Making the Move: Mill Street Series #2

by Calla, Jessica

  “You are?” She furrowed her brow as she studied me and hugged her bare leg, bent at the knee.

  Her question made me pause. Did she want me not to be happy? Did she want me to stop her?

  I took her hands and leaned onto my elbows, playing with her fingers. “You have dreams, Violet. Vienna was a great experience for you, and this, whatever it is, is a chance for you to follow those dreams.”

  “Yeah.” Her shoulders sagged, and she leaned forward too, looking down at our joined hands. “I almost said no. That I couldn’t leave…don’t want to leave…you.” She peeked up at me, then back down. Her hair fell over her shoulder and tickled my fingers. “But then, I remembered that I was on this mission to put myself first, right?”

  I hated that I completely understood. Hated that I wanted this for her so badly, and at the same time, I wished I could lock her up in my bedroom until she agreed to stay with me.

  “So,” she continued, “my audition is in two weeks, but I have to be on a plane to Vienna this weekend to join the group and practice. It’s just for a summer program, with the opportunity to extend, but for now, I’ll stay at the dorm with the people I met over fall semester.”

  Tobias. She’d posted a picture of the two of them when she was in Vienna for fall semester, and I’d thought my head would explode. Ollie hadn’t taken it too well either.

  “Oh.” It was all I could manage. “That’s great.” We sat in silence, with me focused on her fingers. “I guess I really do have to get you home then.”

  “Yep, for sure,” she said, with what I knew to be fake enthusiasm.

  “Violet. This is a good thing.”

  “I know. It’s just…” She squeezed my hand, and I met her gaze. “You really think I should take the audition?” She stared at me with big, wide eyes. “If I get it, I won’t be coming back.”

  When she peeked up at me, I had to look away. The lump in my throat had grown. Selfishly, I didn’t want her to take the audition because that meant she’d leave, but I couldn’t be the reason she passed up this opportunity. She’d already passed up Juilliard for Oliver and come to NJU instead.

  Pulling myself together, I channeled my love for Violet. The part of that love that, when Oliver started hanging out with Taryn, made me want to kick the shit out of him. Even when she wasn’t mine, I’d always, always, wanted her to be happy. “Absolutely you should take it.”

  I lifted her hand to my lips and kissed it, hoping she didn’t notice that it was shaking.

  Violet

  Packing up Josh’s apartment was horrible. Even worse was the drive to the King house for our final dinner with the family. Josh didn’t seem to want to talk. I didn’t want to talk. Going back to NJU after the amazing week we’d had was bad enough, but thoughts of being on different ends of the world made everything a thousand times worse.

  Although Josh had put on the classical music station “for inspiration,” the silence between us was killing me, so I pretended to sleep.

  I wasn’t sure what I was expecting when I’d told him about Dr. Goodson’s call, but when I thought about it, it made sense that he’d reacted the way he had. He was strong, independent. He may have loved me, but a relationship wasn’t the end goal for us. We’d said that from the start, even though somewhere along the way I’d fallen into a fantasy world of us being together for real.

  But I’d promised myself after Ollie—no more planning my life around men. “Man-planning,” as Rachel had termed it, was a thing in my past. Whether I loved Josh or not, he couldn’t be my future. What would he expect me to do? Live in Rambling, Virginia and teach violin? There were like twenty people in Rambling, and even if every one of them had a violin, I couldn’t imagine that being a music teacher would be a good career move.

  Charlamagne though. Charlamagne may have been the sweetest city I’d ever seen. Historical, college crowd, cafes, restaurants, there was a culture there that I could get on board with. I wondered if they had auditions for their symphony.

  I snapped my eyes open. Josh jumped when I bolted upright and reached for my phone. “What’s wrong?” he asked.

  “Sorry. I…I just wanted to check something.”

  I tapped the screen and searched Charlamagne VA symphony, then gasped at the results. Auditions were in another month. I could ask Dr. Goodson to send my CV and my recommendations.

  “You okay, Pix?”

  Leaning my head against the seat, I reached for his free hand and rubbed his fingers with my thumbs. I couldn’t do it. How could I even think of passing up the opportunity to be in Vienna? What if I stayed with him and regretted it ten, twenty years down the line? What if he didn’t even want me to be with him? What if what happened with Ollie happened with Josh, and then my world crumbled to the ground?

  I had to build my own world. That way, I was in control of whether or not it crumbled.

  He wedged his forearm between my legs, massaging my thigh as he drove. I’d miss the way his hands felt on me. Like they could completely crush me with one squeeze, but of course, he never would. “Are you happy to be going back to school tomorrow?”

  “Not one bit,” he answered, a sad smile on his face. “What about you?”

  “Same.” I let out a long sigh. “So what’s your verdict on Amelia and Dom?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “They’re the reason you came home in the first place.”

  He let go of my leg as he twisted to look out of his window and put on the blinker. “I almost forgot. Someone else distracted me.”

  Smiling, I felt my cheeks warm from thinking of all the way to distract him. “Real superheroes don’t get distracted.”

  “Maybe because real superheroes don’t have a sidekick as sexy as Violet Nicholson.” He glanced at me and winked. Letting out a long breath, he gripped the wheel. “On treehouse night, I promised myself that I’d try to let go. With you, with my sisters. I will try my best to loosen the grip and give up a bit of control. You said it yourself—hope they succeed, be the shoulder to cry on if they don’t.”

  “I think that you are the best brother in the world.”

  “Hardly.” He peeked at me. “What about you? What’s your plan when we go back tomorrow?”

  “I guess I’ll have to pack. Practice.” I glanced at the violin on the bench seat behind us. “Get my life together.”

  He nodded. “All good things.”

  “Yeah.”

  “All good things,” he repeated softly. When he glanced my way, I caught his gaze. His eyes were glazed and shiny. He wanted to cry, just like I wanted to.

  He looked away again. “I’m going to miss the shit out of you.”

  I studied his profile, his lips, his jawline down to his neck. “I’m going to miss you too.”

  “Maybe I’ll kidnap you.” He smirked my way. “Take you right to the airport but force you onto a plane to somewhere we could be together.”

  “I wouldn’t put up much of a fight. Especially if it was to somewhere warm.”

  “Seriously though.” His smile turned serious. “I think that the only way I can let you go is if we keep Virginia in Virginia. Since we can’t make it work, right?”

  My heart sank, even though I understood.

  We rode in silence for a few seconds. I concentrated all my efforts on trying not to cry as his question hung between us in the cab of the truck. “I don’t see how it could work either.” I rested my forehead on my knees, hiding my face from him, and let a tear drop. As much as I wanted to say “It most definitely can,” I didn’t. Thoughts of Oliver and all the years of molding to whatever he needed me to be had left me with a bitterness that even Josh couldn’t dissolve.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Josh

  My sisters dominated Violet for our last evening together. Except Charlie. She hung close to me. We watched a documentary on melting icebergs while the rest of the family chattered in the kitchen with Violet about Europe. I hadn’t been able to listen without my damn heart c
racking in half, and when I’d walked out, Charlie had followed.

  After the documentary, she looked up at me with sleepy eyes. “You’re going to come back after graduation?”

  I kissed her nose. “I’ll be right in Charlamagne, and you can come stay with me whenever you want.”

  “Aren’t you going to miss Violet? Why does she have to go to Vienna?”

  I paused, searching for an answer that would make sense to her. “Because she’s following her dreams. She has a wonderful opportunity there, and people need to hear her music. But yeah, I’m going to miss her.”

  “It stinks when we have to miss people.”

  “Yeah, it does.” I missed Vi already and she was still right there with me. I couldn’t imagine how I’d feel when she was on the other end of the world.

  * * *

  Vi and I sat next to each other at dinner, mostly quietly, our hands intertwined under the table. Dom joined us for dessert, and he and Violet compared notes on places they’d been in Europe. I felt bad when my sisters sat staring in awe, listening to their stories. Someday, I’d send each and every one of them around the world. They deserved everything, and I intended to be someone who could give it to them.

  The more the sky darkened, the more depressed I got about the trip back to NJU in the morning. It would be hard to leave my family, but that was only a fraction as hard as leaving Violet and our memories in Charlamagne. Going back to NJU would have been bad enough—but the fact that she was leaving the country made it feel like my heart was being crushed by a two-hundred-pound kettlebell.

  When everyone seemed occupied and there were no sets of eyes on me, I snuck outside with Elmo and sat on the front porch swing, a bottle of Jack in tow. Spring was on its way, and the air, while cool, wasn’t chilling like it had been in the beginning of the week. Somehow, everything had changed during this precious week, even the damn weather.

  I don’t know how long I’d been outside before Vi came out, but I’d managed to take the liquid in the bottle down to the top of the label. She peeked around the screen door. For a second she didn’t see me, but the moonlight shone on her face.

  I took a mental picture. The profile of her face. The smile that grew, first when Elmo appeared at her feet and again when her gaze met mine. She had always been beautiful, with all that dark hair, those intense eyes, those full pink lips. But then, after learning her all week, after being with her in the way I’d dreamed about for so long, I knew she was fucking exquisite.

  “You okay, Hunkarama?” she asked, taking long, slow strides toward me.

  I shrugged, the liquid sloshing around the bottle that I still gripped for dear life. “Feeling sorry for myself. Thought I’d get drunk. Want to join?”

  When I slid to the side, she sat next to me, slowly rocking us in the swing.

  “How could you feel sorry for yourself when you have all of this?” she asked, looking out over the property. “It’s beautiful here. Your family is beautiful. Your life is beautiful.”

  “You’re beautiful,” I said, kissing the top of her head.

  She crossed her arms as she wedged herself into my side—to that spot where she fit perfectly. She took the bottle out of my hand and unscrewed the top. “Maybe just one. To warm me up.”

  I leaned close, my lips to her ear, and whispered, “I know some fun ways we can warm you up.”

  She smiled up at me. “You sure do.”

  I kissed her lips. “You know what sucks?”

  “What?”

  “Everything.” I took another swig of the whiskey. It didn’t even burn my throat anymore.

  Vi didn’t respond. There wasn’t anything to say. She snuggled into me, resting her head on my chest and curling her legs over mine.

  We swung as the sky darkened, Elmo at our feet. Mom peeked out and saw us, disappeared inside, and then reappeared with a blanket. “We’re all heading to bed. Dom’s staying on the couch. Don’t you dare sneak out in the morning without saying bye.” She kissed me on the head, then Violet. Neither of us spoke. “It’s going to be okay, you know,” Mom offered. “The universe has a way of working things out.”

  The whiskey had made me slow to react. I wanted to thank my mother, but I figured that would have to wait until tomorrow.

  When Mom left us alone again, Vi sat up straight and looked at me.

  “What’s wrong?” I asked.

  She stood and jumped off the porch, into the night. “Follow me?”

  “I can’t go anywhere,” I mumbled.

  She darted back up the porch and offered me her hand. “Come.”

  With a sigh, I stood, taking a second to get my bearings. As she led me down the porch and over the front path to the driveway, the ground spun under my feet. Violet kept me from falling by holding onto my wrist.

  She brought me to my truck and flung open the door. All of our stuff was ready to go, packed and stacked on the back seat. After rummaging through a bit, she pulled something out.

  Even in the dark night, I could make out her violin case.

  Without hesitation, she slammed the truck door closed and took my wrist again, pulling me over the gravel driveway, to the path that led from the front yard into the woods. The snow had melted, making the woods marshy and muddy. Violet didn’t seem to care as she carried the violin and pulled me along behind her.

  I knew where she was going.

  When we got there, she stopped at the bottom rungs and looked up to the treehouse. Then she looked back at me.

  “Well, you’re too drunk to get up there, and I don’t want you to break your neck.” She put a hand on my chest and nudged me back to lean me against the tree trunk. The rungs that led to the treehouse provided a sort of wall to help me stay balanced.

  When she let go of me, I squeezed my eyes shut in a lame attempt to sober up, then opened them wide. “What are you doing with your fiddle?”

  She pulled it out of the case, held it and the bow in one hand, and stood the case up against the tree. “It’s a violin. I’m playing it and making us a memory.”

  I raised my eyebrows. “You’re going to play it? Out here?”

  Nodding, she smiled at me. “Nobody will hear. I can’t say I’ve ever played in the middle of a bunch of trees, and this is our special place now. Would you mind if I did?”

  “Nothing would make me happier, Violet.” The words came out slurred and stupid, but the meaning behind them was true. I watched in awe as Violet lifted the violin to her chin, holding the bow in position.

  She caught me looking and froze before moving the violin away again. “I may be a little rusty.”

  I tried to stand up straight, but when the world spun, I went back to my original position, propped against the rungs of the treehouse ladder. “Do you think I would be able to tell?”

  She laughed as she repositioned the instrument. “Feels good to hold her again.”

  “You look good doing it.” We locked gazes. I tried not to let the sadness creep in and focused on the awesome week we’d had. “Thanks for being here with me,” I whispered.

  Even in the light of the moon, I could see the tears reflected in her eyes. “Thanks for letting me in.”

  We stood there with our matching grins, unspoken words flying between us. Finally, I couldn’t take the intensity of her gaze any longer. The intensity of the feelings I had for her, that the alcohol was meant to numb. “Play,” I demanded.

  And she did.

  I had no idea what it was. Something classical, slow, and haunting. I closed my eyes and listened, and it was almost as if the trees were singing to me. That the melody of her piece echoed off them, living and breathing in the woods as sure as we were standing there. When I opened my eyes again, Violet danced with the violin, her arm swaying, her fingers alive on the strings. Her entire upper body moved with the tune, like the music was coming from her soul instead of her hands. Like it lived inside of her and she was letting it out.

  Thanks for letting me in, she’d said. As if there
were ever a time where she wasn’t in my heart.

  I took a few steps closer to her, dizzy from the sight of her in the moonlight, under our treehouse. The sounds she created filled our space, and the smell of the woods seemed to make everything even more vibrant and real.

  She kept playing as I fell to my knees in front of her, not caring that I’d be covered in mud. I wanted to fill all my senses, and to do that, I had to touch her. Her tights were soft under my fingers. I slid my hands higher, under her skirt. I gripped her thighs as they hardened with her movements, and I looked up at her, careful not to get in her way.

  I rubbed the backs of her legs, loving the curve of them, the dip before the roundness of her ass. When the music stopped, I looked up at her. She’d let the bow drop from the strings.

  “No, no, no. Please don’t stop,” I begged.

  “You’re distracting me…your hands…I…” She lost her voice as I tugged at her tights.

  “I love the way you look when you play. The way you sound. I just wanted to touch you too. Let me have the fantasy?”

  She smiled down at me. “I’ll play for as long as I can, okay?”

  “Feels good right?”

  “What?”

  I didn’t know what I’d referred to when I asked. “Everything. Everything with you, with us, with the music, it all feels so good.”

  She nodded. “So good. All of it. All of you.”

  Violet didn’t stop playing as I touched her. She didn’t even stop when my fingers made their way up her inner thigh to feel the heat between her legs, waiting for me. It was when I needed to feel her skin and yanked down her tights, that moment when I felt her wet and warm, that she said she had to take a break.

  As I leaned her against the ladder rungs, the silence seemed as dominating as the music had been. Carefully, I took the violin and the bow and placed them in the case before I turned back to her and devoured her with my mouth.