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Tracing Holland (NSB Book 2)

Page 11

by Alyson Santos


  “Ok, really? Really… ‘Cause there was definitely a stunning display of asshole expertise there.”

  I laugh again and shake my head, trying to focus, but know there’s no chance of that with Holland Drake in my line of sight.

  “Well, it is a learned art-form, I’m not gonna lie. I’d teach you, but I doubt you could pull it off.”

  It’s her turn to snicker, and we connect with a quick glance before both looking away. I don’t know if this is awkward, but it’s not hostile, and that’s more than I ever could have hoped for after the way I acted.

  “I heard you the other night. On your balcony,” she continues.

  I swallow, but don’t look up. “Yeah? I figured, based on your note.”

  “You got it then,” she observes.

  “Yep.”

  Silence. I can feel her amusement. “That’s it? ‘Yep’?”

  I meet her gaze again. “Yes. Yes, I got it.”

  She stares at me in disbelief, and finally grins when I do. “You’re ridiculous, you know that?”

  I smile. “Sometimes. And thanks, Holland. Really. Your note meant a lot.” I don’t need to tell her I stuffed it in my pocket and actually have it on me now. That I’ve read it about a hundred times and it still stirs something deep inside that scares the crap out of me.

  She shrugs and settles back into her seat. “You’re welcome. I meant it, you know. I keep thinking about what happened, and I understand it all I think. I understand you. I know what you’re doing. Why you push people away.”

  I turn back to my amp. It’s a lot safer than the look on her face. “Yeah?”

  “Yeah. You think you’re protecting us or something. From yourself.”

  It takes everything in me not to react. “If that’s really true, I’d highly recommend letting me do that,” I say quietly, desperately hoping this amp can counteract the effect of her presence. I’m not optimistic.

  “I saw you with Jesse, too. You two looked intense, so I’m guessing you were talking him through something.”

  “I’m not surprised since you stalk me, apparently.”

  She laughs, and I offer a quick smile before turning away again.

  “I’m just saying, you really suck at being a dick. I mean, like really bad.”

  I laugh again, resting my forehead on the amp for a second before glancing back at her. “Yeah? Well, I used to be a lot better at it.”

  “So I’ve heard. Research and all that.”

  I shrug. She grows serious and studies me.

  “Look, I’m sorry about what happened at the pool. I get it, I do. And I agree, we shouldn’t have hooked up, even if you could have been a big boy in how you communicated your feelings instead of acting like a total ass. But I don’t buy your final stance for one second. I do think we can be friends. In fact, I think we have to be in order to finish this tour, and I want to make it work. Can we do that? I promise, no sex until you’re ready, darling.”

  “Oh my god,” I laugh, amused, warmed, challenged, all at once. This woman... I shake my head. She’s freaking amazing. There’s no other explanation. “Of course. I’m sorry, too. Whether I was an effective dick or not, I shouldn’t have tried, and I’m sorry. We’ll make the friend thing work.”

  She slaps her knees before rising. “Ok, good. Oh, and one more thing. I want to steal some of that new bridge we did for ‘Perfect Storm,’ if you don’t mind. Those incidentals you threw in and the extra couple lines after the verse were sick.”

  I grin. “Sure. But only if you let me come out for a cameo when you do it.”

  Her eyes widen, and I love that I’m finally able to shock her in a good way. “Wait, what? Are you serious?”

  I shrug. “Yeah, I’d love to do ‘Perfect Storm’ with you on stage.”

  “No freakin’ way!”

  I can’t help but laugh. “Well, I mean, they’re my incidentals so you owe me…”

  “I owe you? Are you kidding me? Thank you! Luke…thank you!”

  I can tell she’s about to hug me, but thinks better of it. I’m glad because I’m not ready for that fight again either.

  “How about tonight?” I suggest.

  “Wait, tonight?”

  I shrug. “Sure. Let’s run it during your sound check.”

  She looks ready to explode with excitement and I wish I could capture everything about that moment. It’s an amazing feeling. We’re both happy at the same time. Who would have thought? Two separate conversations today, two different people, three grinning faces at the end. My vortex may cause pain, but maybe it can also do something else. I have no idea what to do with that thought.

  “Just text me when you’re ready,” I say. “I’m gonna go grab a bite before they shut down catering. Kenneth will flip if I miss it.”

  ∞∞∞

  Tracing Holland launches into the intro for “Perfect Storm,” and the crowd absolutely explodes when I step out on stage. Holland and I exchange a grin before she makes a dramatic show of turning the lead mic over to me, complete with a playful bow.

  I accept it with one of my own as she moves to another vocal mic without even missing a note on her guitar. We had decided that I wouldn’t play along at tonight’s show, although we want to do an acoustic version at a later date with both of us playing and singing. For now, I use all my energy and star-power to boost Tracing Holland into the stratosphere. I know this collaboration is going to be talked about, and love that I can use my influence for her benefit.

  We brought the key down so I could sing lead, and Holland’s voice once again captivates me with its wicked tone and razor-sharp harmonies. It’s like we’ve been singing together for years, and I’m even able to ignore the tangible tension with Wes who’s forced to stand behind me. I know he’s despising every minute of this, every echo of the crowd’s adulation for a duet that should not be happening. He didn’t say a word during the sound check, and I was certain Holland must have warned him ahead of time, only because he didn’t punch me in the face when I showed up. Even now, I’d expected the rush of the stage, or at the very least, a microscopic level of professionalism to mask his hatred, but no such luck. I make a point not to turn around again after one glimpse of his harsh glare four measures into the song.

  “Luke Craven, everyone!” Holland cries into the mic as the final notes ring out to a symphony of wild cheering. I give Holland a quick hug before waving to the crowd and offering a slight bow. Then, I return the stage to her and try to think of a moment when I’ve ever felt better about being Luke Craven.

  ∞∞∞

  My joy doesn’t last long. Casey and I come down off our high from the night’s performance with an abrupt bombshell about Callie. She’s not waiting for us backstage like usual, and I glance over at Casey who’s scanning his phone with a dark expression.

  “Shit!” he mutters.

  “What is it? Where’s Callie?” I ask, my heart slamming against my chest.

  “On the bus,” Casey answers, still glaring at his phone. I can see the fire in his eyes, sense the heat radiating from him. There’s only one thing that makes him burn with that kind of fury: righteous anger. Injury to those he loves. I draw in a deep breath.

  “What happened?”

  The phone is now at his ear, and he holds up a finger to silence me for a second as he begins talking.

  “Hey, Cal. Yeah, I got your messages. I saw. I know. I know, babe, I do. We just finished up. I’ll be right there. It’s gonna be ok. I know. Love you. I’ll be right there.”

  He hangs up and meets my gaze.

  “They dug up that damn grocery store story,” Casey hisses. “You know, the lawsuit against her douchebag boss? It’s all over the place…Dammit!”

  “Oh shit,” I reply, my stomach dropping. “How’s she taking it?”

  Casey shakes his head. “She’s really upset. I saw some of the stuff they’re saying. It’s brutal, Luke,” he whispers, looking back at me. “She doesn’t deserve this bullshit.” He runs his ha
nd over his face. “Dammit, this is all my fault! They’re only going after her because she’s with me.”

  “Whoa, hang on,” I interrupt. “Don’t even start with that, Case. Do you honestly think Callie would change anything that’s happened? That she’d trade you for a little privacy? Please. That girl loves you with all her heart, and you love her. This is nothing compared to the power of what you two have. We knew this would happen eventually. It always does. She knew the risks. Remember the chair mess?”

  He curses again, and I know right then I’d do anything to fix this for them.

  “No, I know,” he says quietly, resignation clear in his voice. “I just hate this. It rips my heart out to see her hurt. Especially since you know this is only because she’s dating me.”

  “Yeah, and because she’s dating you, she has an amazing boyfriend she loves, a career, and a life most people would kill for.” I place my hand on his shoulder and we exchange a solid glance. “Go be with her. Let me worry about the rest.”

  “What do you mean? What are you going to do?”

  I suck in my breath. “I don’t know yet, but don’t worry about it. You worry about her right now, ok?”

  “Luke, what are you going to do?”

  I can’t look at him. “Nothing. There’s still a few hours before we roll out. I’m just gonna go think for a second.”

  I sense he’s still concerned, but lets it go. He’s more worried about Callie, as I want him to be.

  “Come back with me. I’m sure Callie would love your support right now, too.”

  I force a smile. “I’ll be there. She needs you first, though. Go be with her. I’ll follow in a minute.”

  ∞∞∞

  My heart breaks even more when I board the bus. I can hear her crying in the back lounge where she’s locked herself with Casey. My “thinking” turned out to be less fruitful than I’d hoped, but I’m still not ready to give up. I’m not exactly sure how to fight this, and hope something will come to me when I see her.

  I notice Eli and Sweeny are already in their bunks, no doubt respecting Callie’s privacy by pretending to sleep. My stakes are higher, however, and I’m not about to give her space right now. Not when she saved my life by butting into my nightmare.

  I knock on the partition and the quiet murmuring stops. “It’s Luke. Can I come in?”

  I wait for a moment, wondering if they’ll accept my role, and am relieved when the partition opens. I’m devastated at the look on Callie’s face, her red eyes and tear-stained cheeks just tearing at my soul.

  I close the partition again and lower myself to her other side on the couch.

  “Casey told you,” she whispers.

  I nod. “He did.”

  I don’t ask if she’s ok. I know she’s not. I always hated that question.

  “Luke, it’s bad,” she whispers, staring at me, completely haunted. “They’re saying we did it for the money. They’re making him look like the victim! It’s happening all over again!” She presses her palms against her eyes, and Casey wraps his arms around her. “This is why I left Shelteron in the first place!”

  Casey and I exchange a glance over her shoulder, and I can feel the rage building. Casey isn’t wired for rage like I am. He’s built to be a pillar. I’m a freaking landmine, and I know there’s no way we’re leaving Charlotte before it explodes. I watch them in silence for a bit, my insides shredding at Callie’s pain, but I have no idea what to say. I would do anything to make it stop, which only fuels the wrath at how helpless I feel. I’m not good at the talking part. I act, usually rashly, and in a way that gets me in trouble.

  But, I just can’t take it anymore. The sound of her tears is destroying me. I have no choice.

  “Let me make some calls,” I mutter, rising from the couch.

  “What? What are you going to do?” Casey asks, glancing at me in surprise.

  I suck in my breath. “I don’t know. I’ll be back later.”

  “Luke, what are you going to do? Where are you going?”

  I can’t look at him, at either of them, as I move from the room. “Nothing. Stop worrying. Just gonna get some air and make a few calls,” I lie.

  I sense he knows I’m lying, but I will die before letting him bear the burden of what I’m about to do.

  “I love you, Callie,” I say gently.

  She glances up and melts my heart with a weak smile through her tears.

  “I love you, too, Luke. Thank you.”

  I swallow and try not to choke as I close the partition.

  Richmond, Virginia

  September 21

  The bigger news doesn’t break until Richmond. At least, it doesn’t hit our circle until 1:48PM EST. I get the angry call I’d been expecting first, and have no choice but to absorb the livid tirade from the conference room of the Label’s headquarters. They don’t understand why I’d screw everything up after all the patience and support they’ve shown me. Why I’d embarrass them, myself, everyone, just as we were starting to get our groove back. They’re not going to fire me, we both know they can’t, and I’m not sure why they even bother covering that point, except maybe to give themselves a segue into the part where they’re extremely disappointed and hope I understand what a grand fuck up I am.

  The truth isn’t exactly an option so I take it all in silence. Apologizing a few times, smarting from the blows I can’t defend.

  The phone call is easy compared to Casey and Callie’s reactions.

  “I don’t understand! Why would you do this? Is it because of me?” Callie cries, horrified, angry. Casey looks about the same as they confront me outside the bus just as I’m returning from the brutal lashing by the Label.

  My stomach is already in knots and I try to brace myself, but I’m not sure how much more I can take. I can see the disappointment on their faces, the questions, the betrayal. I’d been prepared for it all, just not for how much it would hurt. I hadn’t realized I’d changed so much, that I actually cared enough about other people for their rejection to injure me. Apparently, feelings are actually real, and I have way more than I’d thought.

  “No, of course not,” I defend. “I don’t know. I just …” I’m not sure how to finish that sentence. I’m so tired of lying. I’m just exhausted in general.

  “So what, you decided to ‘fix it all’ by partying? By throwing everything away, all that we’ve been fighting for?”

  I’ve never seen Callie so angry.

  Casey looks ready to outright punch me. “I can’t believe you! Callie needed you last night and you go out and get wasted? What the hell is wrong with you?” Casey hisses, and I can barely breathe.

  When the news broke about my wild slipup last night, it broke violently. Callie’s grocery assault faded almost instantly as the photos of me partying hard at a nightclub seemed to grace every entertainment website and news outlet known to humanity. The pictures pretty much speak for themselves, which comes as a relief since I don’t have any other words right now.

  “I’m sorry,” I say quietly.

  “You’re sorry? What do you mean you’re sorry? Luke, stop! At least talk to us! Make us understand!” Callie calls after me as I flee back toward the safety of the cavernous venue. There’s no way I’m letting them trap me on the bus right now. I can hear Casey curse as I disappear into the building.

  ∞∞∞

  I try to avoid them all as much as possible, but apparently that doesn’t amount to much in this latest nightmare. There’s nowhere to hide. Not today, anyway, and it just keeps getting worse.

  “The blonde on the left was cute,” Holland quips as she passes me during my solitary journey to catering. “Not into the games, huh? Guess that just applies to beach games.”

  I glance at her briefly, my stomach constricting in a painful ache. Holland…I hadn’t thought of her when I did it. Dammit! My impulse doesn’t think. It just acts and leaves the consequences for my brain to sort out. That wasn’t a problem when I didn’t have a conscience. When I
didn’t have feelings. Poor choices work fine when you’re numb. Now, it’s crushing me.

  I don’t know how to respond. There are no words. I can’t tell her the truth. No one can know. Not yet anyway. Not until Callie is safe. It’s too soon.

  Holland’s not retreating as fast as she should be. She’s hoping I answer her challenge. I don’t know if she wants me to defend myself or fire back at her, but I can’t bring myself to do either.

  “You know what’s funny, Luke? Since the day we met, I thought I was on to you. I thought I saw this good in you that you don’t seem to want to acknowledge in yourself. Even now, I can still see something hiding in there, and yet, I’m starting to get it now. Like, really get it. It doesn’t matter, does it? It doesn’t matter if there’s a light locked inside somewhere, because you will never let it shine. You will never let it out and you know it. That’s why you pushed me away, why you push everyone away. Because that light is buried so deep, and terrifies you so much, that you’d rather just bask in the darkness by yourself than deal with how hard it is to fight for who you could be.”

  I can’t move. I’m completely paralyzed as I stare at her. Her words have annihilated me. Her resignation. This is it. She’s finally giving up for good. I’ve officially lost her.

  “Thanks for not sucking me into your ‘disaster,’ I guess,” she mumbles, but the pain in her expression betrays her. “I definitely didn’t want to be ‘blonde number three’ in that photo. Kind of embarrassed I almost was.”

  I flinch, stung by the blow, but manage to wait until she disappears to completely dissolve into the shadows. I’m no longer worried about food. There’s no way I’d be able to eat now anyway.

  ∞∞∞

  Despite the drama and tension behind the scenes, we put on a good show in Richmond. We’re professionals, and I doubt there’s a single audience member who knows how torn up I am inside. I can hide in plain sight better than any person on this planet.

 

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