled in on herself, knees drawn up toward her chest as if by making herself smaller she could do the same to her worries and fears.

  She stared blankly into the shadows of her room, willing her mind to just stop spinning for a few minutes. At first it seemed an impossible task, but with every breath she took, the noise inside her head quieted and her pulse slowed, bit by bit, until she was able to lose herself in the gray space between sleep and consciousness where her mind was blank while she dozed. The sound of her doorbell echoing through the house yanked her back to awareness after what seemed like only a few minutes, and when she looked at her alarm clock, she was surprised to see that she had been drifting between sleep and wakefulness for close to an hour. She threw the covers back as she swung her legs over the side of the bed, drawing a disgruntled mewl from Storm as the kitten slinked out from beneath the duvet and jumped off the bed in search of less disruptive sleeping conditions.

  There was only one person who would be ringing her bell at this time of night, and she jumped out of bed to hurry to answer the door, her loose Juilliard sleep shirt hugging her body as she ran. Her heart had lodged itself firmly in her throat by the time her hand landed on the doorknob, and she held her breath as she yanked the door open. The breath left her in a rush of relief as her eyes landed on Dana. “You came back.”

  “I did,” Dana murmured, her eyes tired and her hair ruffled from running her hands through it. She was still wearing the slacks and shirt Gwen had last seen her in, though her shirt was now untucked and the sleeves that had been rolled crisply to her elbow hung open loosely around her wrists. She took a deep breath and let it go slowly. “I’m sorry.”

  “Me too,” Gwen whispered, shaking her head as she stepped aside to wave Dana inside.

  Dana ducked her head in thanks as she stepped into the house, and Gwen swallowed thickly as she closed the door after her. She followed Dana into the living room, a leaden feeling of déjà vu slinking sickly into the pit of her stomach, and crossed her arms over her chest as she stopped beside the couch, the question she so desperately needed answered stuck on the tip of her tongue for fear that she wouldn’t like the answer she heard in response.

  “I’m sorry,” Dana said as she turned to look at Gwen, the sleeve of her shirt billowing around her wrist as she ran a hand through her hair. She blinked rapidly and shrugged. “I shouldn’t have run away like that. I just didn’t know what else to do because one second I was kissing you and then next she was here and it was just…” She blew out a rough breath. “Overwhelming.”

  “I know the feeling,” Gwen murmured.

  “Yeah.”

  “When I called Brooke after Mallory left to see if you’d gone over there or if they had any idea where you were, she said you were pretty upset.”

  Dana nodded slowly. “I was, yeah.”

  “At me?” Gwen asked hesitantly.

  “No.” Dana shook her head. “No. I was mad at myself.” She took a deep breath and let it go slowly. “I’d been wanting to kiss you like that for weeks,” she confessed softly, “but I wanted to wait until everything with Mallory was over, you know? No more complications, no cheating, no lying, just me and you with nothing to get in the way of us maybe starting something special.”

  “I know,” Gwen murmured. “I was thinking the same thing, honestly. And I tried. I did, but you’re…” She sighed, a small, wistful smile tugging at her lips. “Impossible to resist.”

  “Yes, you are,” Dana murmured affectionately. She sighed and ran a hand through her hair. “How did it go with Mallory, by the way? I know I should have asked sooner but…”

  “Brooke didn’t tell you?” When Dana shook her head, Gwen said, “It went as well as could have been expected, really. It wasn’t an easy conversation, and it certainly wasn’t fun, but she deserved to know the truth. She didn’t seem to hate me when she left, which she certainly should have, considering, and it was just a really bittersweet ending.”

  Dana bit her lip and closed the distance between them to run a gentle finger along the back of Gwen’s hand. “So what happens now?”

  Gwen turned her hand and threaded their fingers together, drawing a comfort from the fact that Dana didn’t pull away from her. “What do you want to happen?”

  “I don’t…” Dana sighed and lifted their hands to press a soft kiss to Gwen’s knuckles. “I feel like it’s wrong to say that I want to kiss you again, but that’s really what I want to do. I’ve been fighting the way I feel about you for so long and now—”

  “We don’t have to anymore,” Gwen finished for her.

  “Am I an awful person for being happy about that?” Dana asked softly.

  “I don’t think so, no.” Gwen shook her head. Mallory would certainly think so, she was sure, but she couldn’t find it in herself to worry about her any more. Not when she was finally, finally free to have what she so desperately wanted. “I feel the same way. I’m just so tired of pretending that I don’t want you. And, yeah, maybe it’s too fast, maybe it’d be more appropriate to take a little time before jumping into something with you, but I just…” She sighed. “I don’t want to spend another day pretending that I haven’t fallen for you.”

  Dana smiled and tenderly cradled Gwen’s jaw with her free hand like she had hours before. Her eyes shimmered with gentle affection as she edged closer, their joined hands trapped between them, the hand on Gwen’s cheek guiding their lips together.

  Gwen sighed as Dana hovered just out of reach, their breaths crashing together in the small space that separated them. Her pulse raced as she stared into Dana’s eyes, a delicious anticipation fluttering in her stomach as she watched the way Dana’s eyes darkened and felt the way Dana’s breath began to fall in heavy waves against her lips.

  “Oh, Gwen,” Dana breathed as she brushed the briefest of kisses across Gwen’s lips. A long, shaky breath escaped her as she pulled away, and she slipped her hand free from between their bodies so she could cradle Gwen’s face between both her hands. An awed smile tugged at her lips as she lightly caressed Gwen’s cheeks with her thumbs, her eyes dancing over Gwen’s face almost like she couldn’t believe that this was really happening. “I…” Her voice trailed off as she dusted feather-soft kiss over Gwen’s lips. “I’ve fallen for you too,” she murmured, her voice trembling with emotion, her eyes fluttering shut as she f
inally, finally closed the distance between them and captured Gwen’s lips in a slow, sweet kiss.

  Gwen wrapped her arms around Dana’s waist and pulled her closer, delighting in the way Dana responded so eagerly to her touch. The feeling of Dana’s body pressed against her own, so strong and solid and real sent a ripple of warm excitement through her body. She let her hands wander as their kisses deepened, tracing the length of Dana’s spine encouragingly with one hand while her other drifted lower, grabbing and squeezing and coaxing a positively sinful moan from Dana’s lips that made her nipples tight and her clit throb. Her pulse beat a furious, erratic rhythm in her veins as she arched into Dana, desperate to be as close to her as she possibly could. Her breath hitched in her throat when Dana’s mouth began working its way along the side of her jaw, and her head fell back in supplication at the feeling of Dana’s tongue fluttering against her throat.

  Dana nipped at Gwen’s pulse point and then soothed the spot with a wet kiss and a gentle suck, a distinctly pleased hum rumbling in her throat a the way Gwen gasped and shuddered at the sharper touch. “I can’t believe I can finally do this,” she murmured.

  “Finally,” Gwen whispered in agreement, smiling at the feeling of Dana’s nose dragging over the hinge of her jaw. She sighed as soft kisses trailed over her cheek, the tender affection that was so evident in each kiss sending an electric shiver rolling down her spine, turning her soft sigh into a throaty groan as her earlobe was sucked between plump limps to be pinched by dull teeth. Gwen’s eyes rolled back in her head at the bite, and she whimpered when Dana’s mouth moved on, pressing a string of kisses along her cheek until she reclaimed her lips in a deep, probing kiss. Knees weak and utterly breathless by the time the kisses reached their inevitable end, Gwen bit her lip and smiled as she pulled away, tilting her head toward the back of the house in an unspoken question.

  Yes, given the evening’s events, it was fast. But they had waited so long to have this again that she couldn’t find it in herself to care. Weeks of longing and desire had built to a crescendo inside her, to the point that she needed Dana almost more than she needed air to breathe.