Be Your Savior: The Be Yours Trilogy #2

by Fox, Lizzie

  Then, I began a contemporary romance, and even though it felt pretty good and seemed to flow all right, I noticed that the characters sounded a bit too much like Seth and I. I thought it would be a wise choice to keep away from that. I’d already written enough real life, I didn’t need any more.

  I’d pushed the baby-thing out of my mind. After several conversations with Shane and Victoria, they both reminded me of what I already knew: Adam was probably full of shit. And Seth and I were both healthy, so there should be no reason there should be any issues, even if I was a little bit older.

  When I started to get a bit down, I went to the wedding venue’s website and checked out the pretty photos from couples who’d used them to get married. They all seemed so beautiful, I was starting to get really excited; even though my dress nor Seth’s ring were ready yet.

  Aside from what was on the website, I didn’t know too much more about it; Shane was taking care of everything, claiming it was his and Anthony’s wedding present to us. As such, even though we technically weren’t having a bridal party, I was planning to ask Shane to be my “best man” or whatever you would consider your male “maid of honor.” Neither Victoria or Kieran could make it, and after everything he’d done for us and for Seth over the past however long, I was planning to ask him anyway.

  Which led us to today. Seth and I walked into Ian’s studio, the Wednesday after the “ordeal” at First Avenue, and Quin immediately let out a huge, thunderous applause, making Seth blush profusely.

  “There he is—everyone’s favorite jailbird!” Quin kidded. Seth hadn’t seen Quin since the hospital so even though it was old news to everyone else, Quin took no time getting his digs in.

  “Funny, Quin. Real funny. I’d say lack of sleep has turned you into a real dick, but you always were one, so…” Seth set his guitar on a stand and shrugged indifferently, winking at me coyly from under the fringe of black hair on his forehead.

  “How many times did you drop the soap, Archer, huh?” Quin said with a snort, and I watched Seth flip from tolerant to pissed in a split second. Oh shit… with the week he’s had…I wouldn’t put it past him to lay into Quin for that one.

  “Fuck you, Greenway. So help me, I—” Seth began to close the distance between them, but I grabbed his arm tightly before he could get in his face—which is exactly what he wanted to do. Seth tried to pull his arm away, but when I threaded my fingers with his and brought his hand to my lips, he softened somewhat, realizing he was probably overreacting.

  “Dude, I know you think you’re being funny, but that guy was the biggest prick I’ve seen since like…oh, I don’t know. Ever?” Shane emerged from the small studio, balling up a sheet of paper and tossing it at Quin. “And trust me,” he continued, shooting me a sidelong smirk, “I know pricks. Big ones, small ones—Adam Tremaine is the biggest one of them all.” Trying to placate the situation, Shane leaned over, gave Seth a slobbery, wet kiss on the cheek and gently slapped his back. “Proud of you for putting that asshat in his place.”

  “Dude. How many times I gotta tell you, I don’t swing that way?” Seth kidded playfully, wiping off his face with the back of his hand and smearing Shane’s drool back on his arm. Shane just laughed and shook a warning finger in Quin’s direction. And thankfully the moment of rage was gone.

  “I think you need a nap, man.”

  Quin groaned, slapping his hands over his face. “Yeah, I know. Jewel is definitely not a sleeper like Bella was. She screams half the night long. It’s torture. Just wait, guys,” he said, pointing at the three of us: Seth, Shane, and I. “It’s not easy. You’re lucky I’m as jovial as I am.”

  I glanced at Seth, expecting him to look panicked, or something. Instead, he surprised me by just shrugging.

  “Eh, we’ll deal with it. What else can you do?”

  I thought Quin’s jaw was going to fall right off his face, but Seth ignored his reaction and turned to Shane. “Ian in there?”

  “Yep,” Shane replied, everyone purposely ignoring the elephant in the room: the topic of babies. “But that’s why I’m out here. He wants to see, you, Jess.”

  “Me?” I asked, surprised.

  “Yeah, something about the lyrics of that one you just sent him.” He nodded his head through the door.

  “Okay…” The studio was cramped, especially with the band, Shane, and myself in there, so I squeezed past Seth, friskily slapping his ass as I walked by. “Behave yourself,” I admonished, giving him my most serious, school-teacher look that for some dumb reason seemed to drive him a bit crazy. His eyes darkened slightly, and he shot me a lascivious smirk.

  “Whatever you say, mistress.”

  “Okay, that’s kinda hot,” Shane quipped, and Seth and I both laughed, slugging him easily in the arms.

  I opened the door and closed it behind me; both Ian and Anthony had headphones on as they spoke to each other. I could hear parts of one of their songs being formed and mixed together as they sat in front of a large desk full of switchboards, computer screens, and keyboards. In front, a large glass panel revealed the rest of the room where Quin and Seth were now sitting together, bullshitting, and Shane was walking about the small area, straightening things up in true Shane OCD perfectionist fashion.

  Ian glanced up and noticed. “Oh good, just who I wanted to see. Anthony?”

  “Right.” Anthony had a stack of paper in his lap, and he rummaged through it and handed me three sheets of paper stapled together; it was my song, the one without a title that now hand one.

  “‘Chains’?” I turned the page and questioned him.

  “Keep going…” Ian said, gesturing to the page, and with a shrug, I continued.

  “Waiiiit. You turned it into a two-person vocal song? Who’s gonna sing the other part?” I drawled out, looking up at them.

  Ian and Anthony looked at each other and grinned, then looked back at me as understanding hit me.

  “Oh no. I don’t sing anymore. No way. You can have the song, but I’m not singing it.” I attempted to shove it back at them, shaking my head vehemently.

  “Why not? Seth said you sing, and it would be romantic!” Ian insisted, and I rolled my eyes and snorted.

  “Romantic? You’re a rock band! Romantic isn’t exactly the goal.” I retorted, and Ian laughed.

  “Um…Bon Jovi for starters? Like, every rock band has killer ballads that usually end up being their hugest hits!” Anthony interjected.

  “Jess. Hear me out. You know that post Seth made on Sunday? On the Facegram page?” He asked, raising an expectant brow.

  “Yeah, I was there. What’s your point?” I challenged, setting my hands on my hips and glaring at them both.

  “Did you read the comments under it?” Anthony asked.

  “No…Seth doesn’t like to read them.”

  Anthony laughed sharply. “You should. You really should. The majority of them are from people saying how romantic it was, and some people who knew Adam are coming out and saying—confirming basically—what an ass he is and how bad he treated you. You have like, the support of the entire Facegram community on the page. Everyone thinks it’s sweet.”

  My mouth parted in an ‘O’ of surprise. “Um…what? Does Seth know this?”

  “Not yet. But I know he’ll be on board for this,” Anthony insisted. “All of these photos have popped up of the two of you together at various shows over the past few months. You’re even trending in Wisconsin.”

  “Yeah, hashtag #sethalie.”

  “We have a hashtag?” I wanted to gag at the very notion.

  “Yes! People love you! A song between the two of you would be so popular—most people know you’re the one that’s written a bunch of the newer things, and this would just be fucking epic.” Ian said with a big smile.

  I groaned. “Oh, I don’t think it’s a good idea. I can’t perform on stage.”

  “That’s not what Seth says. He says you used to do solos and shit all the time, and you won awards back in Forest Lake,”
Anthony challenged, leaning back casually in the chair.

  “That was a long time ago. And... I haven’t hardly sung besides in the shower since Bl—” I began and promptly clamped my mouth shut.

  “Blake, right?” Anthony asked, and I nodded. “Did Blake think you were good?”

  “Well…yeah,” I replied hesitantly.

  “Would you have given up on it if he were still alive?”

  I raked my teeth over my bottom lip and looked away, avoiding his question.

  “Unh-huh. Just give it a try. If you hate it, or you’re truly terrible, we’ll scrap the whole thing. But I think this could be huge,” Ian persisted, and Anthony thrust the pages back at me.

  Reluctantly, I grumbled and snatched them away. “Fine. But let’s say it works…do I have to sing this on stage with you guys? I’m not sure I can…”

  “If you don’t want to, you don’t have to. We could record your voice or just skip it, or just use it for certain venues.” Anthony stood, clasping my shoulder as he looked down on me. “Just try it. Ian is the better instructor here. I’m gonna go make sure Seth and Quin aren’t killing each other.” He patted me twice, then motioned to his chair. It was still warm when I sat down unceremoniously, almost pouting.

  “Trust us, Jessie. It’ll be great. Now…” Ian pushed out and slid the wheeled chair over to a keyboard nearby. He pressed a few keys, and a steady, driving rock-ballad rhythm played. “Here’s the chorus.” With two hands he played a pretty strong melody, lightly singing the lyrics I had written, and I tilted my head to the side.

  “Okay…I like it. But that doesn’t mean I’ll like me.” He played it a few more times, and I found myself humming it even though I didn’t even mean to. I blushed when I was caught.

  “Just try it with me,” he requested, and with a groan I relented.

  “Fine. Just…I’m really out of practice.”

  “No big deal. It’s just us; I’m not going to laugh. Let’s start again…”

  “Oh fine.” He began playing a few bars before the chorus, and I cleared my throat while he began to sing…and nothing came out from me. I trembled and laughed uncomfortably.

  “Okay, okay. Let’s try something else. Just to get you back into it. Do you know any of ours? Or anything else? Who was your favorite artist in high school?”

  “Um, Evanescence?” I said, and he nodded.

  “That’s good, I know their stuff.” He began playing the opening notes to “My Immortal”. I knew it instantly. Somehow, he picked the one I just couldn’t resist.

  Reluctantly, I started singing. I was so quiet at first, the sound barely escaped my mouth, but as I went on, my confidence grew just a little. I glanced out the glass window to see if anyone noticed me, but no one was paying attention or could hear. By the time we got to the chorus, I’d cleared my throat a handful of times and missed a couple of words, but I was feeling a bit more confident.

  “Shit, Jess. You’re fucking fantastic!” Ian praised, shaking his head and nudging me gently in the arm. “Seth will love this!”

  “Yeah?” I blushed so hard I was sure my skin would melt right off my face.

  “Yes. I wouldn’t lie; this is our livelihood here. I think there is really something here.”

  “Hmm…can we keep it a secret?” I asked, with a sudden idea.

  “Not sure how that’s possible…he’ll have to sing the other stuff,” Ian said, looking at me strangely.

  “No, I know. Just say that you’re going to add Anthony or someone later. Whoever. If you really think it’s okay—I mean really, no bullshitting me—I want to do it for him as a wedding present. You think?” I asked hesitantly. “Too cheesy?”

  “Fuck no, Jess. I think that’s great. He’ll love it. It’ll be a great wedding and birthday present,” he insisted, and my eyes widened.

  “Oh shit. That’s right. His birthday is coming up.” I tapped my finger thoughtfully against my chin. “I’ll figure out something else for that.”

  “Okay then. That’s what we’ll do. But I’m not sure how you’re going to get here and keep it a secret from him?”

  I snorted, waving him off. “Oh, Shane is devious. I’ll make him come up with something.”

  Ian laughed. “All right. I’ll get this started. Can you come by like—tomorrow afternoon?”

  “I think so. I’ll text you.”

  “Sounds good. I’m not sure it’ll be totally done before the wedding but shortly after at least, for sure. I really think this will be great, Jess. Now go send your man in here, I’ve got to work on his vocals for this other stuff.” Ian held out a hand, and we shook slyly before I left.

  “What was that about?” Seth asked expectantly.

  “Oh. We were just trying to work on lyrics to one of the new things. No big deal,” I said with an easy shrug. “Your turn though, babe.”

  “Yeah, okay.” He offered me a quick kiss on the cheek that made me grin, as it was in front of everyone, and slapped a drowsy Quin in the arm, laughing as he picked up his guitar. The second he did, one of the strings snapped, and he groaned. “Fuck. Why does that keep happening?”

  “That’s what you get for taunting me. Quit being so cheap and buy a new one,” Quin retorted, and Seth turned briefly, flicking him off before taking his guitar into the studio, grumbling the entire way.

  “Hmm…” I sat down in Seth’s vacated seat and turned to Quin. “What is a good guitar to buy?”

  Quin shrugged. “You want to start playing? Well for a beginner I would—” I nodded towards Seth with an exaggerated motion. “Oh. For him. That’s right, his birthday. I’ll show you a few.” He pulled out his phone and opened the browser. Grinning smugly, he found a reasonably priced one with a brand name, in bright, lime green. “I’ll email you the link.”

  “Do it.”

  Hey, perhaps I wasn’t ahead of the game for writing, but at least I was on the way to making sure Seth had a happy birthday.

  15

  Jessalie

  “Seth?”

  “Hmm?”

  “Are you okay?” I asked, lightly touching his shoulder.

  Slowly, he opened his bleary eyes. “Why?”

  I frowned gently. “Because you’ve been asleep all day.”

  “Huh?” With a groan, Seth scrubbed his hands over his sleepy face, fingers making a scratching sound over the stubble on his jaw before he stretched his arms out to the side. I sat down next to him on his side of the bed, my legs hanging off the edge, and ran my fingers through his hair, grimacing gently. I didn’t care, but it was slightly greasy. He didn’t smell or anything, but Seth was usually fairly meticulous about showering, sometimes taking two a day. And it was clear between his hair, and the fact he hadn’t shaved in at least a week, that he’d been neglecting himself. Nothing terrible—at most it’d only been a couple of days, but for someone who never went more than a day without doing so, it was beginning to worry me.

  “You haven’t showered in a couple of days,” I pointed out. “You never do that.”

  He gave me a strange look, then fingered his dark hair, rubbing his thumb and fingers together after. He scowled. “No, I guess I haven’t. Do I smell?” He lifted his arms and sniffed in the direction of his pits. I laughed quietly, and pushed his arms down.

  “No, you don’t. I was just worried. Because you don’t normally do that,” I reminded him.

  “Yeah… sorry. I’ve been a bit tired,” Seth explained.

  “I know. I’m just…checking,” I said hesitantly.

  Seth defiantly folded his arms over his bare chest, his biceps gently flexing as he did. I resisted the urge to lick my lips because, even sleepy and a little sloppy, he was still the most gorgeous man I’d ever seen…and it’d been a couple of days since we’d been together. I nearly wanted to slap myself at the very idea. I went over a year celibate—not really by choice—so a few days? Nothing. Still…didn’t help that I craved him desperately, but this wasn’t the time to come on to him. He probably didn�
�t need that now. If he wanted it, he generally had no problems letting me know.

  “What, Jessie? You’re waiting for me to snap? Go nuts again? I’m fine, just tired. I don’t need a damned baby-sitter, okay?” He snapped with a thin-lipped sneer.

  Ouch. I flinched like I’d just been slapped in the face. Immediately, I slid off the bed, getting to my feet and narrowing my eyes at him.

  “Oh, I’m so sorry, Seth Archer. Forgive me for worrying the fuck about you, given your history,” I spoke sharply at him, his face reddening with every word I uttered, though I couldn’t tell if it was due to anger or embarrassment. His expression was otherwise stone-faced. “You know, I’ve dealt with this before. I know what a manic-low looks like, and it’s clear you’re heading towards one.”

  Seth laughed, derisive and shortly. “Oh, so you’re an expert, is that it? I’m fucking fine; I’ve just got a lot on my mind. You know, band shit, working with a Grammy artist, thinking about being possibly sued, a rap sheet and oh yeah—a wedding? Is it any wonder I’m on fucking edge? So if I want to sleep a little bit longer than normal, what the hell is the problem?”

  I set my hands on my hips, glaring down at him. I had the urge to say something pretty nasty, so I clenched my jaw, spun around and waved him off. “You know what? Fine. Take care of yourself.” On cue, the doorbell rang, and I gestured out the bedroom door, towards downstairs. “I have to let in your best friend and entertain him now since I know you’re not in any position to do so.”

  “Oh waaahh; Wes doesn’t need entertainment,” Seth snapped, getting out of bed and holding his fists at his sides. “Stop trying to make things worse.”

  “Nope, wouldn’t want to do that. You’ve got that shit covered.” Shaking my head in dismay, I passed through the doorway, grabbing the doorknob and slamming the door shut with such force, the wall shook. You’re not the only one with a bad temper, Seth Lewis Archer.