by Scott, S. L.
His heart pounds heavy in his chest, his body hard with tension. “What will you say?”
Lifting my chin, I rest it on him, wanting to see his face. “Don’t you want to hear about it?”
“Of course, I do. But ultimately, what you think is all that matters. You’re incredible and intelligent. They’d be lucky to have you. How do you feel about the opportunity?”
“I’m not sure. It was sprung on me, and as you said, it’s only November.”
“You have my support if it’s something you want, doing what you enjoy.”
“I want your input.”
“Okay,” he says, exhaling. “Where is it?”
“Austin.”
“No.”
The response earns him a little laugh, but he’s not laughing. “Just no?”
“You wanted my input. I want you here. Not there. Told you I’m selfish.”
I rest my head back down, listening to the sound of his steady heartbeat. “I’m going to say no.”
“Why?” His warm hand slides up my back and down again as if he’s unaware he’s doing it.
“Because I can’t commit to June before we’ve even reached Christmas.”
“Make sure you decide based on what’s best for you.”
When I wanted his input, I didn’t realize how much hearing it would mean to me. You’re incredible and intelligent. They’d be lucky to have you. He isn’t only confirming that whatever I’ll choose, he’ll be there, he’s also validating us, and that’s everything.
I nod and then shift, turning away from him, wanting to be held. When his arm comes over me, and I’m buried in the nook of his body, I say, “Thank you.”
“For what?” For being amazing and supporting me unconditionally.
“For listening, but also for letting me work through it.” I feel at peace, so it’s easy to snuggle in and relax. This man is good for me. “Good night, Dave.”
His breath covers my shoulder and then his lips. One kiss. Two. Then he whispers, “Good night, Meadow.”
30
Ridge
“Hey.”
The sound of that sweet melody leads me to Meadow. Innocence I wish the world still had is found in her green eyes. I ask, “How long have you been awake?”
“I just woke up, but I called your name, and you didn’t hear me. Lost in thought?”
Running my hand through my hair, I glance back at the city before I try to shake myself out of the sorrow of my thoughts. “Yeah. Sorry.”
“You don’t have to apologize. Are you all right?”
“Don’t worry about me. You have enough of your own.”
“You’re my boyfriend, Dave. Of course, I worry about you.”
“I wish you wouldn’t.”
“I like thinking about you, but you know what I like more? Talking to you and when you’re talking to me.”
“I like talking with you as well. I know I’m not saying anything new, but I wish you went to school here.”
“When I’m here, I’m all here, so maybe it’s just me, but I’m glad we don’t have to divide our time. As much as I miss you, you see how busy I am when you visit. I feel bad when I have to study and you’re left alone on the couch.”
“I don’t. I can play my guitar and watch you for hours.”
“Now that you say it,” she says, batting those long lashes at me, “I like you anyway I can get you.”
I squat down next to the pallet where I’ve lain with her, loved her, and held her for hours. “This bed would have been the best I could have given you two years ago. Now I’ve locked my Rapunzel away in this castle, wanting to keep you all to myself. Your friends must hate me.”
“Darcy doesn’t complain since she’s in England. As for others, Stella was the one I used to hang out with. My other relationships have just sort of faded away over the years. They’re focusing on school like I am or caught up in their boyfriends . . . like me.” Her eyes shift to mine. “I can’t really tell people about us, so I’ve learned to not open up at all.”
“We’re not a dirty secret.”
Sitting up, she wraps her arms around her knees. “I know. But as you know already, I have trust issues. So it’s just easier for me to keep my circle smaller, but I’m not missing out on anything if that’s what you’re thinking. All anyone seems to do is go to parties, get wasted, and hook up with each other.”
I’ve dealt with my fair share of drunken college kids while playing down on Sixth Street. “Yeah, probably best to keep that circle small.” I crack half a smirk.
“I’m feeling that may not be genuine, but I get it.” She laughs. “Anyway, if you’re worried about me, don’t be. I like it here with you.”
Never wanting her to regret anything, I say, “If you want to go to parties, you can.”
“I know. Just like you can. You can also talk to me about your shows. You never seem to say much. How was Australia and New Zealand?”
“It was awesome. Seeing fans halfway across the world love our songs was incredible. But, I get up there, I perform, and I walk off. As much fun as I have up on that stage, it’s the music I still connect with. I can do that anywhere.” A heavy breath gets the better of me. “I used to dream of traveling. I’ve been everywhere, but I’m happier being here with you.”
“Do you wish you could just play without touring?”
“No, I like playing for an audience. There’s an energy I can’t get in a studio. But the road wears on you after a while. Even if you’re traveling first class.”
“First class? You mean private.” She clicks her tongue as she winks.
“Both are nice, but they’re not you.”
Getting to her knees, she looks at me for answers of a different kind. “So what you’re saying is that you care about me?”
“I more than care about you.”
“I love you.”
Lightning strikes, reviving my heart and making it race. I drop to my knees in front of her and hold her face. “You love me?”
The smallest of nods is followed by the softest of answers, “I do. I love you.” Tears fill her eyes as her heart bleeds for me.
Kissing one cheek, tasting her tears, and then the other, I kiss her all over and then her lips to which I whisper, “I love you, Meadow Soleil. I love you so much that it hurts when you go away. It hurts to talk to you with miles and states keeping us apart. It hurts so much that I closed off my heart, trying to protect it from the ache that only exists in your absence.” I kiss her chin and that tiny little dimple at the top of her cheek. “I love you. I love you.”
“I love you.”
* * *
The soundtrack to Magnolia fills the suite just loud enough for it to waft into the bathroom. “Save Me” plays, fitting our day. I sit on the edge of the tub, next to where her feet are propped up. Rubbing the side of her ankle, I watch her as she watches me.
Messy hair stacked on top of her head allows me the privilege of seeing that beautiful swan-like curve of her neck, her shoulders glistening from the heat of the water as she soaks.
Wiping my hand down a towel, I return to the neck of my guitar and strum along to the song. The notes are simple, the rhythm easy to follow, but I like the beat.
She sets her glass down and takes her hair down. Dipping under the water, she comes up, her pretty face clean of makeup and smiling. Sparkles in her eyes that love makes shine like stars. “Come in,” she says, sitting up and running her wet hand along my dry thigh.
“How badly do you want me?” I sing.
She sings to me, “Badly because we’re meant to be.”
I set the guitar down and slip right inside, sending water splashing over the edge of the large tub. Her laughter fades when I tug her onto my lap. Sitting high on top of me, my gorgeously soaking wet goddess smooths my hair back while staring into my eyes, and asks, “Why do you love me?”
I chuckle. I should have known it was coming. Let’s discuss our feelings. Women love that. For her, I’ll not onl
y tell her because she asked, but because she’s given me so much, opened herself like a flower blooming for me. The woman who feared intimacy is sharing herself with me. “Because you’re hot.”
The whack is fast, but it doesn’t hurt. I still play it up, though. “Ow, my shoulder. Careful, slugger. I have to make a living with this arm, you know.”
“Don’t tease. Tell me.”
I angle her slick body into my arms and hold her so she’s warm under the water. “I did tell you, but that was just my first thought when I saw you.”
“What was your second?”
“That I wanted to fuck you.”
She’s too slow this time. I block the shot with my forearm. “You’re terrible, Dave Carson. You know that? Just awful.”
“Awfully cute,” I reply with a wink.
She rolls her eyes and smiles. Resting her back on the side of the tub, she clearly wants a better answer by the way she’s staring at me. So I give her my best, like she deserves. “Because you gave me something you’ve never given anyone else.”
“What’s that?”
“Your heart.”
I could give the hot bath the credit, but I prefer to take it for causing the heat to reach her cheeks. Leaning her head back, she says, “Sometimes I think you got me while I was young, too naïve to know what I’m missing.”
“You’re not missing anything out there but a bunch of heartache. Your best bet is sticking with me, baby.”
“I like you sticky.” She’s incredibly cute, and I love that, but I think she needs me to affirm her. To show her that I see her, and what I see I love. Her parents were so fucking wrong, and I need her to know my heart is hers, now and forever.
“I love you because you might hide your fears, but your heart is still open. I love you because when I’ve had a bad day, hearing your voice makes it better. But most of all, I love you because I don’t have to prove myself to you. You’ve given me yourself and loving you is the best thing I’ll ever do, Meadow Soleil. Your heart, your trust, and your support are everything to me.”
Her lips are parted, her breath deepening has her hand covers her chest. “That’s the most beautiful thing anyone’s ever said to me.”
“It shouldn’t be.” I could go on and on about what I love about her.
I love her because for the first time in my life, I have someone worth fighting for.
“It is,” she says, smiling gently. The heat of her hand warms my cheeks as she gazes at me with watery eyes. “My heart is in your hands.” Easily slipping around on my lap, she straddles me again and wraps her arms around my neck. “Don’t hurt me, okay?”
“Never, but I’m asking the same of you.”
“You’re too tough to be hurt.”
“I’m too tough to be hurt by anyone but you.”
I love her for always seeing me as Dave, the same guy I was before the fame, and the same guy I get to be when we’re together. “You’re the only one who can do damage that can’t be undone. Protect my heart like your own.”
While I rest my head back, she leans down and kisses me. “I promise. And I always keep my promises.”
The woman I’m madly in love with is in love with me.
I love her bravery, her strength, her passion for life.
Life is more than good. Life is grand.
* * *
“My mom has cancer.”
The sheets rustle, the only sound in the room when Meadow turns to face me in bed. We left the curtains open, so I can see my sleeping goddess in the moonlight.
I wait for her to say something, but I think she’s waiting for me, so I continue to ramble, “This is new. Talking about it with you. I . . . uh. I was thinking our time together couldn’t be touched by tragedy if I kept it out of our conversations, our visits, our space. But it’s here, inside me, stuck to my ribs and creeping through my chest when I don’t give it the attention it demands. My mind is always partially there, which is a disservice to you and this time together I was trying to protect.”
“I’m sorry.” She touches me on the shoulder and moves closer.
“People say that, but no one’s sorrier than I am. She gave me my first guitar after I took lessons as an elective. My dad said it was a waste of money since it wouldn’t lead me to a ‘real’ career.” I laugh without humor.
“He must be proud of you now.”
“I was supposed to take over the law firm.”
“Your dad’s a lawyer?”
“It was his dream for me to follow in his footsteps. I had to work in the mailroom during the summer in middle school and high school until my junior year.”
“What happened then?”
“I joined my first band, and we weren’t half bad. Booked gigs, which was a good thing since he refused to give me spending money. Back then The Crow Brothers were making their own name. We’d run into each other around town and even did a few shows on a Texas tour once.”
She smiles. She always does when she hears stories about them. It’s like the five years the Fellowes sisters were out of the picture, they still weren’t far. Family. Time and distance don’t erase a bond.
“About your mom, what options are there?”
“My cousin is helping her decide on treatments. She’s leaning toward surgery.”
I didn’t realize how much I was holding in until I shared. After asking questions that show her honest interest, she waits patiently as I gather the words, attempting to unlock the pain a little and allow her to hold it with me.
“I don’t know much about treatments or what happens, but I’ll help however I can. I’m in Austin when you’re not. If I can do anything—”
“I’ll let you know.”
“You’re not going through this alone now, Dave. I’m here. I’m always here.” God, her words bring more comfort to my soul than I knew I needed. I’m already in love with her, but I feel her love so boldly without her saying the words.
Girlfriend almost doesn’t seem enough for what she means to me. I touch her because she’s too goddamn beautiful not to. The skin behind her ear is her most ticklish, so I touch there just to see her smile again. She asks, “You never talk about that band and avoid any questions about it. Why?”
“Because my best friend slept with my girlfriend and then beat up his girlfriend when she got mad.”
Her thoughts cloud her eyes, and she looks away. “That’s Hannah, right? The girlfriend he beat up?”
I nod, not sure what else to say. Feels like it’s all been said before.
Tipping her head back, she kisses me under my chin. “You’re one of the good guys, Dave.”
“If I’m so good, why is this happening to my mom? I’d trade my life for my mom’s.”
“She’d trade hers for you.”
“She would. I had a good childhood. My dad can be an asshole. He’s a lawyer, after all, so he likes to argue his point into the ground. I learned at a young age to let him and to just keep my opinions to myself.”
“Don’t,” she says, kissing the edge of my jaw. “I want to hear you. I want to know how you feel and what you think. Don’t ever stay quiet with me.”
She’s offering me something that only my mother and then Hannah have given me. Giving me a safe place to vent my troubles, lay my burdens, and ease my mind. Hannah’s life is so full, I don’t dare bring my worries into her world. She doesn’t need more piled on.
My mom . . . It didn’t matter what I did as long as I was happy. I could sit with her and have coffee, tell her how hard I was struggling, but she’d point out the light in my eyes—that spark of passion—that I was still pursuing my dreams. I’d leave the coffee shop more motivated than ever to keep going, keep pushing, and to make it work. Her slipping me money wasn’t bad either.
I can’t tell her that she’s the one I’m worried about. She knows and doesn’t need to think about me worrying about her.
Looking at Meadow, I realize what she’s offering me even if she doesn’t. She’s giving me the
haven, a safe place to share the fears and concerns I keep buried inside. She’s giving me more than her heart. She’s giving me something so real: deep and true love.
I happily give her the same.
She’s also charming me with her sweetness. “Same goes for you, sunshine.” I bring her onto me, wanting to feel her body on top of mine. This isn’t about sex. It’s about the intimacy she’s giving and the physical closeness I need. I stroke my hand over her bare back and lower, and then wrap her in my arms, holding her to me so I can feel her breath against my skin. “So now you know.”
“Thank you for sharing with me.”
“I was thinking I could take you to meet her and my dad next time I’m in Austin.”
When I feel her smile against my chest, I know she’s accepting all of me instead of just a piece of my life. “I’d like that.”
* * *
I shush the room service guy when he pushes the tray inside the suite. Even though I shut the bedroom door, I don’t want to risk waking her. Meadow needs the rest before she returns to Austin. I know for a fact she stays up to not only study but also to talk to me. I owe her a few Z’s.
As soon as he’s gone, I hear, “What are you up to, rock star?”
“Hungry, cherry cheeks?” And there they are, matching the blush at the base of her neck. “Nice shirt.”
She tugs it away from her chest and looks down. “This old thing. Eh, I found it lying around in the bedroom.” Coming toward me, she asks, “Hope you don’t mind?”
“Mind? I prefer.” I kiss her on the cheek as she tries to look around me at the table of goodies.
“Wow. Did you leave any food for the other guests?”
“No. What can I get you?”
Her hand slips under the hem of the shirt, lifting it up. “You’re fattening me up. Are you planning to eat me later?” As soon as the question is asked, she laughs. “I didn’t mean that way, but,” she says, winking, “I’m happy to oblige if you’re hungry. Again.”