by R. C. Martin
“I’m game,” says Derrick as he stands, tossing his sticks into his vacated chair.
Just then, the door opens and Gabe pops his head in. “Come on, fuckers, what’s the hold up?”
“We’re coming. Shit,” Knox mutters as he grabs his jacket and makes his exit.
I watch as everyone files out of the bus, not at all interested in joining them. I grab JJ’s tablet, intent on working on the hook of the song they’ve all abandoned for the night.
“Sage? Aren’t you coming?” asks Alex.
“Nah,” I reply, offering her a half smile. “Don’t feel like drinking right now. Besides, I’d probably just get pissed and try throwing a swing or two at Clay. Asshole.”
She forces a smile, takes a reluctant step to the door, and then turns back. “I know you’re sad—but you’re missing half the fun, Sage.”
I stare at her, knowing that she’s right—too numb to give a shit.
“Lex, babe, you comin’?” asks Adrian, climbing through the door.
I look between the two of them before my gaze settles on Lex. “Better go.”
She nods as she turns to leave, pausing once more on the last step leading out. “Call if you need anything, okay?”
I offer her no more than a chin lift, certain that I won’t call, and then they’re gone.
MONDAY AFTERNOON, after a restless morning spent reading, I decide to indulge in a grilled cheese sandwich. I don’t read into why I’m craving my go-to comfort food. I also actively combat memories of the last time I had one and the man who made it for me.
I’ve pulled out all the necessary ingredients and I’m getting ready to turn the stove top on when a knock at the door interrupts me. I scowl, wondering how this could be happening to me again. I’m not a woman who attracts the kind of friends who just drop by to say hello; and knowing that Sarah left for her all day shift at Little Bird, I can’t even blame the intrusion on the possibility that she’s forgotten her keys.
I turn off the stove before making my way to the door, feeling oddly unsurprised to see Violet standing at the threshold, and flat-out startled to see Rosemary in her company. She looks so much like her brother—piercing blue eyes, gorgeous, long, dark hair, and the perfect light olive tone skin—it pains me a little to look at her.
“You were totally right,” she says resolutely, eyeing me sympathetically.
I know without even asking that she’s not speaking to me, and I look to Violet for some sort of explanation.
“I know, right?”
“I don’t even know you that well, and I can see it in just one glance.”
This time Rose is speaking to me, and yet I have no idea what she’s talking about.
“Excuse me? I don’t—I don’t understand. What are you doing here?”
“Okay, here’s the deal,” says Violet, walking around me and inviting herself into my unit.
Rose smiles at me apprehensively, clearly less certain as to whether or not she should come inside uninvited. Nevertheless, as Violet continues speaking, Rosemary gently turns me around and eases me in before shutting the door behind us.
“I wasn’t going to say anything. I was going to wait until you were ready to talk about it—but then I got to thinking, that’s just bullshit,” she says with a shrug.
I open my mouth to respond—with what words? I’m not sure—but she continues speaking before I can.
“You are miserable. He is miserable. Actually, the way I heard it, he’s a pain in the ass. Brooding and short tempered and a total stick in the mud.” She removes her coat, throwing it over the back of my couch, revealing her Jo-Jo’s Pizza t-shirt. For a moment, I wonder if she’s just coming from work; but then she starts up again, regaining my attention. “I guess, on the bright side—which is very dimly lit, might I add—he’s writing some pretty sick shit. However, you aren’t writing sick shit. You aren’t even reading sick shit. You’re just reading old shit, which I’m sure is doing little to improve the state of your heart. So, it’s been decided.”
I reach up and bury my fingers in my hair, completely lost and a bit overwhelmed by her monologue.
“Violet—what are you talking about?”
“We’re staging an intervention,” says Rose. She flashes me a knowing grin as she stands beside Violet.
“An intervention?” I mutter, my hands dropping to my sides.
“Violet and I were going to fly out to L.A. to meet up with the band. They know about Vi’s visit, but I was going to surprise Sage and bring Maestro. Now there’s been a change of plans.”
“Okay,” I reply, shaking my head at them, still unsure what this has to do with me.
“I’m giving you my plane ticket, Millie. You’re going to L.A. tomorrow.”
“No I’m not,” I state declaratively.
“Yes—yes, you are.”
“No,” I repeat, folding my arms across my chest, ignoring the way my heart races at the thought of seeing Sage so soon. “Sage and I are—we’re on a break.”
“You’ve got really great posture, did you know that?” asks Rosemary, throwing me for a loop.
“What?”
“The first time I saw you, well, the first time I sort of saw you, you were in an unfortunate state. The second time—well, um—” She pauses for a moment, a blush heating her cheeks, and I seal my eyes closed until she continues. “I mean, the third time I saw you and actually met you—I remember thinking that you were really pretty, and it wasn’t just your face and your hair and that killer dress. You had an air about you, and I took one look at you and thought—wow, now I know what my brother has been talking about. And you have really great posture.”
I think the polite thing to do in this moment would be to thank her, but I can’t find my voice. I’m too distracted trying to figure out what the fuck she’s talking about!
“Right now, you’ve got horrible posture,” she says, pointing at me. “You look like you’re carrying the weight of the world on your shoulders. You look like a vague recollection of the woman I met all those weeks ago, in that kick-ass green dress I still haven’t forgotten. That’s why you’re getting on a plane tomorrow. That’s why you’re going to surprise my brother—because you miss him so much, you can’t even stand up straight. I know Sage feels the exact same way, and this time and space between the two of you is all bullshit—just like Violet said.”
I draw in a deep breath and try rolling back my shoulders, but it’s useless. She’s right, and hearing her call me out only makes me feel worse. Nevertheless, I can’t go through with their plan. It’s not as simple as they’re making it out to be. Nineteen more days—we still have nineteen more days until he gets home. He still has three weeks to figure out what he really wants and how he really feels.
“Rose, I appreciate what you’re trying to do,” I begin softly. “But it’s more complicated than all of that. You should go with Maestro, like you planned.”
“Do you love him?” Violet asks.
“He loves you,” Rose says before I can speak. I suck in a sharp breath involuntarily, and she takes a step toward me. “He told me. He loves you, Millie. And if you love him and he loves you, it’s not complicated.”
I shake my head at them, my heart aching at the mention of his love. Since the moment I shut him out, begging him to leave, I’ve wanted to hear him say the words again. I wish that we could go back, that such declarations could be shared in a moment that wasn’t marred with goodbye. But there is no going back, and we agreed—“We agreed,” I whisper, my throat clogged with the desperation I feel to resist the hope that’s been building in me since the night he left. “Six weeks,” I continue, taking a step away from the two of them. “If he meant it, I wanted to hear it again—in six weeks.”
“Honey, he calls you every day,” Violet coos, closing the distance between us. When she rests a hand on my shoulder, my vision grows blurry with tears.
“He burns blue,” I manage to squeak out, still combating my cry.
&nbs
p; “What?” she asks softly.
“On stage—he burns blue, like the hottest part of a flame. He is destined for a life far greater than the one I live.”
“That’s why he loves you,” Rose says, smiling at me as if I’ve just let her in on a secret. “You believe in him.”
“Of course I do.”
“Okay,” she proclaims, reaching inside of her purse and pulling out a printed boarding pass. “I’ve known Sage my whole life—I guarantee you this is going to go one of two ways. Either you’re going to throw away this ticket and wait another three weeks for him to come pound on your door until you let him in, and you will be his first stop, Millie; or, you’ll take this ticket, you’ll get your ass on that plane, and you’ll put each other out of your misery. It’s up to you—but I’m not going to California tomorrow. I’ve already decided. This ticket is yours.”
She turns and drops the boarding pass onto the couch before facing me once more.
“We’ll get out of here, give you some time to think about it,” Violet tells me, slipping into her coat. “Our flight leaves tomorrow at two. Oh, and Millie?” she asks, pausing as she opens the door. “You’re right. Mountains & Men is about to become a household name. I can feel it in my gut. My man is destined for bright lights and packed stadiums, and I’m just a girl who works at Jo-Jo’s Pizza. But guess what? He loves me, anyway. Give Sage a chance to love you anyway, too.”
They both leave without another word. The moment the door latches closed behind me, I can no longer hold back my tears. I press my back against the door—the very spot where Sage tried his damnedest to fight for me, speaking words I so desperately want to cling to—and I cry.
BY THE TIME I make it to the gate, they’re already boarding the plane. I don’t know whether to feel relieved or disappointed that I’m not too late. I’m still not convinced that this is a good idea. I’ve changed my mind more times than I thought possible in the last twenty-four hours. I almost turned around twice on my drive to the airport. I’m sick with worry, my appetite non-existent since yesterday, but now I’m here—my hopes so high they’re out of reach.
The truth is, I miss Sage more than I even know how to express. It’s not just the sound of his voice, or the feel of his touch, or those icy blue eyes behind his sexy, horn-rimmed glasses. It’s deeper than that; it’s heavier than that. He has my heart. Every last piece is wherever he is. I tried to hold back, I tried to preserve the remains of all that I had left to give, but he won the fight I wasn’t strong enough to win. The love I have for him is greater than any love I’ve ever felt. Over the last few weeks, I’ve come to realize that I’ll never feel for another man the way I feel for him—and I don’t want to! There is only one Sage Lawrence McCoy. He’s earned my heart, and I don’t want it back.
All my life, I’ve lived with the truth that men always leave. It’s entirely possible that Sage still might. Nothing in life is guaranteed. And yet, I cannot deny that he’s different. He’s always been different. From the very beginning, he’s fought for me in a ways no one ever has before. It scares the shit out of me. I don’t know how to trust love. I don’t know how to trust his word. I don’t know how to trust myself when I’m with him. I know, in the deepest recesses of my very being, I want to give him everything—it’s reckless and stupid and so fucking insane! There’s so much we don’t know about each other. And the future, his future, our future feels so fragile—teetering on the axis of everything or nothing.
He is my dreamer. It’s one of the things that I adore and admire about him. It’s been so long since I’ve grasped a dream. The last one I had hurt too much to hold onto. Now, I’m not sure I remember even how to dream. Sage believes that everyone dreams of something; he believes that I’ll find mine—and in the mean time, he told me to hold onto him. It scares me beyond comprehension to allow myself to surrender wholly to him, and yet here I am. I know without a doubt that when I get on that plane, this will be it. This will be the end of my fight. This will be my ultimate surrender. He’ll own me.
“Millie!” I barely catch sight of her before Violet crashes into me, wrapping her arms around me in a tight embrace. “You made it! Oh, my god—I’m so glad to see you.” She takes a deep breath, pulling away from me in order to showcase her grin. “He is going to be so happy when he sees you. I swear to god; he’ll probably lose his shit.” She squeals as she readjusts her duffle over her shoulder and then reaches for my hand. “Come on, sunny California awaits!”
I PULL MY GAZE away from the window at the sound of my phone ringing. I look down at it from where it sits on the little kitchen table, and a half smile pulls at my lips at the sight of my sister’s name lit up on the display.
“Hello?” I answer, pressing the device to my ear.
“Hey! Oh, my god, I can’t believe I actually caught you. I haven’t heard from you in dayssss. Glad to know you’re still alive.”
“Yeah,” I mumble, pushing my glasses up my face to pinch the bridge of my nose. Truth be told, I’ve been a real shit—barely calling my family to check in over the last few weeks. I know I need to do better, though I’m not sure I actually will. “Sorry, Rosy. It’s been crazy. How are you? How’s Maestro?” I ask, readjusting my glasses.
“We miss you,” she answers simply.
“Miss you, too, little lady. Hurry up and finish that degree and—”
“Yeah, yeah. I’m working on it. You just keep M&M’s lead accountant spot open for me, and I’ll be sure to pack a bag for your world tour. That’s the one I really want in on.”
“I hear you,” I reply with a soft chuckle.
“So, where are you now? Have you made it to L.A. yet?”
“Not yet. We had a late start. We won’t be there for another couple of hours, I don’t think.”
“You have a show tonight, right?”
“Yeah. We’re playing at The Wiltern.”
“Yeah. We’re playing at The Wiltern,” she says mockingly. “Sage! You’re playing a show in L.A.! Mountains & Men is hitting freaking Los Angeles, California!”
I hum a small laugh, wishing she was here with me. She’s my best friend and one of my biggest supporters; I know she’d get a kick out of every moment. “It is pretty cool, and so fucking surreal.”
“I bet.” She pauses for a second before she adds, “I think L.A. is going to be a real game changer, though.”
“Oh, yeah? Why’s that?”
“I just have a feeling,” she says vaguely. “Anyway, tell me more about what it’s like living on a bus.”
We chat for an hour, the guys chiming in and insisting I tell her shit when they catch bits and pieces of our conversation. I don’t mind, well aware that privacy isn’t something we’re rewarded much of anymore. In any case, most everything they want me to say makes Rosy laugh, and it does my heart good to hear it. She fills me in on what’s been going on at home, promising that she’ll send pictures of our nephews, Henley and Carter, and our niece, Sophia, in a couple of days, when she sees them on Thanksgiving. She then makes me swear to call mom and dad on the holiday, too.
“I’ll come out there and kick your ass myself if you forget. You know they’ll gripe about you all day if you don’t—so make sure you call early.”
“Rosy—I got it. Listen, I’ve got to go.”
“Yeah, okay. It was good to hear your voice, Sage. I really do miss you.”
“Miss you, too.”
“I love you.”
“You, too. Talk to you later.”
“Wait—Sage?”
“Yeah?”
“Milk L.A. for all it’s worth, okay?”
I furrow my brow, curious as to why she’s so adamant about the significance of L.A. I don’t bother to ask, and we hang up after I assure her that I’ll do my best. If there’s one thing I’m sure of, it’s that I won’t let my audience down. When I’m on that stage, none of the other shit matters—it’s all about the music, and I’ll never compromise that.
I FEEL LIKE I’M going
to throw up.
Violet and I touched down in Los Angeles almost three hours ago. As soon as we stepped foot into LAX, she had her phone out so she could call JJ. She informed him that she had just landed—keeping my presence a secret—and found out that they had not yet arrived. This news did not deter Violet at all, who was following signs and walking with determination to the airport’s exit. Neither of us checked a bag, leaving us the freedom to go where we pleased without delay. Before I knew it, we were flagging down a taxi.
Violet had done her research. She knew where the bands and the entire tour crew would be staying for the next couple of days, and she had already called ahead to book a room. When it had been her and Rosemary who were coming out to L.A., they agreed to split the cost of lodging, knowing that Sage and JJ would have a room and they could just switch bed fellows when the time came. Feeling wildly optimistic, Violet was sure that everything would work out just as before. I’d room with Sage and she’d stay with JJ.
I won’t lie and say that I don’t hope it works out that way; that Sage will want to see me and that the privacy of a room would be a necessity. To deny that I miss all of him, including his cock, would be a lie unworthy of the effort. He owns my orgasms and we both know it.
Check-in at the motel was at four. By the time we arrived, we were able to head to our room and freshen up before we left to meet the boys at tonight’s venue. JJ informed Violet that she could wait in the parking lot, outside of the barriers that closed off where the tour busses would settle, and he would come find her. After another taxi ride, we found ourselves at The Wiltern, along with dozens of other fans hoping to catch members of each band before the show.
My stomach was in knots at the sight of so many people—the numbers growing the longer we stood waiting. I’d never experienced anything like it, and I realized that I was standing in the midst of my biggest fear. I was standing in a crowd that was a representation of exactly where Sage is going. I was standing on the precipice of a dream come true—his dream come true. I felt so small.