Tracing Holland (NSB Book 2) (5 page)

∞∞∞

I’m in
a weird place as I make my way out of the building. Torn between yesterday’s
emotional reconnection with Ellie’s ghost and today’s sudden acknowledgement of
Holland, I feel the guilt mount, almost anger at my traitorous body that’s
still reacting to the effect of Holland’s penetrating, deep blue eyes. I close
my own for a moment, trying to decide what to do next. I’m not ready for the
bus and probing gazes of my friends, but I also have nowhere else to go. I kind
of feel like writing, but I don’t have anything except my phone at the moment,
so even that’s out. The weariness of the last few days is starting to catch up
with me, which isn’t helping matters.

I sigh and drop to the steps outside of a service entrance,
breathing in the warm morning air. The back of the building is alive with
activity at this hour, and I find the din of muffled voices, idling truck
engines, and crashing pallets, strangely comforting. There’s a pattern, an
order to the chaos. An organic relationship between each role and sound that
links them to each other and
their
world. Life makes
sense for these people, in this block of time. They know what to do next, how
they fit. Meanwhile, I can’t even seem to figure out the journey from breakfast
to lunch.

I shift when I hear the door open behind me so the employee
can pass, but am surprised when no movement follows. I open my eyes and squint
up, nearly flinching at the blurry silhouette leaning over me, encased in
sunlight.

“Took care of your pedal board issue already?” Holland asks
with a knowing grin. She drops beside me on the step, forcing me to adjust my
position. Her body is close, so close that I can smell the clean, fresh scent of
her hair as she brushes against me. It’s not her fault, the stairs are narrow,
and I swallow. There goes the dam on my blood again. God, it’s so annoying, and
I’m so not in the mood to deal with it.

“Just enjoying a moment of peace and silence,” I respond, trying
to sound much more relaxed than I feel.

Her gaze flickers to the line of trucks backed into the
loading docks.

“Yeah, it’s quite the sanctuary out here,” she teases. I
cast her a quick grin in spite of myself and shake my head.

I can feel her eyes as I look away again and focus on
nothing in particular.
Just as long as it’s not her.
I
don’t understand what she wants from me.

“So are you stalking me or something?” I toss casually.

“Don’t even pretend you’re not used to it.”

I smile again as she continues her assault on my sour mood, and
can’t believe I’m suddenly shy for some reason. No, I’m not used to being
stalked by Holland Drake. I have a feeling I’d never get used to that.

“Honestly, no. It’s been a while since I’ve been properly stalked.
I’ve been in hiding for a long time.”

“So I’ve heard. Lucky for you, I’m not your typical stalker.
Definitely just a gateway
fangirl
.”

I laugh and glance over at her. “A gateway
fangirl
? What does that even mean?”

“Um…I don’t know. I think it means I’d go through your
garbage, but not steal your dog or anything. I’ll have to check with your fan groups
for clarification.”

I can’t stop it, and she grins when I double over in
laughter. “Oh my god.” I wipe my eyes, drawing in a deep breath.

“You know, you’re not what I was expecting,” she blurts next,
jerking us in an entirely new direction. Nope, not a chance I ever figure out
her maze. My gaze shoots back to her at her boldness.

“Really. Well, people usually expect the worst from me, so
that’s either good news, or extraordinarily bad.”

She smiles and cocks her head a bit, studying me. “Good, I
think. Which could be bad. We’ll see.”

I’m not sure what she means by that, but I’m afraid to ask. Whatever
it is, I’m not ready for it. She’s not either, even if she doesn’t know it yet.

“It’s just that you’re intimidating, you know?” she
continues, and I let out my breath, caught off guard again. It’s like she’s
purposely trying to taunt social etiquette.

“Huh?”

She’s grinning so I know she likes throwing me off balance.
“What? Like you don’t know that about yourself? I’m the first to call you out
on the enigma thing you’ve got going?”

“I’ve never had anyone tell me that to my face, no.
Intimidating, how? Sure it’s not just you who finds me intimidating?”

I swear she blushes a bit as she shrugs, but I don’t feel
badly. She started the “smash all social barriers” game.

“No, I doubt it. You’re…I don’t know. Untouchable.”

I laugh again
,
I can’t help it
. Untouchable. Sure.
I’ve been Life’s fucking punching bag since the day I was born.

“Untouchable? What does that mean?”

It’s her turn to stare off. She’s carefully considering my
question. I can almost see the spark of intelligence, the depth, flashing
across her face as she scans the scene around us.

“What’s your middle name?” she asks finally.

I stiffen. “What? Why?”

She studies me again for a second and finally leans back
against the railing. “See? That’s exactly what I mean. That wasn’t even an
intrusive question. But your instinct forces you to defend.
To
hide.
Mine’s Elizabeth. Holland Elizabeth Drake.”

She sighs, and when her eyes change, I find myself getting
drawn in all over again. “Like I said, you’re an enigma, Luke. You’re a dark,
beautiful painting locked high on the wall behind a protective shield of glass.
We all love to approach at a safe distance, but that’s it. We admire, we stare,
we even drool, many mock and hate, but none of us can imagine trying to touch
it, to solve the mystery and get behind the glass. You wouldn’t let
us even
if we wanted to. You’re comfortable up there, out of
reach.”

I almost snort as I’m finally able to force my eyes away. “Oh
yeah? You got all that from two conversations?”

She laughs softly. “Heck, no. I got all that from hours of
listening to Callie gush about you. Our two conversations just reinforce it.”

My gaze turns to a glare as the blood starts to boil.
“Callie told you all that? She wouldn’t do that.”

She seems affected by my heated reaction. “Of course not.
She only talks about you as a friend whom she loves and respects. I read into
the rest on my own, comparing what she says in sharp contrast to your
reputation and what everyone else thinks. I trust her judgment, which means
it’s
obvious people don’t really know you.
That there’s something else going on.
Am I wrong?”

I stare into the distance again, not sure how to answer
that, but positive I don’t want to.

“Do you always just say whatever you think?” I counter instead.

She laughs. “If you think this is bad, you should hear all
the things I’m not saying right now.”

I glance over, and despite the momentary darker mood, can’t
help but crack a smile at her expression.

“Really? How intriguing.”

She shrugs, but doesn’t resist my gaze.

“Ok, fine. You want to play this game?” I challenge. “What
were you going to tell me on the bus yesterday but didn’t?”

Now, she definitely does blush and looks away. “I was right
not to say anything. It’s not going to come out any better now.”

I continue staring at her, determined to throw her off her
game as well. I can be a damn stubborn painting when I want to be. Finally, she
mutters a curse.

“Ok, ok! I was going to tell you that I don’t hook up with other
musicians, especially on tour. I just wanted you to know that up front. Nothing
personal, just a rule I have.”

My eyes widen in disbelief before bursting out laughing
again. Her audacity is so funny and so freaking hot I can’t help it. “Seriously?
You were just going to dump that on me right out of the gate? Do you start off
every relationship with that warning?”

I can tell she’s embarrassed, but amused at the same time.
“No. Only when I think my rule could be an issue for me.”

There it is again.
The sudden rush of searing
blood.
Shit. I draw in a deep breath.

She grins. She caught me, knows she got to me. “Come on,
Luke. You’re an insanely talented, walking, talking Greek god bad boy. You even
have the sexy accent, tortured soul thing going on. Is there a woman on this
planet who could resist you if you wanted her?”

I smirk to hide my own reaction to her words, and tear my
eyes away from her. “I can name a few.”

“Besides Callie,” she laughs. “And let’s face it, Casey Barrett
isn’t exactly far off himself.”

I grin and shake my head. “I’ll tell him you said that.”

“You better not. I love Callie. She’d kill me.”

“No she wouldn’t. She’d laugh and tell you you’re absolutely
right. Then thank you for noticing and ask if you wanted some tea.”

Holland chuckles. “She would. It’s true.” She quiets.
“Anyway, sorry if this is just making things more awkward. I just…I don’t know.
Life’s too short to play games with people. I like to be open and just put the
truth out there. How else can we deal with it and know where we stand? Our
world is complicated enough. Why not simplify what we can actually control?”

I don’t look at her this time. She may feel that way, but
it’s so far from where I’m at that I don’t even know how to respond.

“Does that approach work for you?” I manage finally.

Her eyes are on me. I can feel her tracing me, and I’m
afraid to look. I’m terrified of what her gaze does to me.

“Does deflecting work for you?”

I instinctively glance at her now and still. She doesn’t let
me look away this time. She’s searching for something but I have no idea what.
I doubt she’ll find it, whatever it is. God knows there’s not much left to
find.

“Usually it works pretty well,” I respond.

She nods,
then
softens. “Well, it
won’t with me, Luke,” she explains gently, pulling herself to her feet. “I’m
just warning you. I have no idea if we can be friends or not, but you should
know that I don’t believe in bullshit. I guess that should have been my warning
yesterday instead.”

And with that, I’m alone again on the steps, staring at a
line of rumbling delivery trucks, breathing in warm late-summer air, wondering
what the hell just happened.

∞∞∞

I decide
I want to run my own sound check today. My strange conversation with Holland still
has me off balance into the afternoon, and I need to reset before tonight.
Besides, I never did get my writing time in, and I could use some relaxed
creativity. Casey agrees, and even Eli and Sweeny reluctantly follow when I
tell them I have a new song I want to work on. Callie is parked in the front
row, her encouraging smile beaming off her face as she waits patiently for us
to get our shit together.

“Is this the butterfly song?” Casey asks as we settle into
our positions.

I can see Eli and Sweeny nearly choke. “Wait, what? You get
clean and suddenly we’re doing butterflies?”

I shoot Casey an annoyed look. “Can you not call it the
butterfly song?”

He shrugs. “What? Ok, fine. But that’s what it’s about,
right?”

“No. It’s about metamorphosis. Working title is ‘Metamorphosis.’”

“So butterflies.”

I roll my eyes and can hear Callie laughing from her seat. “It’s
ok, Luke! I love butterflies!” she shouts up to us. “So do all your teen girl
groupies! You just need a four-part harmony and coordinated dance to go with it!”

“It’s not about fucking butterflies!” I cry in exasperation,
even as I shake my head with a grin.

“Don’t get mad! I’m just saying, is there a butterfly in it
or not?” Casey asks, and I almost throw my guitar at him.

“Not anymore!” I hiss, and he laughs.

“Ok, ok! Sorry! Go for it. We’ll shut up. We’re ready.”

I turn back to the
mic
and draw in
a deep breath. I grip my guitar pick firmly in my right hand, my left hand
positioned for a B minor chord. I wrote this one in D, but I’m thinking I might
need to raise it to E. It’s not exactly an essential detail at the moment, but
suddenly it’s all I can think about. Maybe I should just play it in E for their
first listening. The higher key will give the chorus more energy, more power.
Yes, E. But shit, if I do it in E, I have to raise the bridge too. Not sure I
can hit that in E. I should have practiced this more. What was I thinking
exposing it so early? I haven’t played it for anyone except Casey, and that was
so early he won’t even recognize it.

My hands are sweating, heart racing.
Bm
,
A, D. No, maybe I should go to the 4 instead.
A solid G back
into the 6.
Dammit. I haven’t played anything original since…god, I
don’t know when. Breathe. I’ve been doing this my whole life.
No, not my whole life.
Not at all since I became something
else, someone else. What if my music was in the darkness, the filth? I have no
way of knowing if I can trust what comes out now.