Tracing Holland (NSB Book 2) (12 page)

Callie grins, and I swear Casey is
blushing.

“Nothing,” Callie covers quickly. “No,
we didn’t buy anything interesting. Just some clothing and stuff.”

I give them a skeptical look. “Really.
So why’s your face about to explode, Case?” I ask.

Casey glares at Callie. “You said we
wouldn’t tell anyone.”

My eyes widen as I lean forward. “Tell
anyone what? I don’t count as ‘anyone,’ do I?”

Callie is grinning so broadly I can
barely stay seated.

“Wait…No…” I breathe.

She just shrugs and leans into Casey,
taking his arm.

“You’re not…no…”

“Not officially, no. But we’ve been
talking about it. You know, one day.”

My jaw is on the floor and the warmth
returns, starting to melt the freshly frozen barrier on my soul. There is
nothing better that could be happening at this moment.

I grip the table. “Are you freaking
serious?” I whisper, and Casey returns my grin.

“Calm down, man. We’re just talking.”

“Yeah, but…”

“We may have looked at rings today just
for fun,” Callie whispers back.

Casey gives her a gentle shove, and she
giggles.

“What? Oh my…
That
’s
amazing! That’s…” I’m totally speechless. “I’m so happy!”

“Like we said, it’s not official so
don’t say anything! We’ve only been together a few months,” Casey explains. “It’s
just…I don’t know. It feels right, you know?” And I seriously think I might lose
my shit at the looks on their faces as they gaze into each other’s eyes.

“Wow, this is…this is definitely not
how I thought this conversation was going to go,” I laugh, leaning back in my
seat. “You two are so great together. I’m so happy for you, you have no idea.”

Callie’s smile fades as she searches my
eyes. “Thank you, Luke. You mean everything to us. You know that, right? No
matter what happens, it’s always the three of us against the world, got it?”

I smile and nod. “Callie Roland Straight
Talk. Got it.”

She laughs, and Casey just looks
confused.

“Huh?” he says.

“Nothing, hon. Hey! They have those
ribs you like!” she cries, pointing at the menu.

“Those ribs?”

“Yeah! The little ones with the BBQ
sauce!”

Casey casts me an amused glance.
“Um…you mean baby back ribs?”

“Yes!”

“Cal, I love you, but every place has
‘those ribs.’”

She scrunches her nose. “Not every
place!”

“Most places.”

“Ugh, fine! Anyway, you should get
them.”

Casey laughs. “Why?
Because
you
want them?
Why don’t you just
get them?”

“What if I don’t like them?”

“Then I’ll eat them.”

“What if you don’t like them?”

“You already know I do! Isn’t that what
started this conversation?”

“Oh my gosh! You’re so annoying,” she groans,
glaring back at her menu.

Casey only laughs and tucks his arm
around her shoulders. I’m freaking melting inside, and puking, but mostly
melting. They just make you think you’ve got a shot at life. Every. Single.
Time.

“What about you? How were the pools?”
Callie asks me, immediately slamming a pickax into my contentment.

I force a smile. “Great. The hot tub
was great. Didn’t do much swimming.”

She nods. “Looks like you got a little
sun. I’m glad. I worry about you and your vampire tendencies.”

I smile again, dreading the moment when
she finds out how badly I screwed things up with Holland. I’m still haunted by
it all, even though I did the right thing, the humane thing. I did what had to
be done.
For all of us.
But just when I think I’ve got
the pain under control, I remember our song, how the music brought us together
and connected us in a way I’ve never felt before, not even with Elena. I loved Elena
so much, but we didn’t share the music. I never felt my soul suck another in
like it had at that moment with Holland. I didn’t even know it was possible and
now I’m a hostage.

“You ok?” Callie asks, concerned, and I
force myself to refocus.

“Yeah, of course. Why?”

She’s still looking at me, as is Casey.
I thought it would be a good idea to be alone with them, but now I’m not so
sure.

“Your face changed. You look darker all
of a sudden.”

I laugh, but I doubt anyone believes
it. “I’m fine. Just hungry. You know what you’re getting?”

They let me off the hook, even though I
know I’ve done a terrible job covering my tracks. They don’t believe a word I’m
saying, but are willing to let it go.

“Well, I’m getting the ribs,
apparently,” Casey mutters.

Callie’s grin returns. “Yes! Thanks,
hon
! Love you.”

He rolls his eyes and closes his menu.
“Just don’t get a salad. Because if we’re switching meals, there’s no way in
hell I’m trading ribs for lettuce.”

∞∞∞

Most of the group wants to hang out at the hot tubs and
drink again that night. Since I no longer drink and would rather stab myself in
the eye than face Holland right now, I pass in favor of an evening alone with
Percy.

I love the view from my balcony and
decide to take full advantage of it while I can. Something about the moon
reflecting off the ocean appeals to me, and I stare at it for a long time,
absently strumming several progressions that have been in my head for a while.
The chords are far removed from my usual patterns, but they’re beautiful and particularly
haunting in the darkness.

I can hear the laughter from the pool
deck below and am glad they’re having such a good time. I’m not jealous of
other people’s happiness, just confused by it. I guess, deep down, I long for
it
too,
I just don’t understand it or how to let
myself accept it. Callie’s words had struck hard that day at lunch. She was
right. I do deny myself, but I don’t know how to embrace happiness when it
almost always seems to be a zero-sum game for me.
My
happiness in exchange for someone else’s misery.
I’m not doing that
anymore. I’m protecting Holland. Our song was beautiful but it shouldn’t exist
in my universe.

I close my eyes and start humming along
with the guitar. Words begin to filter in with the notes, which are becoming
clear patterns. There’s a song forming, I can sense the pieces snapping into
place in my head. My strumming becomes more deliberate, my voice stronger.

“
Guide me toward the light, I swear I’ll
follow.

Forgive me for the man I am.

Fight the hollow ghost I carry.

I’ve learned to hide the tears,

Though they still break me.

Search for me, the broken wanderer

Find me, deep within my own void

Save me, from my burning lies

Don’t believe what I am

I’m a fallen angel,

The disease you can’t understand

I’m the reason you’ve lost faith, your sin

But I’m a liar, don’t believe me,
please don’t believe me

Guide me toward the
light,
I swear
I’ll follow

Hold me
til
the hollowness is gone

These tears mean nothing in the darkness

Don’t believe what I am.

I need you to believe when I can’t

That I’m more, more than I am.
”

It’s not until I stop playing, the
waves once again filling the darkness with their chorus, that I realize the
party below is silent as well.

∞∞∞

I wake up the next morning to a slip of paper under my door.
I pick it up and try to calm my racing heart as I scan the elegant text.

You are a liar,
Luke, and a damn good one. But no one can ever believe enough for you, not
until you do. I hope you find your peace.

 
- H

Charlotte
,
North Carolina

September
20

It’s
going to be another brutal stretch: Charlotte, Richmond, and Baltimore.
Three stops in three days.
Kenneth started hyperventilating
the second we boarded the bus in Myrtle Beach, and Tess is doing her best to
keep everyone else from quitting. For my part, I’m content just lying low,
trying to survive our schedule and my own twisting brain as best I can. I
exhaust myself; I can’t imagine what it’s like for other people to deal with
me.

I’m on my way to catering to grab something to eat when I
catch a glimpse of Jesse, Limelight’s
frontman
, release
an angry curse at his phone before shoving it in his pocket. I change course
and approach him, squinting against the mid-day sun.

“Everything ok?” I ask, and Jesse seems startled, then
embarrassed.

“Oh, hey, Luke. Yeah, fine.”

I smile to disarm the moment. “You seemed pretty upset at
your phone,” I observe, and he grunts, running his hand through his
shoulder-length hair. He’s a good kid, extremely talented, but he makes Casey seem
ancient. I’d be surprised if he’s all of twenty-two. It was a huge break for
Jesse and the Limelight boys to book this tour with us, but it’s also a lot to absorb
for your first major spotlight.

Limelight was an up-and-coming local Philly band when the
Label stumbled upon them to open for our tour.
A regional
phenomenon, but relatively unknown nationally.
Not anymore. I feel for
the kid. I know how seductive instant success can be. I also know how
devastating. It nearly destroyed me, and I’ll admit, I’ve been secretly keeping
my eye on Jesse since the tour began. He has an epic voice for such a young kid
and an enviable instinct for music, but also the same doe-eyed approach to Celebrity
that almost put me in the ground. Several times.

“The Label hated my work tape,” he mutters, glaring at the pavement.
“I really thought this one had something, but they don’t even want to pursue
it.”

I sigh. “Yeah. Been there.”

He looks up again, surprised. “Wait, really? They’ve
rejected your stuff?”

I laugh. “Um, yeah. Like, all the time.”

“Seriously? They said no to Luke Craven? No way.”

I shake my head with a grin and sit on the ledge beside him.

“Ok, well, first off, I wasn’t always
Luke Craven
. I used to just be Luke Craven, some dude from some
band called Night Shifts Black.
And second of all, yeah.
They own you, man.
Mind, body, and soul.
Didn’t anyone
warn you
you
were selling your soul when you signed?”

“Hell, no,” he spits, and scrapes at a crack in the sidewalk
with his shoe. “I just wanted to play music. That’s all I ever wanted. I didn’t
know about all this other shit.”

I nod and sigh. “Yeah, that’s all any of us wanted in the
beginning. But that’s not the way it works, unfortunately. Every success comes
with a new burden of expectations. Each reward has a higher price. You keep going
until you reach the threshold of what you can afford to pay.” I smile. “Or at
least until you can afford to pay someone else to bear the brunt of it for
you.”

Jesse laughs. “Is that where you’re at?”

I smirk. “I wish.”

His smile fades as he stares off into the distance. “It’s
not what I thought. All of this,” he muses, waving his hand in front of him. “I
mean
,
it’s like this dream you have forever. And then,
bam, it happens, but it doesn’t even seem like it’s happening. You just keep
living the moment, surviving it. It’s just another day, like yesterday. I
thought there’d be magic or something when it happened. Makes you wonder if
it’s even real, you know? That sounds stupid.”

“No. It’s not stupid. I know exactly what you mean.” I
follow his distant stare as I consider my response. “Look, you have to just stop
and take a breath,” I continue, surprising myself with my sage tone. He looks
over at me, and I can see the respect in his gaze. I meet it, a sudden
protectiveness washing over me. “You have to force yourself to stop each day and
look around. Give yourself a chance to enjoy the reality of the moment because
there are no real endings, no bookmarks for your life to guide you. It just
keeps going until it’s over, and it’s up to you to pick a point in time to stop
and consider where you are.”

I pause and point at his tour bus. “See that right there?
That’s all you. You made it, Jess. You made it. So stop for a second and enjoy
your dream. Think about what you’d be doing if you weren’t here and be grateful
you are.”

He snickers. “I’d be in prison probably.”

I grin and shrug. “Me too. But that’s what I’m saying.
You’re not. You’re here. In a few hours you’re going to be paid some serious money
to do something you’d do for nothing. Forget the rest of this crap. The music
is what matters. Forget the Label, the schedule, the press, the criticism,
the
reviews. They will devour you alive if you let them. You
have to stop the avalanche each day and focus on the one truth that matters: you
have the opportunity to spend your life doing what you love. The rest is only
important to the extent that it allows you to continue doing that.”

He doesn’t respond right away, but I can see him considering
my words. No one is more surprised than I am by my speech, and I had no idea how
much I’d learned, how much I’d grown over the last few years until it came
pouring out.

“I know you’re right. I do, it’s just so hard to have your
heart shoved back at you and hear it sucks. That someone hates something you
love. It’s like people don’t think you’re real. You’re just some idea or
something, and they take pleasure in shredding you just because they can. The
worst part is, you can’t even fight back and defend yourself!”

I sigh. Yeah. If anyone can understand that…

“The more people love you, the more others will hate you. The
higher they perceive your pedestal, the more pleasure they take in knocking you
down. You’ve exposed yourself, Jesse, made yourself vulnerable. Whether you
thought about what you were doing or not, it doesn’t matter. It’s too late. By deciding
to pursue your dream, you’ve opened yourself up to the good and the bad. And
you’re right. You’re no longer Jesse Everett, the kid from Philly. You’re now a
shiny object without feelings, a punching bag for hate and other people’s
biases and issues.

“But, Jesse, it’ll break you if you let it. I’m telling you,
from personal experience, you cannot take your worth from what others think,
good or bad, because they’re not judging
you
,
they’re displaying themselves, their prejudices, their fears and hopes. All
you’ve done is trigger a reaction in them, and sometimes it’s beautiful, and
sometimes it backfires, but that doesn’t make it a statement about
who
you are. Criticism isn’t about the person who created
the art, just about how your art fits into someone else’s world.”

He closes his eyes, and I smile to myself. I’m not sure if
any of this is getting through, but I sense it is. Jesse always seemed like a
smart kid, a tough kid from the little I know about him, and I’m betting we
have a lot more in common than we even realize at this point. He’s got a story,
like so many of us, and he’s clearly a warrior. A damn talented one from what
I’ve seen.

“Can I hear what you’ve got?” I ask after a long silence. It’s
hilarious the way he tries to cover his shock as he glances over at me again.

“Really?”

I laugh. “Yeah, of course. Grab your guitar. Let’s see what
we can do.”

“Oh my…seriously? You’re serious!”

I roll my eyes. “You want to do this or not?”

∞∞∞

I’m onstage
messing with one of my amps when I sense someone’s attention. I glance up and
immediately stiffen at Holland’s crooked grin.

“Hey, stranger. Did Gary quit on you or something? Do I need
to lend you my guy this time?”

I return her smile with a shy one of my own. “Nah, I’m just
fooling around. I wanted to try something for a song I’m working on.”

“Oh, so intriguing! Do tell. Is it about a perplexing, crazy
hot rocker who sucks you in with glimpses of vulnerability then acts like a
total asshole?”

I stare at her in shock,
then
grin
when she does. I laugh and look away, praying I’m not blushing as I focus back
on my amp. And she’s not even done with me.

“Ok, so, I wasn’t sure how this works. Are we not supposed
to talk at all now? Do we have to do the awkward silence thing the rest of the
tour or what?” She lowers herself to the drum riser a few feet away. “I’m not
used to blatant rejection, so I’m not exactly sure what happens next.”

I return her grin
again,
I can’t
help it, and am terrified I actually am blushing now. “Um…I’m not used to
acting like an ass to people I care about, so I don’t know either.”

“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…”