Tracing Holland (NSB Book 2)

by Alyson Santos

  She shakes her head in disbelief. “Unbelievable.”

  I’m not really sure what to say next, but I’m glad I did it. It feels so good to have made her happy. To have done the right thing for once. Still, I’m not sure what to do with these new, strange sensations, and she almost seems annoyed that I’m not gushing about my heroics like she is. “You don’t even get it, do you?” she continues, and I swallow.

  “Um…”

  “What you just did... I know every part of you wanted to beat his face in, and instead you did the last thing I ever expected you to do.”

  “I told the truth.”

  “You were amazing.” She grins and leans forward, rewarding me with a long kiss. “I love sweet Luke. I can’t even tell you how hot he is.”

  Crap, I hope I’m not blushing. “Well, don’t get used to it. I have a reputation to maintain,” I tease.

  “Not unless you want Wes to demolish you. As God is my witness, I now get to let him destroy you if you ever break my heart.” She sits back and scrunches her nose. “What did he say anyway?”

  I smirk. “Honestly? Nothing. He just hung up.”

  “Nothing? Not a word?”

  “After my speech, no. Nothing.”

  She shakes her head. “Wonder what that means.”

  I shrug. “I have no idea, but I’ll probably need to sleep with one eye open for the rest of the tour.”

  “Your eye is still messed up from the last conversation!”

  I grin and lean toward her again. “Makes me look like a badass though, right?”

  She answers my question with another kiss. A much deeper one than I was expecting. “Maybe.”

  “I knew it. You talk big about being all evolved and mature, but deep down you just want your boyfriend to beat the shit out of people like everyone else.”

  Her eyes widen at my teasing. “Oh really? Big tough guy, huh?”

  I laugh as she shoves me down and straddles me. The hungry kiss that follows completely erases anything left of my arguments. I don’t even remember the topic.

  “Wow,” I say when we finally come up for air.

  “That’s one way to get you to shut up,” she grins, kissing me again.

  “Wait, I thought I’m always in trouble for not talking enough!”

  She rolls her eyes and smacks me before leaning in again and leaving no doubt about who will be winning this debate.

  ∞∞∞

  We have breakfast at the hotel with Callie and Casey the next morning before they take off for the funeral. Casey is unusually quiet, somber certainly, but I’m not convinced it’s solely related to the death of his father. I don’t think anyone could have dreaded such a gathering as much as I had, but this event will be no picnic for Casey either. His rocky relationship with his father will be the elephant in the room, and that’s best-case scenario. Worst case, he becomes the focal point of today’s drama, and my heart goes out to him as he prepares to face his own demons that have followed him to Houston. He and I both suspect he was spared their claws yesterday only because I was a more desirable target. There’s so much to say, but I can tell he has no interest in talking about it right now. I don’t blame him and give him a knowing look when they rise to leave.

  “We’ll be here when you get back, ok?” I assure him quietly, knowing he’ll understand my unspoken message.

  “Thanks, man,” he replies.

  I give him a quick hug and turn to Callie. “Take care of him. I’m putting you in charge today.”

  She nods and tucks her arm around Casey’s waist. “For sure.” She squeezes and smiles up at him. “I love you, hon. You got this,” she says, and I catch the way he immediately seems to relax.

  “Thanks, Cal.” He gives her a quick kiss. “You ready?”

  She nods again and turns back to us. “Wish us luck,” she says with a knowing look, and I almost cringe. They are going to need so much more than that. I’m feeling terrible about abandoning Casey, but realize I would be doing him no favors with my volatile presence.

  Holland and I watch them leave before returning to our seats.

  “You ok?” Holland asks, searching my eyes. “It had to be hard letting him go.”

  I give her a weak smile, appreciating her insight. “There’s no way I could step foot in that church after yesterday.”

  She grins and shakes her head. “No. Not unless they want to perform a dozen more funerals this week.”

  I smirk and lean back. “He’s got Callie. Thank God for her. She’ll take care of him.”

  “They’re lucky to have found each other.”

  “You don’t even know the half of it,” I mutter, leaning forward and rubbing my eyes. I shake off the story. “Anyway, Casey will be ok. He’s one of the strongest people I know.”

  She nods and studies me. I have no idea what she’s thinking, which always fascinates and scares the crap out of me at the same time. I don’t know how she always seems to get inside me, but man, that’s no place for her right now. She has mercy for once. “So what’s the plan for today now that the funeral has been removed from the agenda?”

  I swallow and look away, having no idea how to respond to that question. It’s a simple answer, but completely impossible at the same time. I steady my nerves and force myself to meet her gaze.

  “I want to visit Elena while I’m here,” I explain quietly, begging her to understand.

  Her eyes soften as she reaches for my hand. “Of course,” she says, squeezing my fingers. “May I go with you?”

  I just stare at her. I’m sure I look ridiculous. Actually, I have no clue what my face looks like because if it’s anything like what’s going on in my head…

  “Holland, I…Really? You’d go with me?”

  She almost seems surprised by my question. “Of course I would! She’s part of you. She’s always going to be a part of you. I understand that.”

  I look away, fighting the emotion that starts creeping into my chest, my throat. I’m so unprepared for this moment I have no idea how to navigate it.

  “When do you want to go?” she continues gently, clearly sensing my struggle.

  “Now, probably.”

  Holland gets up from the table and moves around to my side. She holds out her hands, and I gaze up in awe for a moment before accepting her amazing gift and letting her pull me to my feet.

  ∞∞∞

  I know I’m being quiet, even for me, as we climb out of the cab and approach the giant iron gate. Holland takes my hand and squeezes as I draw in a deep breath, bracing for what lies beyond. We start moving again and I can’t help but reflect on how much has changed since the last time I passed through this arch just a couple weeks before. I feel like a different person, almost like there is an entirely new path carved for me through this maze of grass and rock.

  Neither of us speaks as we walk and I’m grateful for the silence. I have no words for this situation, and I’m beginning to think Holland doesn’t either. We both sense our submersion in uncharted territory, but then again, nothing about our relationship has followed the rules so far. I suppose that shouldn’t surprise me when my entire life has been one giant “F-U” battle between me and the universe. I have no idea who’s winning at this point.

  I slow as we approach Elena’s grave and lead Holland off the asphalt path, into the grass. Her grip tightens, but I’m no longer certain the pressure is entirely for my benefit. I glance at her face and am struck by the glimpse into what this truly means to her for the first time. She has been nothing but supportive, an angel, since the day we met, but this moment, this reality, can’t be easy for her either. To know she not only has to share me with a ghost, but a ghost I wronged. A ghost that represents the horror of what I was and will never be appeased. No amount of apologies, counseling, or promises will ever reverse this headstone.

  “It’s beautiful,” she manages finally, staring in awe at the breathtaking ruby granite.

  I swallow, trying to steady my breathing. “It was
the only beautiful thing I did for her,” I whisper before I can stop it.

  I sense her gaze but can’t look.

  “That can’t be true,” she returns, and I close my eyes. I can feel the hot tears beating against my eyelids and quickly focus back on the headstone.

  “It was custom-made,” I continue quietly, somehow needing her to understand what Elena never will. “I didn’t just want an angel or heart or something. I wanted a work of art, something that no one else would ever have. I wanted everyone who saw it to understand how beautiful she was. How much she was loved. I just…” My voice is quivering too much now. The words stop, and I finally dare a glance at her, even though I know it’s a mistake as I let it happen. I know once we see each other in this moment there is no going back from it. The tears are so heavy in my chest now, I’m not sure the words that got stuck will come out.

  “Holland, I...” I search her eyes, silently pleading for something I don’t even understand. “I made sure everyone who passes this rock knows how amazing she was. I just wish she had known that in life. I’d give anything to have the chance to explain why her headstone is so incredible.”

  I lose the battle with my tears then, and she wraps her arms around me. I cling to her with a desperation that silences us, the air heavy with emotion we can’t even begin to sort through.

  “What if she didn’t know? It was my job to make sure she understood that!” I charge at the awful, thick cloud around us.

  Holland doesn’t respond, and I’m grateful. I don’t need lies right now; I just need to figure out how to move forward with the crushing reality that sometimes it seems like the wrong person gets the second chance.

  “You’re not broken, Luke. Just lost like the rest of us,” she says softly, and I clench my eyes shut at her familiar mantra. I know she had no idea what she was saying that first time she uttered those words. She couldn’t possibly have understood what she’d face if she braved this journey with me. She was being kind then, compassionate. The fact that she can repeat it now changes everything.

  “You’re amazing, Holland. You’re beautiful,” I whisper, pulling back and gazing into her eyes. “For as long as I’m alive you will know that.”

  Her own eyes fill with tears as she stares at me. I can tell she’s speechless, and I’m glad because I’m all out of words too. I kiss her gently instead before we turn back to Elena. Slipping my arm around Holland’s shoulders, I hold her against me, silent and still as we remember.

  ∞∞∞

  It’s not even lunchtime by the time we start to make our way back to the hotel, although it might as well be midnight for how exhausted I feel. I’m surprised, even slightly irritated, when Holland pulls out her phone and begins issuing new directions to the driver.

  “Where are we going?” I ask, starting to get nervous. I’m not sure I’m up for another adventure at the moment.

  “You’ll see.”

  I don’t respond, mostly because I don’t want to hurt her with the protest in my head, and stare back out the window. I’m confused when we pull up to a very average-looking shopping complex.

  “Want me to wait?” the cab driver asks.

  “No, it’s fine. We might be a while,” she says, paying the fare.

  The driver nods, and I hold out my hand to help her from the car.

  “I could have paid for the cab,” I mutter.

  “So could I.” Her grin manages to force a smile from my sour face.

  “So, what? We’re going to the mall?”

  “Kind of.”

  “Forgot your toothbrush or something?”

  “Luke, this is one of the few times in our relationship where I give you permission to shut your mouth.”

  I laugh then, I can’t help it, and she tugs my arm. “Let’s go!”

  I sigh and allow her to lead me toward one of the giant storefronts. I glance up and almost pull to a stop.

  “A music store? Holland…”

  “What did I just say?”

  I grunt as she yanks me toward the entrance.

  The store is nearly empty, which is bad enough, but even worse is the fact that we can tell the employees immediately recognize us. I guess we shouldn’t be surprised given the fact that our faces are probably plastered all over the wall of screens to the left all day, every day.

  “Hi, can you help us for a moment?” Holland asks the first slack-jawed, twenty-something we find in a uniform.

  “Uh, yeah. Hi…what…”

  “I’m Holland, this is Luke, and we’re interested in your acoustics. Can you let us into the display room?”

  He manages a nod and fumbles with his keys. “Um, yeah, this way. Do you need help? I mean, probably not. But if you have questions…I’m Tyler. I’ll be…” He tucks his hair behind his ears. “Over there.” He points to the counter, and Holland gives him a gracious smile.

  “Thanks, Tyler. We’ll let you know if we need anything.”

  He nods, but still hasn’t moved.

  I’m sure Holland notices, and it’s everything I can do not to laugh. “Oh, hey, Tyler?” Her smile turns from sweet to downright stunning, and I suppress my grin. This kid doesn’t have a prayer.

  “Any chance you could give us the room for an hour or so? Tell people it’s a private demo?”

  There is nothing on this planet that would make the guy deny her request, that much is obvious, and this time I have to escape to the display room to hide my amusement. Not surprisingly, Tyler is pretty sure that shouldn’t be a problem, and Holland is very grateful. She follows me in a few seconds later and we exchange a subtle grin. We know we’re on camera and don’t want to embarrass poor Tyler who’s been nothing but accommodating.

  “What’ll it be, rock star?” Holland asks, facing the giant wall of acoustic guitar models. “Ooo, check out this Taylor.”

  “We’re buying cheap guitars now? You dragging those on the flight back?”

  She rolls her eyes. “Oh, so now suddenly you’re a diva? Darling, this baby has an $8,000 price tag.”

  I grunt and have no choice but to take the instrument when she shoves it at me. Even my worst pout wouldn’t risk an eight thousand dollar guitar. I have to admit it feels really nice in my hands.

  “The action is great,” I mumble, testing out a few chords.

  “It’s got a sweet finish.”

  “Yeah, I can see that. Needs new strings, though. We should go find Tyler.”

  We don’t have to go far since he is hovering right outside the display room, pretending to unload the same three guitar tuners. We catch his eye and wave him in.

  “Hi, need something?” he asks.

  “Yeah, can you grab us a new pack of medium Elixers? Purple pack,” I say.

  He seems embarrassed. “Oh, shit, sorry. Those need to be changed?”

  “Yeah, man, no big deal. You must have some serious customers testing this out in here.”

  He smirks. “Yeah, everyone picks that one up, but no one actually buys it. I wish.”

  I study him for a second. “Why? You get commission or something?”

  He seems to blush a bit. “No, that would be awesome, though. Here, I’ll change those for you,” he adds, reaching for the guitar.

  “Thanks, man,” I say, handing it to him.

  I feel Holland’s gaze and glance back at her when Tyler disappears.

  “What?” I ask defensively.

  She just smiles to herself and shakes her head. “Nothing. I just see your brain working.”

  “My brain isn’t doing anything except trying to figure out why we’re locked in the display room of a chain music store.”

  She grins and grabs another guitar from the wall. “How about a Martin?”

  “What about my Taylor?”

  “Your Taylor’s getting worked on at the moment, relax. Try this one.”

  I sigh and take it from her. I like the feel of this one too, although both make me long for my ’43 Gibson. When we get back I will be craving some seri
ous alone time with my other girlfriend. I love that Holland will be more jealous of me than the guitar.

  “Ok, so now what?”

  She shrugs. “So now you play.”

  “Huh?”

  “That was confusing?”

  I roll my eyes. “Um, this whole thing is pretty damn confusing.”

  “You need music, Luke.”

  “I know, but…”

  She shakes her head. “No, you don’t know. You don’t even understand what music is to you. What it does for you. You think you control the music, but it controls you, and you need to let it right now. So play.”

  “Play what?” I cry in exasperation.

  “I don’t care! Anything!”

  “Holland, come on…”

  She gives me a hard look and moves to the door. “Tyler, how are those strings coming?”

  “Still have a couple more.”

  “No problem. What’s your favorite Night Shifts Black song?”

  We watch Tyler just about drop his $8,000 guitar. “Um…’Better Get Back.’”

  “Oh, nice! Hockey fan, huh?”

  He grins and nods. “Go Wings!”

  “Thanks, Ty.”

  She closes the door and returns.

  “’Better Get Back.’ Go.”

  I’m still staring at her in disbelief. “This is crazy.”

  “No, what’s crazy is the fact that one of the most incredible musicians of our generation is so shut off from his own gift that he’s embarrassed to play his own song in front of his girlfriend.” She moves to the stool beside me. “Please, Luke, just trust me. You’ve had a brutal couple days. You need this. You need to let the music be more than music.”

  I have no idea how to argue with that and finally give up the fight. I adjust the guitar in my hands and grip the neck. Drawing in a deep breath, I stare at the opposite wall and start to play.

  As the music comes out, the world begins to melt away like it so often does. It’s not a different reality; it just feels different, more possible. It’s the same way I feel when I’m on stage, when I’m writing, when I jammed with Percy alone in my room while my mom and her boyfriend screamed at each other in the kitchen. Like the life that I could have is right there, right at my fingertips, and when I play I actually get to touch it for a few brief seconds.