Davis

by INGRID HARRISON

  I waited with my heart beating so hard in my chest, my hands starting to shake.

  “No, of course not,” she said in exasperation. “I guess I am concerned whatever it is you feel for me will eventually…” she stopped.

  “Fade? Go away?” I said. “You don’t think that I feel the same way as you?” He blew out a big breath. “Hell Steph, I was thinking the same exact thing about you mere minutes ago, unsure of how you felt about me; praying your feelings for me hadn’t changed.”

  When she didn’t respond, I said, “I know it has been hard for me since you left. I either want to sleep all the time or I can’t sleep at all, and have this restless energy.”

  “Oh Davis, me too,” she said sadly.

  “Sunday can’t come soon enough for me.” I whispered fervently.

  “I’ll see you then,” she said softly, and then we ended the call.

  Emotionally, I was drained. I was concerned; because of that call and because I don’t think Steph truly understood how strong my feelings were. I just had to give her more time. It was still so early in our relationship, and we both were hesitant to get hurt. She had the ability to hurt me, I thought, and that was scary. Maybe that is what Steph was feeling right now.

  When my phone rang, I automatically picked it up and answered it. Listening to Leo on the other end, I hollered in delight. I tried to listen to his instructions, but my excitement was great. Finally, I hung up.

  My song moved up in the charts to #15! I was in disbelief, excitement and elation filled me.

  I thought about calling Steph, but then my phone rang again. For the next hour, it was like that. The calls kept coming in.

  Suddenly, my schedule had to be changed. I was need in Los Angeles for a photo shoot for a magazine spread, then they had scheduled me for a late night talk show for Monday night, and then there was another appointment with a top twenty radio program that wanted to feature me and my song With You.

  My head was spinning, and I still had to get to the theater for my show tonight. When I looked at the time, it was after 6pm and I was in route to the theater, and I knew it was too late to call Steph. She would already be at work.

  Sending her a quick text of:

  DAVIS: Hey, great news! My song moved up to #15 in the charts. It means some change in my schedule. I will call you tonight. D

  The atmosphere when I arrived at the theater was electric. We all were in a partying mood, wanting to celebrate our success. And it was a success as we all knew it wouldn’t stop at #15.

  We decided to hit a dance club after the concert was over, and continue with the celebrations. The feeling of elation caused me to drink too much, and none of us wanted the night to end. After we closed the club at 2am, we went back to Art’s room, and spent hours talking and planning.

  I know when I crashed in my room at 5am that I should call Steph, but I was exhausted, and still drunk so that when I felt the bed beneath my back, I was out, falling asleep immediately.

  I still felt drunk the next morning when Leo got me out of bed, urging me to get ready so we could catch a flight to the west coast. We had hired a private plane, and all the band members and I pretty much slept the entire way there.

  It wasn’t until I was in my hotel later that night that I finally texted Steph again, as once again it was too late to call as it was after 6pm in Georgia.

  DAVIS: Hey babe, sorry about last night. We were all in celebration mode. In California now, and Leo says we have a hectic schedule for the next few days. I will call you. D

  CHAPTER 15-STEPH

  I hadn’t heard from Davis since our long conversation on Friday, and it was now Monday evening. Sure, I received a couple of text messages, but no phone calls.

  I knew he was feeling a lot of excitement, and with his record making it into the top twenty meant some changes for him. I just wished the changes could have occurred after my trip to see him.

  I ached for him and missed him so much. I know I looked exhausted. Ever since we parted, I hadn’t been sleeping well. Perhaps I was already use to having him in my bed and missed sleeping with him? Whatever the reason, it meant that I had been able to paint every room in my small apartment, but instead of allowing me to get some sleep I was dealing with muscle aches from all the work.

  And it wasn’t only the lack of sleep. It was more than that. I had seen a photo of Davis at a night club from Friday night, and he had his arms around two women. I had been on the web, trying to look up if his song had moved up in the charts when I saw the photo.

  I told myself they were only fans, but the caption below the pictures made me feel sick. The writer alluded to Davis’s single status, and that he was still looking for Mrs. Right.

  I wouldn’t let the pictures bother me. Hell that was the same day Davis had told me how strong he felt about me. I wouldn’t believe he would do anything to jeopardize our relationship.

  The lack of phone calls was concerning though. I did try calling him one time, but he didn’t answer, so I had only left a brief message, letting him know I was happy for him and would talk to him soon. But that was a couple of days ago now, and still he hadn’t called.

  I wouldn’t allow myself to keep calling him. I knew he was busy. He would call me when he could.

  I think what hurt the most was my plans to see him on Sunday in Nashville. Davis never mentioned it at all in his texts, just that he was heading to the west coast for a few days.

  When Sunday came, and he didn’t answer my call, I called the airlines to see if a ticket had been left there for me as planned, but there was no ticket waiting for me. I knew then that our plans had changed. I just wished he could have called me and maybe apologized for the change in plans or something.

  I guess what really set me off was the call I just received from my mom. She was concerned for me, and at first, I wasn’t sure why.

  “Well, it’s obvious you’re not with him. I just saw him on the show Star Tracks and they showed him with another woman at some event or other last night,” she replied.

  “I guess you two already broke up?” she continued.

  I didn’t know what to say, and so I made some excuse about needing to go and hung up. I had been sitting here ever since in a state of shock.

  Were we broken up, I thought sickly? He just stops calling, so I have to assume we are done? My head screamed at me no, but what else was I supposed to think? I suppose I could explain away him attending an event with another woman. I mean, he has to have a date at these functions, and I wasn’t there.

  Yeah Steph, you’re not there, and you were never asked to come with him, my head taunted me.

  But I had put my trust in him. Oh, I know I said I couldn’t, but I did trust him with my heart. Was I just being like every other woman assuming my man cared about only me, and could never cheat on me? Because I felt like Davis would stay true to me, even with all the evidence that was stacking against him.

  But my nerves were stretched to the limit, and the restless energy was making it miserable sitting in my apartment alone. I still had to get through Tuesday and Wednesday, and imagining spending the next two days sitting home alone was unthinkable.

  I still had a lot of projects to do inside my apartment, but I needed to rest by body. Overexertion had caused aches down my back and in my legs, and I knew I needed to slow it down.

  Maybe I should do what one of my articles always suggested and find some points of interest and explore. There were plenty of things in the Savannah area I could do that sounded interesting. I could spend the night at the coast and just walk on the beach, or look through the stores there or any number of things.

  All of those things sounded nice, but I just wanted to lie in my bed and cry. Cry for missed opportunities, cry about missing Davis and cry about feeling a loneliness I couldn’t seem to shake.

  But I wasn‘t the type to wallow in self-pity, I reminded myself. Forcing determination, I went to my closet, pulling out a small duffel bag.

  I wo
uld pack some clothes for a couple of days and see where I ended up, I decided. A road trip, of sorts, with destination unknown; anything to get me away from the emptiness of my apartment.

  Packing enough clothes for a couple of days, I went into the bathroom, grabbing my toothbrush, my brush, makeup, deodorant and my birth control pills.

  I had three nights before I had to come home, I thought and I felt a wave of melancholy come over me again. This time last week I was with Davis. Now, I was alone again, and my future seemed so bleak, I wiped my eyes of the tears that formed there.

  Forcing them back, I reminded myself again that I knew this was going to happen. I warned myself but instead, made the decision to take whatever I could have with Davis, so that I would have the memories.

  And the memories were good, I reminded myself cheering up a bit. I had never been happier, and if I hadn’t spent time with him, I would never have known such happiness, right?

  Hauling my bag into the kitchen, I grabbed a jacket out of a small closet by the front door. Unlikely that I would need it, but better bring it just in case, I thought.

  It was already after 7pm, and anyone else would think I was mad, leaving on a road trip so late, with darkness falling. And perhaps it was foolishness, but I couldn’t stand my own company another minute.

  As I grabbed my phone and keys, I took one last look around my apartment and turned and walked out the door.

  It was as I was getting in my car, and turning on the ignition that my phone rang. I looked at the screen, and saw Davis’s name. My stomach clenched, and I contemplated not answering, but then with a sigh I touched the green circle on my screen.

  “Steph? Is that you?” Davis said into the phone.

  “Yes, Hi Davis, how are you?” I asked quietly.

  “I am so sorry Steph,” he said urgently in the phone. “It’s been so crazy lately, that I…well, you don’t want to hear my excuses,” he said in frustration.

  “It’s OK Davis. I know your life is crazy right now. But it’s a good crazy, right?” I said to him encouragingly, forgetting my own upset, just because I was talking to him. I was in turmoil.

  All he had to do is call me, and I felt like I would do anything he asked of me. How weak was that? Shouldn’t I be confronting him about the picture I saw and what my Mom had seen? Or just forget about them, believing they were all innocent? Or did I even want to know the truth?

  And what kind of a woman was I that I didn’t want to know the truth? Was I being too trusting or not trusting enough? And shouldn’t I tell him how upset I was with him?

  Was I avoiding a touchy subject because I didn’t want argue with him and potentially lose him?

  “Where are you? You sound like you’re in a tunnel?” he asked.

  “I’m sitting in my car, parked near my apartment,” I said softly.

  “Where are you going?” Davis asked.

  That question hit me hard. Right, where was I going? Did I tell him anywhere but my lonely apartment? Anywhere to escape the grief I had been feeling?

  I sighed. “Why are you calling me now?” I asked instead, avoiding his question.

  “Because I wanted to hear your voice, and because I wanted to apologize and because I miss you so damned much,” he said huskily.

  I leaned my head down on the steering wheel, so unsure how to respond to him. Did it make me the biggest fool to just forget his lack of contact with me in the last few days, forget the upset he caused me; forget his broken promises to see me in Nashville?

  Or was I being understanding? He had gotten unexpected news, and had to leave town. That in itself wasn’t surprising. Hadn’t I been expecting that to happen? I knew his song was great, and I knew it would rise further in the charts.

  “I don’t know what to say,” I said hoarsely, raising my head up and looking out the window of my car.

  “Tell me you accept my apology? Tell me you forgive me?” he asked gravely.

  I started laughing, but it wasn’t a joyous laugh. It was me laughing because no matter if I stood my ground, told him how much he had hurt me or if I accepted his apology and we got together again, I couldn’t win.

  Sure, I would get Davis for a little while again, until he forgot about me again. Or I could tell him this wasn’t working, that I didn’t trust him enough to continue our relationship. Either way, I lost.

  I am not sure when my laughing turned to sobs, but they wouldn’t stop. I tried to hold them back, I did, but I just couldn’t. I closed my eyes, willing the tears to stop, trying not to sniffle into the phone, unable to bear him knowing I was crying.

  When the door to my car opened, it surprised me but when I saw Davis standing there, I was stunned. The hand holding the phone to my ear slowly dropped into my lap, my mouth open in a surprised gasp.

  “Come on baby, let’s go inside,” he said gently, tugging me out of the car. When he leaned in, and turned off my car and was going to shut the door, I shook myself out of the stupor I was in and I said, “I need my bag.”

  He looked around, and saw the large duffel bag on the passenger seat, pulling it out of the car. That’s when I noticed he too had a duffel bag, which he leaned down and picked up off the ground by its handle. Locking the door, he shut it and grabbed my hand, gently pulling me towards my apartment.

  I shoved my phone in my pocket, using my free hand to wipe the tears off my face. I saw him looking down at me, but I wouldn’t meet his eyes. How could I? I felt so embarrassed allowing him to see me cry.

  Why hadn’t he told me he was in town? If I had left a little sooner, I would have missed him entirely. Instead, he had heard and seen my complete breakdown.

  Neither of us spoke as we climbed the stairs. I watched as he took my keys and unlocked the door, holding the door open for me. As soon as I was in the house, he shut and locked the door.

  “Where do you want your bag at?” he asked me quietly, while I turned on the light in the living room and turned towards him.

  “Just leave it there,” I said softly, unsure what to do or to say.

  He let it go and it dropped on the floor with a plop, landing right next to his bag and then he walked to me slowly. I felt tremors starting as I watched him coming closer.

  He stopped before me and his hand reached up, softly stroking underneath my eyes. “Haven’t you been sleeping?”

  His question surprised me and I finally looked up into his eyes. The look of pain in his eyes shocked me so when I felt him pull me into his arms, I didn’t fight him.

  He held me so tight, his cheek resting on the top of my head. The feel of his arms around me again felt so good, I couldn’t stop myself from wrapping my arms around him, pressing my face into his chest.

  The smell of him, so unique, filled my nostrils, and I felt myself relaxing, a calm coming over me. This is where I wanted to be. I knew that; had always known that.

  His head lifted, no longer on top of my head and I looked up at him. “I am so sorry,” he repeated.

  “I know,” I responded, because I could see that in his expression, feel it from the intensity of his words.

  He looked like he wanted to say more, but he kept quiet, just looking at me.

  “Have you eaten?” he asked, his hands stroking both of my arms, moving rhythmically up and down.

  “No,” I admitted.

  “Well, then, I think you need to eat, whether you are hungry or not. You look like you have lost some weight,” he remarked eyeing me suspiciously.

  “I’ve been busy,” I said, my chin raising.

  His head swiveled around, looking at the living room and then towards the kitchen.

  “Looks like you finished painting,” he said with a smile. “And if I was a betting man, you probably did it all yourself.”

  I hit him playfully on the arm. “I had some free time,” I said folding my arms, now eyeing him suspiciously.

  “Hey,” he chuckled, “I didn’t have any choice. Duty called.” His face suddenly got so serious looking. “But
I missed you like hell.”

  He stepped closer, raising his hands to cradle my head while he lowered his mouth to mine. His lips were so soft, seductively stroking mine so that I couldn’t help responding.

  And when I would have deepened the kiss, his mouth lifted. He gazed at me with such emotion, before pressing his mouth on mine again, rubbing his lips against mine with such tenderness.

  It was as if he was slowly memorizing the feel and texture of my lips, savoring me. I could tell he was leashing his passion, as if his purpose was something different then foreplay. His hands ran slowly through my hair as if caressingly and yet explorative, as if he was familiarizing himself with my body.

  As hard as I tried to leash my desire for him, I couldn’t help my moan of frustration, my mouth closing over his bottom lip, sucking him into my mouth. Urgency for him washing over me, as my passion for him surged.

  My hands needed to feel his skin, and I burrowed beneath his t-shirt, caressing the hard curves of his stomach, stroking upward. It had been so long since we had been together, and my body ached for the possession of his.

  I tried to express my need through my urgent touches, my mouth eagerly stroking his and with my tongue, stroking the seam of his lips. His harsh breathing told me he was feeling it too, so I was surprised when he pulled away. He took a couple of deep breaths, as if to steady his breathing.

  “Christ Steph, I wanted to show you how much you mean to me tonight,” he said throatily. “Show you that I want so much more than just sex with you.”

  I looked at him in confusion, my hands digging into my stomach.

  “I thought I would take you out on a real date, just you and me. Spend the time talking and bonding…” he stopped suddenly. “Damn, I just don’t want you to think I want to be with you for only one reason and one reason alone.”

  Realization hit me. For a moment, I thought he was pulling away from me because he wasn’t feeling it like me. Instead, he was telling me he wanted more than just sex with me.

  A smile started on my face, growing bigger and bigger.