In Your Honor

by Heidi Hutchinson

  “I know you haven't made any decisions, and this is not meant to put any pressure on you,” Kendra was saying. She'd cornered Lucy in the back lounge of the red bus while the rest of the two bands had gone to do radio interviews. Lucy had backed out of the radio spots, declaring her intentions to return home after the tour and not remain a part of the Taylor Stevens Band. Kendra decided to pounce. “You've developed a pretty decent following. I can manage it for you.”

  “Just ask me what you want to ask me, K,” Lucy said with a hidden smirk.

  Kendra narrowed her eyes. “Who told you?”

  “Mike may have mentioned something.”

  Kendra sat down next to her and huffed. “All right. I want to be your manager. I think I'd be really good at it.”

  “You would be,” Lucy agreed. “And I promise, if I decide to do this, you're the one I'm gonna pick.”

  Kendra sighed. “I can't believe the tour is over.”

  “Tell me about it, it went fast,” Lucy agreed.

  “You're really going home?”

  “You're the one who got my ticket for me,” Lucy reminded her with a laugh.

  “I know... I was just hoping...”

  “What were you hoping?”

  “That Blake would ask you to stay.”

  Lucy bit down on her bottom lip and chewed thoughtfully. “You have to be your own before you can be someone else's,” she quoted.

  Kendra jerked her head to look at Lucy in shock.

  “What?” Lucy asked with a wary smile.

  “Nothing,” Kendra shook her head. “I mean, Blake said that same exact thing on the plane the day we left Oklahoma.”

  Lucy's smile grew soft and her gaze traveled past Kendra's face to the wall behind her. “I forgot.”

  “Forgot what?”

  “He used to say it all the time. It must have made an impact and I just forgot.”

  Kendra hesitated before speaking, but just barely. “See? That's what I mean. You guys are so connected that being apart seems ridiculous. I get that Shane turned into a complete douche nozzle and you got hurt, but it's been six weeks. I'm pretty sure the statute of limitations for grieving a relationship has passed. I mean, it's not like you guys had been together very long. In fact, I think you've been broken up longer than you were together.”

  “Tell me how you really feel,” Lucy responded dryly and with a smirk. “I hear what you're saying, K, I really do. But I've been reckless too many times. I think I'm gonna try the cautious side of things for awhile.”

  “Even if it's completely against your nature?” Kendra retorted.

  “Man, you've picked up an attitude,” Lucy teased instead of answering the question. “Who knew there was a southern girl under all that New England chill.”

  Kendra smiled wryly and Lucy leaned her shoulder into hers. The conversation was over for now, she knew. But she was hoping that it wasn't the end of the road. It didn't feel finished yet.

  ***

  Sure, the shows had been... awesome, in a word. The minutes that were spent on the stage in the hot lights, singing her fool heart out, were her favorite parts of the day. Blake had been right, it was the best therapy for mending her broken heart.

  And then of course there was Blake. The past month had been completely different for Lucy. He was attentive without being pushy, and weirdly sweet. He gave her space but didn't disappear. They still hung out in groups with the other band members, Blake consistently taking the place by her side wherever they may be. Their friendship had blossomed into a whole new flower and she was hesitant to hang her hopes on it. Afraid it would get yanked away from her again.

  She hadn't seen or spoken to Shane since the day he'd left. But she'd heard whispers and covert rumors that Blake had gone to see him in New York. The outcome of that conversation must not have been too dramatic, because Blake hadn't even mentioned it. It didn't diminish her curiosity, though.

  Her writing had picked up considerably. She wrote by herself as often as possible. She'd taken claim of the back lounge and it had become her makeshift office. Taylor suggested she keep it as her room, and she happily complied. Writing seemed to be the only way to put her jumbled feelings in any kind of an order. Not that it helped make any sense of it, but at least it was getting out and not staying inside.

  That's where she was at the moment, scribbling words down on notebook paper as fast as she could. Kendra had just left, and Lucy was struck with inspiration. Their final show was tonight and she felt caught off guard. She had been looking forward to going home after all this, but now she suddenly felt like she wasn't finished.

  In all honesty, she wasn't ready to leave Blake yet. Their friendship had become a vital part of her everyday existence again, even if it was safer than it had been before, and she was terrified of starting all over. But that's exactly what would happen. She would go home and he would be a rock star. Two different worlds. Two different futures.

  She was completely aware of the fact that if she went ahead and took Luke's offer and signed to their label, there was a very real possibility that she and Blake would remain in better contact. But that was a huge commitment, and she didn't want to make that kind of decision for the wrong reasons. Staying in order to hold onto Blake was the wrong reason.

  As such, she already had a flight home booked for the day after tomorrow. Daddy had planned a welcome home party for her at the diner and she was looking forward to that too.

  Why couldn't she be happy with just that? Why did she have to feel ripped in half?

  ***

  Blake wasn't sure how time had gotten away from him. He had woken up this morning with the sobering realization that Lucy was leaving in a couple days. And they hadn't taken any big steps towards what he wanted most.

  The show that night was going to be pretty huge and there were a lot of preparations and details that had to be taken care of. He was kind of upset that it was the last show of the tour and he wouldn't get to see Lucy at all ahead of time, it just wasn't feasible. He was busy with radio interviews all day and would even miss her sound check.

  During the radio interview that morning, they had been asked more about Lucy than about their own band. She was intriguing and new and the world wanted a piece of her. Some photos on the internet had started to circulate of her and Blake being seen together and he had to dodge rumors that there was anything going on. Even though it wasn't all truth. He wanted to be with her. Badly.

  Lucy's set that night went better than anticipated. The media's interest in her had caused additional hype that no one was truly prepared for. When she came back to play during Taylor's set, the crowd went nuts. They acted like she was a bigger celebrity than she was, and Blake could tell she was amused.

  When DBS took to the stage, Blake played for all he was worth. The set was longer, bigger, and louder, and he trashed his guitar in the process. The fans loved it. He threw chunks of his broken instrument out into the crowd, loving his job more than ever.

  After their extended encore, he came down the steps of the stage to see Lucy's beaming smile right at the bottom. He didn't hesitate or over-think it, he just gathered her in his arms and hugged her as tight as possible. Pressing his face into her neck, he breathed in deeply. She would always be home to him.

  “When is your flight?” he asked as he set her down.

  “Day after tomorrow. Eight in the morning.” She pressed her lips together, avoiding saying what they were both feeling.

  Well, he was done with that. He had given her time to grieve. Had been the shoulder when she was vulnerable. Had given her space to clear her head. It was time to get it right. Her dark eyes shifted to the floor, and he wondered if this was one of those moments where she was reading his thoughts again.

  “Where you staying tonight?” he asked, tangling his fingers in hers as they walked to the green room. They all had to move off of the buses so they could be cleaned and stored. The members of DBS would go to their homes in the city, but Taylor and his ba
nd would have accommodations in town before their flights home the day after.

  “Some fancy hotel in midtown.” She faltered for a second, but recovered and very deliberately asked, “Maybe you could help me find it?”

  Blake felt his lip twitch, but other than that he hid his reaction. Inside, he was yelling and carrying on like a fool who had just won the lottery. She was ready.

  “Sure, you already packed?” he asked, keeping his tone casual even though lightning was traveling the length of his veins, starting at the place where her hand was connected to his.

  “Yep, took care of that today.” They stopped at the green room door and she looked at him, tucking hair behind her ear shyly. Her dark locks were hanging in messy tangles over her shoulders and she'd changed into fresh clothes after her set. Impulsively, he leaned down and kissed her cheek, noting the instant red flush of her one exposed ear.

  “I'll get your bags out of the bus so you can say goodbye to everyone.” He squeezed her hand before letting it go and left her there. He knew she watched him walk away, he didn't have to turn around to check. But he did. He gave her a wink and she bit her bottom lip as he turned back around again. Oh yeah, it was time. Tonight was the night.

  He got her bags out of the bus and called a cab to meet them by the back gate of the venue. The end of the tour was usually bittersweet. These people became family, and it was a sad lonesome feeling to have to end that relationship. Especially for someone like Lucy, who had made friends with every single person on tour. It's just who she was. So, saying goodbye took a long time. Blake wasn't so sentimental. He'd see most of the crew around town soon enough. And those he didn't, he didn't really care about that much anyway.

  Lucy wiped a few stray tears off of her face as she joined him next to the cab while he was loading her bags in the trunk. He grinned at her and held the door open so she could get in first. She slid into the seat and he got in beside her, his heart starting to pound like thunder. He reached over and put an arm around her, hauling her back to his side of the cab so she was pressed right up next to him.

  She let out a startled gasp that made him want to kiss her before she relaxed. They didn't speak the whole ride over, and she watched the lights pass outside the window, occasionally stealing glances in his direction. He knew this because he'd been staring at her the whole time.

  When they pulled up outside his loft, he could see the questions on her face, but he didn't address them. He tried to hold back the smile that wanted to take over his face as he unloaded her bags and paid the cabbie.

  “Where are we?” she finally asked as he hoisted their luggage and entered through the door being held open by Winston, his doorman. He nodded at the man respectfully and she followed him into the elevator.

  He pushed the button for his floor and waited for the doors to close before answering, “My place.” Her lips opened slightly and his eyes focused on them for a second before they swept back up to her surprised expression. He raised an eyebrow at her. “You make your first trip to Boston and you haven't even asked to see where I live.”

  “I guess, I thought...” she stammered, and he let out a chuckle as the doors opened to his floor.

  She followed him through the door and he stole another glance at her. Her ears were bright red, and she was chewing on the side of her thumbnail while she watched him work the lock.

  “You're adorable.” He smiled crookedly when she frowned at him. He opened the door, ushering her through first, reaching over her shoulder to flick the lights on.

  Setting down their suitcases, he crossed his arms over his chest and leaned against the wall by the door, watching her examine his living quarters.

  She had this curious habit of exploring new places slowly and deliberately. Touching corners, fabrics and certain pieces of furniture. Like she was learning more about the inhabitant of that place than she could by having a conversation.

  A sense of peace and satisfaction came over him as her presence seemed to fill the empty spaces that he had been struggling with for years. The entire time he had owned his loft, he had never once brought a woman back to it, not counting Claudia the cleaning woman. Not one date or girlfriend had crossed the threshold. He was always waiting for her, he supposed. Because, for the first time, it felt like home.

  “I love you.”

  She turned around slowly. He kind of couldn't believe that he'd just said that, but he was done with all the regret and all the games and the believing that he couldn't have her. Shane had been right. He belonged to her. He belonged with her.

  She studied him silently, her eyes measuring him, deciding if he was serious or not. “Don't say hasty things because I'm going home in a couple of days,” she responded, focusing on logical reasoning.

  “This is it.” He pushed off the wall and started to walk towards her. “It's this simple for me. And I'm sorry it's taken me so long to get around to doing this.” As he approached, she took several steps backwards, keeping distance between them. Her back bumped into the window and she swallowed. He kept advancing, her dark eyes never leaving his. One of his hands slid under the heavy fall of her hair, his thumb stroking her pulse point, which was racing. Reaching around her with the other arm, he opened the window and motioned for her to go up the fire escape. She hesitated for a fraction of a second before sliding free of his touch and climbing outside.

  His heart began to hammer in his chest. It was thunderous and it finally felt like it was beating the way it had been meant to beat his whole life.

  When they reached the roof, she surveyed the lights of the city he had considered his refuge for many years, the same way she had looked around his home. With wonder, absorbing the details of where he'd been living during all their time apart.

  “I had no idea Boston was so beautiful,” she breathed, taking it all in.

  He swallowed hard and tried to work moisture back into his suddenly dry mouth. Tonight, he was going to ask his questions. Tonight, she was going to give him answers. No more running. No more hiding.

  “Tell me about the tattoo.” The shocked look on her face caused him to give her a crooked smile.

  “How do you know about that?” she asked, instantly uncomfortable.

  “Shane told me awhile ago.” He tried to keep his voice level and flat, not wanting to give her any reason to worry about his reaction.

  “Why didn't you say anything?” Her frown was too cute. Of course she'd be confused at him withholding that information. It wasn't like him. He was an in-your-face jerk half the time.

  “I didn't know how,” he answered honestly. “You told me once that you would never get a tattoo. You said they were too permanent and there wasn't anything in your life worth etching onto your skin forever.”

  Her eyes shifted away from him and he knew she was embarrassed. He waited, he had no idea what the tattoo was. Shane hadn't been specific, but he'd made it obvious that it had to do with Blake.

  “It's, uh, it's your name,” she confessed finally. It was really that simple? His name? His name. He never deserved her.

  “Where is it, I wanna see,” he demanded, a little more forcefully than he intended, but she was more than used to his tactics.

  “Blake!” Exasperation bled out of her. “I can't show that! It's a very... personal place.” She realized what she'd confessed and her eyes widened. She focused on him as he fought back a smile. “This is very awkward. What are you doing to me? First, you say you love me downstairs, totally spinning my world out of control. Now, you've got me on the roof, looking out over this,” she gave a sweep with her arm, “gorgeous city, and you start asking me to take my shirt off.” She stopped short as she heard her own words.

  “So it's under your shirt?” he attempted to clarify in amusement.

  She rolled her eyes and muttered, “Yes, on my ribs.” Her fingers touched the space on her left side that was nearly the same location as his own tattoo with her name.

  “So, that day on the beach,” he questioned, “w
hen you saw my ink, you knew that we had chosen the same location.”

  She swallowed, her eyes glossing over. “Yes.” She closed her eyes slowly and then opened them. “It was close to my heart.”

  “When?”

  “Why does it matter?” she sighed, a single tear rolling down her face.

  “Because I want to know. Just tell me,” he persisted, stepping closer to her.

  “I got it about a month before you came back.” She looked at her feet like she was ashamed.

  He ran his forefinger along her jaw and under her chin, lifting her head.

  “That's almost the same exact time I got mine.” His voice was rough at this point as he tried to control what he was feeling. Her eyes widened in surprise and he nodded, “True story. I've never gotten over you. And I suspect you've never gotten over me.”

  She stared up at him soberly. “How did we get here, Blake?” she asked softly.

  “I screwed things up a long time ago. But I have this theory...” He slipped his hand under her hair, cupping the back of her head and gently touching her cheek with his thumb. “That it would have been a lot worse had I stuck around. I never felt like I deserved you and I was a punk-ass kid. I would have ruined your life.”

  He let his eyes wander over her face. That perfect, angelic face that he had loved nearly his entire life. “I still don't feel like I deserve you. But I finally feel like I can love you.” He didn't miss her sharp intake of air, and he focused on her brown eyes as he continued, “I finally got my head right. If you let me, I'll love you forever. Probably with more passion and persistence than you can stand at times.”

  Her mouth tugged up on the side, and he knew she was going to say yes. She loved him. She had always loved him, he had never had a reason to doubt it.

  “I'm scared, Blake.” Her honesty was amazing. He delighted in the fact that he would never have to question or wonder what she was thinking, she'd always been straight with him.

  “I am too,” he confessed. “But what if we weren't?”

  Lowering his lips to barely brush hers, he murmured, “Kiss me, Lucy. Kiss me like we're not scared.”