Tracing Holland (NSB Book 2) (11 page)

I can feel her grin. “Maybe.” Then she
grows serious again. “Ok, so now you’re what, thirteen, fourteen?
And in Houston with your aunt.
Tell me about the music.”

“The music, huh.”

“It’s in you, Luke. Deeply embedded
like no one I’ve ever met. I’ve seen it a couple times now. It takes my breath
away. Do you not get what it does to people when they witness it?”

I stare at the palm trees lining the pool
area as I consider her words, strangely touched, uneasy. “The music…” I repeat
to myself. Facts I can do.

“Ok, well, I guess it started with my
dad actually. He was a musician. He knew he was dying and gave me his guitar.
He told me it was so that I’d take care of it, but I always knew it was
supposed to be a lifeline for me to hold onto after he was gone.” I quiet, my
chest getting heavy again. I close my eyes and draw in a deep breath. “He knew
what would happen next,” I continue quietly. “He fought as hard as he could for
as long as he could. Somehow, even as a kid I sensed he didn’t want to leave me
alone with her.” I stop again. I can’t do any more with that part and draw in a
ragged breath before I lose myself. I only agreed to facts. “Anyway, so yeah.
It was just
me and my guitar
most days. When I was
scared, lonely, hungry, in pain, Percy was always there, pulling my head back
above water. I guess that’s where the music came from.”

“Percy?” she asks. I glance over at the
wavering in her voice and now I’m certain I can see a glisten in her eyes.

I swallow and quickly look away. “Yeah,
I named my guitar Percy. I have no idea why. It was my best friend, often my
only one. Too important not to have a name, I guess.”

She nestles closer, and I can feel my
own guard slipping. I’m not crying in front of her. It’s not going to happen.

“What? You’ve never named one of your
instruments?” I ask before I get lost back in that horrible place.

She chuckles. “No, but I am now. I
think my guitar would be Sam.”

I grin. “Sam? Boy Sam or girl Sam?”

“I don’t know. It doesn’t matter.
That’s why I like Sam.”

“Ok, that’s fair. Sam it is.”

“Where’s Percy now?” she asks.

“In my room.”

She pulls away again, and I love the
look on her face. “Really? You still have him?”

I laugh. “Of course. He goes with me
everywhere.”

“I want to meet him!” she cries.

My eyes widen in disbelief. “What, like
right now?”

“Yes! Right now! You need to introduce
us!” She jumps up from the seat and moves toward the stairs. “Come on!”

It’s all so funny, so sweet, I can’t
even argue with her. “Ok! Geez. I’m coming.”

She tosses a towel at me as I reach the
deck, and this time doesn’t even pretend not to study me as I dry off. It’s
fine. I’ve given up pretending
I’m not captivated by her
.

“God, you’re pretty much perfect,
aren’t you,” she mutters, and I glance at her,
then
laugh.

“Um…did you not hear a word I just
said? I’m a fucking disaster.”

She doesn’t smile, which surprises me.
“Maybe, but we’re all disasters. Perfection is finding that one disaster that
makes sense with yours.”

I don’t know what to do with that.
She’s confusing me again with her maddening push and pull. “I thought we agreed
my particular disaster wasn’t good for anyone.”

It comes out more bitter than I
intended, but her “honesty” is starting to grate on me. We can’t be together.
Got it. So then why are we still pretending? Why is she still sending these
cryptic signals? And why the hell is she looking at me like she wants to shove
me against the wall and rip my shorts off? My pulse is attacking my will again.

“I’m sorry. You’re right. I’m not being
fair,” she admits quietly, and I feel badly for hurting her. She wasn’t being
fair, but I can tell she truly understands her offence and regrets her lack of
control. The thing is, I understand it. I can’t control myself around her
either. We’re playing with fire, we both know it, and we’re both dangerously
addicted. It’s all right there in the pulsating tension between us. The looks,
the stolen touches,
the
simmering flame just waiting
for us to show weakness and explode into something we can’t restrain.

“Look, maybe we should just cancel this
whole ‘friends’ thing,” I say after a long pause. Her eyes shoot to mine, and I
soften. “I just don’t know how to be friends with you, Holland. And I think
you’re having the same problem.”

“Luke…”

I give her a sad smile and sling the
towel over my shoulder. “I’m not upset. I have complete respect for you and
your rules. I even agree with them. I’m not sure I’m ready for a relationship
anyway. I may never be, and even if I was, no one would be ready for one with
me.”

“Luke…stop…”

“No, it’s ok. Seriously, thanks for the
time we’ve had. It really has been amazing, but we’re not helping ourselves by
doing this.” I start toward the door of the building.

“Luke!”

I know I owe her a chance to speak as
well, but I don’t think I can handle it. She has this way of cutting through my
walls, and I need them as strong as possible right now. I keep going.

“Luke, please! Just stop for one
second!”

I close my eyes. I can’t, can I? But
god, I want to so badly.

I sigh and turn, immediately regretting
it. She’s there, inches away.

“No,” she says. “No, it’s not ok.” And her
lips collide with mine.

My body erupts in an immediate rush of fire
I know I’ll never contain. I let her push me back against the wall of the pool
deck, her fingers locked in my hair, mine in hers, pulling ourselves into each
other. I can feel my skin absorbing hers with a desperation that’s knocking the
air from our lungs. Minutes, hours, days of starvation explode on us, finally
unleashing that reckless exploration of the forbidden. Our mouths, our hands, fight
for every inch they can control, struggling to connect in an impossible union that
will lead to the one place we both agreed we can’t go. We won’t go.

And suddenly, I’m terrified. How much
of this is
her
? Me? How much is my need to be close to
someone again?
Her getting sucked into my deadly vortex?
How much am I going to destroy her when this all crashes down?
Because it will.
It’s going to crash so hard and I’m going
to have another victim I care about on my conscience.

I groan and push her away. “Stop!
Wait.” My body is screaming. It’s never going to forgive me for this. I can see
the hunger in her eyes as well, just ravaging us as we stare, breathing hard.

“This isn’t what you really want,” I
whisper, searching her eyes with an anguish she returns.

“It is, Luke. I do. Please.” Her lips
find mine again, her fingers sliding down my chest, circling my waist in a grip
that sends my blood pounding to every cell, every recess of my being. She’s tugging
at my suit now, lower, oh god. She’s so
close,
I know
she can feel every hard inch of how much I want her too. She positions herself
perfectly to invite it all, and I swear I hear the slightest groan as she pulls
my hips into hers in an impossible invitation. Her intoxicating form is totally
surrendered, her mouth denying me any arguments as she breathes me in. I’m
going to lose if I don’t stop this. We both will. Oh shit. A couple years ago I
wouldn’t have thought twice and now…

It takes every ounce of self-hatred I
have left to force her hands away and gently push her back. “No. No!” I search
her eyes. “You’re about to hook up with me. You don’t hook up with musicians,
especially on tour!”

She shakes her head and closes the gap
again, taking my face in her hands. “I know, but I don’t care about the rules
anymore. The rules are bullshit!”

I flinch and pull away. “No, they’re
not! They’re important to you! And they’re good! So good… Don’t you see what’s
happening? This is what I do to people, Holland! This is how I hurt them! I
infect them and turn them against themselves! I’m not doing it anymore! I’m not
doing it to you!”

I know she’s hurt, but I’m completely
gutted as I remove her hands from me and launch toward the lobby. This time,
I’m running from myself as much as her.

“Luke, stop! Wait!”

She’s coming after me, but I don’t
stop. I can’t. I’m not strong enough to keep fighting this. I frantically press
the button to the elevator, but of course it doesn’t open in time to rescue us
from this mess. She catches up just in time to jump in with me.

“We’re talking about this,” she states
firmly. “You wanted that as much as I did. You still do. I know you do!”

I shake my head. “There’s nothing else
to say.” I barely even notice the chill of the air conditioning on my wet body
as the ice inside starts to spread to the surface. I can feel it begin to calm
the fire, dissolve the warmth. I’m able to shutdown better than anyone.

“So what, you’re just going to deny
what’s happening between us?”

“No, I’m going to ignore it,” I quip.

 
“What? How can you possibly ignore what
just happened?”

I only shrug, knowing it’ll upset her.
She curses and throws up her hands. “Seriously? God, you’re infuriating!”

I study the light moving over each
number above the door. One… Two... Three.

“Again, as advertised, right?”

She’s about to explode as she turns on
me. “No! That’s bullshit and you know it! You’re scared! You’re scared because
I mean something to you! Because I got behind your glass barrier, didn’t I?
Because our connection is more than sex and you have no clue what to do with
that!”

“Yep, that’s it. I’m scared. So
original, Holland.” God, what a dick thing to say, but I need her to hate me.
I’ll never be strong enough to push her away if she doesn’t.

Her glare turns hostile, and I wonder
if she’s actually going to hit me. She doesn’t, but her eyes do it for her.

“Wes is a better match for you anyway.
You should stalk him instead,” I continue for good measure. It works, and this
time I can see her visibly shake in anger.

“Excuse me?”

I offer a casual shrug. “I mean
,
it’s obvious there’s something going on there. I bet he
doesn’t come with the same baggage. Does your rule apply to your own band?”

“You have no idea what the hell you’re
talking about!”

“No? Come on, Holland. You’re lying to
yourself if you can’t see your guitar player has it bad for you. He’s doing
everything he can to keep me away from you.”

Fire burns in her eyes. “Oh, because
you know us so damn well? Like I said, you have no idea what you’re talking
about! Is that what this is about? Wes?”

The elevator arrives at our floor and I
get out. She follows, but I don’t stop.

“No, this is about us,” I call back with
a devastating nonchalance. I’ve always been a master at channeling my uncanny ability
to read people into the ability to cut them with precision. “You’re the one who
told me out of the gate it can’t happen. I’m just respecting your wishes.”

I pull my key out and slide it into my
door. But instead of the rage I expect, she softens, her face covered with her sudden
desperate plea for me. I can’t look. Oh god, I can’t look.

“Luke, come on! I know whatever this is
right now isn’t real! I know this isn’t you!”

“Oh, it’s real,” I lie. “I thought you
did your research.”

“No! It’s not! I saw you yesterday with
those kids! Your smile! The music! I saw what…”

She takes a step toward my door, and I
slam it shut.

“Luke!” she cries, pounding once in
frustration. “You asshole!” The wounded tears in her voice are wrecking me.
“You’re a fucking asshole, you know that
?!
”

Yes. I know that.

I slide to the floor, head on my knees,
and completely shatter.

∞∞∞

I’m functional again by dinnertime, but have no interest in
seeing Holland or Wes. I return Callie’s text letting me know they’re back from
the outlets, and ask if they want to go out with just the three of us. I miss
our time together.
Callie, Casey, me.
Those few months
in my suite were some of the best of my life, and a huge reason why I’m even here
to miss them. I need them right now. I need to be just the three of us again.

Callie writes back that they’re fine
with my plan, and an hour later we find ourselves at a steakhouse. Supposedly,
this place is a must for anyone visiting Myrtle Beach, and I like the atmosphere
the second we step inside. It’s upscale, but still laidback in its own way, and
we’re seated fairly quickly. We don’t seem to be recognized, which I
appreciate. It was a rough day and I’m in the mood to disappear.

“Find anything good at the outlets?” I
ask, after we’re seated and have placed our drink orders. Casey and Callie
exchange a look, and I fold my arms. “What?”