Finding the Dream (For the Love of Music #1.5)

by Mia Josephs

  And it shouldn't be awkward. He and Alyson were on a break. He and Sierra were roommates.

  Sierra wore scuffed boots that nearly reached her knees, and a white mid-thigh sundress covered with a denim jacket—the kind of easy sexiness that Alyson could never do. Alyson did everything big. She hated her Great Outdoors t-shirt. But when they’d first started dating, he’d needed her in something really boring, or he’d have just kept the store closed and had sex with her in a million different dirty ways in the backroom. Which he maybe shouldn’t be thinking about in that moment.

  “Seriously, Van?” Sierra asked. “Are you okay?”

  He shook his head. “I guess I didn’t sleep well last night. Might need caffeine. Let’s get coffee.” And he bolted for the front door, careful not to look at either woman as he went.

  Sierra let the heels of her boots drag, and forced him to slow down once they hit the sidewalk.

  “Breathe.” Sierra laughed. “You’re being sorta weird. You know that, right?”

  Donovan blinked. Blinked again. “Here.” He pushed open the door of the coffee shop that took about a fifth of his earnings every month—feeding his coffee addiction as well as his morning scone addiction and spicy turkey sandwich addiction. He ate there about ten times more often than he ate at home, but it was really the only luxury he allowed himself.

  “You okay?” Sierra grabbed his arm, her small fingers gentle but tough.

  Donovan let out a breath. This was actually a truth he could tell her. “I’ll give you the low-down in a sec.”

  “The low-down?” Sierra smirked. “You’re showing your age, Van.”

  “Go sit.” He grinned. This was what he was used to with her. “I’ll order us coffees.”

  Sierra nodded once seriously, and took a seat at his favorite table near the window, and then he stared again before remembering to place their order.

  He took the number to place on the table and sat across from her.

  “So?” she asked.

  “You met Alyson.” He scratched his hair.

  Sierra nodded once slowly. “Yep.”

  “We’ve been…” He released a breath. “You’re all grown up, right?”

  “So, you’re having sex with her?” Sierra asked.

  Donovan cringed. “You’re not supposed to be saying stuff like that.”

  “Get over it, Van. I’m grown up.” She leaned forward, obviously goading him. “I’ve had sex.”

  “No!” He pressed his hands over his ears in jest. “You have to stop this so I’m not scarred!” Not just scarred, but her talking about sex made her seem a lot less like a little sister.

  “Fine.” She put all of her exasperated energy into that one word and he found himself smiling again.

  “Okay. So she interviewed at the store, and I thought she was pretty hot.”

  “I think she’s stunning,” Sierra said. “I’ll never look like that.”

  What? “Why would you want to?” He took in the natural, quiet beauty of Sierra and wondered what woman would trade that for the extremeness of Alyson? Though, his opinion was for sure influenced by personality.

  “Doesn’t everyone want that sexy, dark, mysterious thing?” she asked.

  Donovan let out a loose chuckle as he shook his head. “I never really understood her, so when she asked for a break a couple weeks ago, I was totally in shock. I guess since I didn’t understand her, I shouldn’t have been. I just… No. Not everyone wants that mysterious thing. Trust me.”

  “She wanted a break from you?” Sierra asked.

  The barista set their coffees on the table. Well. Coffee for him. Peppermint hot chocolate for her. It was stupid, but she’d been addicted to them when she was younger.

  “Yeah. I know,” he teased. “And I'm so perfect!”

  Sierra slowly reached for her mug. “I guess I don’t totally understand.”

  “Neither did I. Actually. I still don’t understand. And it’s fine. I mean… I liked her or we wouldn’t have…”

  “Been having sex?” Sierra offered and he flinched.

  “You know.” She grasped her mug. “You’re going to have to get used to the fact that I am a legal adult.”

  “Barely.” He frowned.

  “Two years into being a legal adult,” she countered.

  Right.

  Sierra pulled the mug to her lips and then giggled. “I cannot believe you remembered this about me.” She took a sip. “I know this is totally a mark against my adultness, but I love this kind of hot chocolate. Love.”

  Donovan let himself relax across from her and took a long drink of his coffee. “Good.”

  “I guess sorry things are awkward at the store?” she offered. “But if you’re not torn up about it, you were probably not in the right place anyway.”

  “No, probably not. Actually, the break showed me that we weren’t going anywhere.” And he was okay with that. It’s not like he was in a hurry to find his forever or anything, he just wanted it to be right when he did.

  “I’ve never dated anyone where I ever thought it could actually go somewhere. Must be nice.” Her cheeks reddened a bit.

  “Yeah.” Donovan pictured what he wanted in the end—a nice little house, close family—he just couldn’t imagine being part of the steps to get there.

  “Thanks for this.” Sierra tapped her cup, slumped in her chair, and blew up her face to push her hairs off her forehead. So very Sierra. Living with her would be fine. It would be fine. Any day she’d feel normal again. Any day…

  Finally Sierra had managed a nice breakfast and the perfect dinner for Donovan—spicy chicken and mashed potatoes. It had been one of his favorites when he lived with her family, and the family recipe had given her something to blog about that day as well. The small apartment smelled edible, and Van’s guitars were up on the wall.

  She closed her eyes, knew timing on dinner was going to work out perfectly, and she started to finally feel that burst of independence she’d wanted when she left home.

  The apartment door opened at just after eight, and Donovan paused half in the door with a smile. “Paprika chicken.”

  Sierra giggled too fast to even try to stop it. “It used to be one of your favs.”

  “Been forever.” He stepped inside and closed the door behind him. “I’m already drooling.”

  Sierra grasped the spatula and watched the chicken in the iron skillet. Paprika burned fast if you weren’t looking. “Now you’re supposed to play some music while I finish dinner. Remember how you used to do that for me and Mom?”

  He let his bag slide off his shoulder as he dropped it on a chair.

  “You don’t need me to help you finish.” His eyes seemed unfocused, and she watched Donovan instead of the food.

  “Why were they buried? The guitars, I mean?”

  He shrugged out of his soft leather jacket and dropped it on top of his backpack.

  Maybe she’d hit on some kind of bad topic, and maybe she should let it go, but… “Please? One song. Anything you want.”

  He chuckled softly. “Okay. Fine. One.”

  She was practically giddy again as he gently lifted the guitar off the wall.

  “I tuned it for you,” she said.

  He turned to face her, the guitar strap already over his shoulder. “How do you know how to tune guitars?”

  “YouTube.” She grinned. “It’s probably not perfect, but it’s close. You play. I’ll dish us up.”

  “Thanks for dinner.” He stared at the instrument in his hands. “You didn’t have to.”

  “Thanks for playing me a song. You do have to,” she teased.

  He ran his hand up and down the neck of the guitar a few times, the familiar sound of skin on textured metal made Sierra smile.

  And then he started to play, a song that was all his. A unique strumming filled the room followed immediately by Donovan’s smooth voice. Sierra’s heart shifted even further toward the guy she’d grown up with.

  This very simple
thing—him coming home from work, her cooking, him playing, and soon they’d be sitting and eating together… All of it was what she’d wanted for as long as she could remember. There was just one more thing missing, but if he never looked at her the way she’d wanted him to for years, she hoped she’d at least start to be okay with them remaining just friends.

  Six

  Donovan rubbed his eyes as he ambled into the living room. He’d finally started to make use of the two pairs of sweats he owned, not wanting to accidentally give Sierra an eyeful through his boxers. She was surprisingly easy to live with. She never cared what he watched on TV, and she loved to cook. Three weeks, and they’d settled into a new kind of normal—one where they were roommates, and on more equal ground than he ever thought he’d be with Hanson’s sister.

  He stopped at the end of the hallway and watched her staring at her computer screen, blinking over and over.

  “You okay?” he asked quietly.

  Sierra sniffed and rubbed under both eyes. “Another rejection on my book.”

  “That has to suck.” He knew what rejection felt like. For the first few years of college he’d sent recordings of his songs to a million places. He always thought hearing nothing was worse than a rejection, until he got a rejection. “I’m sorry.”

  She pulled in a breath. “It’s stupid anyway.”

  “It’s not stupid.” How could she think that? “When your mom said you were writing, I just thought of course. Of course she is. Because it just… It just fits you.”

  She pressed her small hands on her cheeks and breathed in. “Really?”

  Van nodded. “I’m gonna grab cereal, do you want some?”

  “I made granola yesterday, I’ll have a bowl of that.”

  “People make granola?”

  Sierra laughed a little. “Someone makes it, Van. Even when you buy it at the store.”

  “Yeah…” He shook his head. “No coffee yet.”

  “Think you’ll be up for playing a bit tonight?” she asked.

  Her voice was so full of hope. Why did she care? Why was it this ‘thing’ for her? Because all it did for him was remind him of how he’d had to leave it behind. Trying to juggle a career in music that wasn’t moving forward, and a store that was… The choice had been smart, but it still sometimes stung. “I have a storeroom to clean out today.”

  He found the granola and dumped some into two bowls before reaching for the fridge.

  “Oh, good. I’m coming in to help because if I keep looking at my computer, I’ll keep reading that letter over and over, and I just…”

  Donovan handed her the bowl. “This is the fanciest meal you’ll get from me.”

  She let out a small sigh. “Thanks, really.”

  “Don’t come to the shop. You’ll get filthy, and then you’ll know what a pig I am.”

  “I cleaned your kitchen, Van.” She cocked a brow. “I’m aware of your lack of skill.”

  He was about to open his mouth to tell her that she should have seen it before he cleaned it, but maybe that was better left unsaid. “Hmm.” He took a bite. Holy hell this was magic granola. He stifled another moan over the flavor. “This is amazing. But I’m gonna put on real pants, and head in to the store.”

  “I’m going to shower and try not to check my email again.” She slipped a massive bite of granola into her mouth and then attempted to talk around it. “Ahhh well hee ooh dare.” She laughed and milk dribbled down her smooth chin. She wiped her face with the back of her hand with a partial laugh.

  For being into so many stereotypically ‘girly’ things, there were times when she’d have totally blended into a room full of guys.

  “What?” she asked with a smile. “You’re staring.”

  “You’re just a cool girl, See.” Donovan stood and shoveled in a few more bites before setting his empty bowl on the counter. “And fine. I’ll see you there.”

  Living with a girl wasn’t as weird as he thought it might be. Well…until he stepped into the bathroom. She had tools and soaps that felt so foreign they might as well belong to aliens. But that was only one room. One room of weird he could handle.

  Sierra leaned over the dusty loft space in the back of the store. How had her brother and Donovan let this place get so messy? Actually. She knew them both, and shouldn’t have been surprised. Donovan stood below her, and she’d pretty much given up wearing something to attract his attention because he ended up staring at the floor when she wore shorts.

  Three weeks of big meals, and skimming over homework, and continued online busyness, and the only thing that had happened was that Donovan didn’t look quite as shell-shocked when they were together.

  She was just…living. Life outside of her parents’ house was supposed to feel bigger, different.

  Donovan had relaxed into the guy she remembered growing up with, and for now, that was a good thing. Baby steps. She was far from giving up hope, and had so much to still look forward to.

  “Catch!” Sierra yelled from atop the ladder and Donovan jerked to the ready, knowing it would be a shoebox.

  He grasped the box in his hands just as she reached in for another. “You know I’m not paying you to help, right?” he teased. “And don’t you have class later?”

  Sierra turned, her face smudged with dust from cleaning the top shelves in the back room. “I have a job, Van. I’m doing this mess for fun. And yes, I do have a class, but this messy back room is between our apartment and the school, and like I said this morning, I hate my email inbox today.”

  “And...” He set the box down next to the others. Two-year-old stock he hoped he could dump in some kind of early fall sidewalk sale. “Maybe you’re here to blackmail your brother when he returns?”

  “That goes without saying.” She leaned onto the wooden shelf so far the top half of her disappeared, and he found himself staring at her ass.

  Okay. So, it wasn’t quite the same as when they were kids, but not quite as tense as the first few days.

  Alyson blinked as she stepped into the back and Donovan dropped his eyes to the floor in maybe the guiltiest gesture he could have done.

  Something like hurt crossed over her features before she turned around and moved back into the store. She’d wanted the break. And that was close to a month ago.

  What should he do? Follow her? Continue to help Sierra? He didn’t know what the right thing was in that moment, so he did neither.

  “I’m gonna finish up some paperwork,” he lied. “Heading to my office.”

  “Wimp,” Sierra called from the far recesses of the mini-loft that held all the stock he hadn’t wanted to deal with.

  “Yep.” But at least he wouldn't be faced with both women in the same room.

  Once he was inside his office, he sat at his worn, teacher’s desk and pulled up his email. Then typed in Hanson’s email address. Then just…stared.

  What was he supposed to say to Hanson? Your sister got hot? She’s pretty cool? Pretty sure I can’t do anything about it, but wanted you to know?

  Nope.

  But still, his fingers sped across the keys as he typed out a quick note.

  All’s well, but call when you get a chance, Donovan

  And hit send.

  Sierra scooted onto the wooden platform, barely enough room for her to sit up if she stayed hunched over. Maybe helping out at the store hadn’t been a good idea. It’s that she was not going to try that Victoria’s Secret workout again, and the cooking was probably just reminding him of when he lived at her house. Reminding him of that time, would only remind him more that she was Hanson’s little sister. She had to try something new, and maybe working at the store would help. Even if it didn’t, he worked long hours, and she wanted to help.

  Slipping her phone out of her pocket, she leaned against the back wall and sent Lindsey a message.

  Sierra: Am I pathetic? I mean, really. I need to just stop thinking about this so much, right?

  She hit send, waiting for Lindsey to write
her back and tell her to move on to the next step. Come out of the bathroom and accidentally let her towel slip off, or do the workouts she planned to do when he was around. But the thing was, Donovan was busy. He wasn’t around much, and when he was it just… It would have been weird to dominate the living room while she worked out. He thanked her profusely for the food, played a little guitar when she begged, but…but that was really it.

  Lindsey: Why don’t you find some nice college guy to take you out to dinner?

  Wait. Not Van?

  She typed back quickly.

  Sierra: Are you serious?

  Lindsey: You’ve dated other guys. You’re allowed to date.

  Sierra: I know I’m allowed to date. That’s not the problem.

  Lindsey: Then what’s the problem?

  The problem was that Van was right there. How could she go out with someone else? When he wasn’t around at all she could manage, but now he was. If she went out with someone now, it would be like a test to see if Van acted differently. She didn’t want to date someone else as a ploy to get Donovan to notice her. That was toying with too many people in too yucky a way. Showing off her body and cooking skills was one thing. It just…

  Sierra: I don’t know.

  Lindsey: My guess is that if you just looked around instead of burying your face in your book and in your notes in class, you’d see that people are noticing you. Maybe cute people. Maybe you are his little sister? I’m cringing right now wondering what you’re thinking.

  She was thinking that maybe Lindsey was right.

  Sierra: You suck. I love you. Opening eyes starting tomorrow. And have I said that it’s just sort of creepy you know me so well?

  Lindsey: Creepy-awe-some ;-)

  Sierra slipped the phone back in her pocket and rested against the wall.

  Donovan’s pencil was wearing down he’d written so much. When was the last time songs just came out? They were probably crap, but they were a starting place.

  A starting place for what?

  The creak of his office door made Donovan jump.