Tracing Holland (NSB Book 2) (16 page)

“Don’t,” she says, swiping at her eyes
with a rough hand. “You were right. We can’t be friends. You should just go.
It’s better if you just go.”

I should, but for one of the first
times in my life, I don’t. I shake my head. “No. I don’t want to. Not this
time.”

Her eyes meet mine in shock. The words
came out on
their own,
and I’m just as surprised. But
I realize they are Truth. They are more Truth than anything about pictures or haunted
pasts or reputations. I don’t want to leave her. That is the truth. I want to
be here with her. I want to let this person inside me.

She’s in my arms before I can say
another word, and I pull her tight against my chest. Her own arms constrict
around my back as though she’s afraid I’m not real, that I’ll vanish before her
eyes if she doesn’t hold on tight enough. I rest my cheek on her hair as we
hold on, wondering what this moment
means,
terrified
that we’re officially breaking every rule we’ve separately constructed to
protect ourselves from each other. But we don’t belong apart, that much is
clear. We may not have a clue about how to be together, but there’s no more
denying we can’t seem to separate no matter how hard we try.

“I’m sorry, Holland. So sorry,” I
whisper, and she pulls tighter. “I don’t want to be what I am.”

“Just let me in, Luke. Please,” she
pleads into my shirt. “That’s all I’ve ever wanted from you.”

I nod, even though I know she can’t see
me, and close my eyes. It feels so amazing to be held.
To
feel the warmth of someone’s body against mine.
Not in a gesture of
comfort, but in a union. Free of the guilt, the pain,
the
horror that is usually weighing on my soul when I’m touched.
This
isn’t comfort
,
it’s connection
.

My body starts to react to the
closeness of hers and it’s everything I can do to control the dizzying rush of
blood and longing. The agony is unbearable when she finally pulls back and
unveils the same mirrored in her eyes.

“I’m not sure I’m totally ready to
break all my rules yet, but I want more than a hug, Luke. I want free access to
you. All of you,” she whispers, and I find her comfort with her honesty so incredibly
hot.

We’re done with words, and my lips find
hers in an instinctive crash that sends my brain into oblivion. Her hands slide
up my back, curving around my shoulders in a desperate attempt to pull me
closer. I can feel her fingertips digging into my muscles, completely claiming
me in that moment. It’s not enough, though, and soon we’re backing toward a
table in her dressing room. She pushes me against it and I love her confidence.
She wants me and has no hesitation in making sure I know it. She grabs the hem
of my t-shirt, and I help her yank it over my head. We work together on hers as
well, and when it’s our skin making contact this time, the eruptions inside me make
it impossible to focus on anything else.

“You are a work of art, you know that?”
she breathes, tracing her fingers along my chest, down my abs.

I respond by kissing her again, my
blood pounding in my veins. I want her, all of her. I want her naked form
melted into mine, to fill her completely, to consume her mind, body, and soul. And
I want to give her every inch of me that she’s willing to take. God, I want
everything, even though I’m still not convinced either of us is ready for that.
We instinctively know that, for us, this
moment,
will
come with a commitment both of us still fear from each other.

And then it hits me.
Crashes
down in an avalanche that slams into my lungs, and it’s everything I can do to
stay standing. There it is in all its vile, eternal glory, the Truth. The rest
of it anyway, all the things I haven’t told her but she deserves to know to
make this choice. I care about her too much to let her break her rules for a
man she doesn’t know.

“Holland, wait…” I say, pulling away.

She groans. “Are you serious? Not again!”

I smile in spite of myself. “No, it’s
not that. I want this. I’m not leaving. It’s just, you deserve more than this.”

She rolls her eyes. “I’m not exactly
the rose petals and candles type. I just want you naked. Why is this so
confusing for you?”

“I know, it’s just…”

“Seriously, you’re killing me!”

I laugh and shake my head. “I know. I
want that too, believe me, but…” I grow serious.
Time for
bombshell number two of this encounter.
“I haven’t had sex in sixteen
months.”

She stops, her expression changing, and
I look away, suddenly embarrassed but not regretting anything. That’s not even
in the ballpark of the shit she’s about to get dumped on her.

She covers her shock with a dismissive
laugh. “Um…ok. Well, I can help you if you’re confused. I’m sure it’s like
riding a bike.” She reaches for my jeans, and I catch her wrist, chuckling.

“No, that’s not what I mean. I’m pretty
sure it’ll come back to me. I just meant…” I sigh. “Can we sit?”

She’s about to protest again, but then
seems to sense there’s more standing in our way than a little insecurity. Her
mood immediately shifts, and I love her dimensions, how comfortable she is
navigating them.

“Sure.”

We don’t let go of each other and move
to the small couch against the wall. Once we’re seated, she wraps her arm
around mine, our fingers laced together. She rests her head on my shoulder, and
I close my eyes. I don’t deserve this moment, this woman, but she deserves the
truth. The problem is, I don’t really know where to start. It suddenly occurs
to me that this story has never actually been written. Not in a cohesive form,
not in any kind of meaningful narrative that can explain the Train-Wreck, Gravedigger,
Dandelion
that is Luke Craven. Even during the good
years with Elena we had been more focused on surviving our present than
worrying much about our pasts. She had known details, facts, but no one knew
the person who lived them. Not really. And now she’s a chapter I’m still trying
to survive, one that will never close but will go on forever, even as new ones
begin to form.

Holland squeezes my hand, and I force
air into my lungs. She needs to know this story.

“I was married before,” I begin
quietly.

Holland grips harder, as if sensing I’m
approaching the vault. “I know. Elena, right? You still wear the ring.”

I nod, casting an instinctive glance at
my hand. “I’ll take it off eventually. I just…” I can’t finish. The sudden
heaviness rises into my throat, cutting me off. I’m horrified at the display until
Holland huddles closer, shattering the little hold I have left on my emotions.
The tears move to my eyes and I try to blink them away, but they press harder,
threatening to expose
me and the weakness that will probably
always haunt me at some level
. I can’t stop thinking about Elena now,
which makes me feel like I’m betraying both of these amazing women I don’t
deserve. Would she forgive me for this moment? For wanting
to
 
explore
the depths of another
soul?
For trying to be the man for Holland that I should have
been for her?

“You don’t ever have to take it off,
Luke,” Holland whispers. “I want to share you with her.”

The tears fall freely now, knocked from
their dam by her selfless beauty. I lean forward and cover my face, embarrassed
but unable to stop them. All I can do is hide now, hide and hope she can
forgive the damage I’ve inserted into her life. At least she knows. Giving her
irrefutable evidence of what I am is maybe the first truly selfless thing I’ve
done in return. But she stuns me again when I feel the pressure and warmth of
her arms around me. She settles her head against my shoulder, holding on to
everything that’s left of me.

“You’re not broken, Luke. Just lost,”
she says softly. I glance up, and she brushes my wet cheek. “Not a ‘broken
wanderer,’ just a wanderer like the rest of us. You just insist on doing it
alone, which never works.”

I look away and stare at the far wall.
She’s not
wrong,
I just don’t know how to be anything
else. “I’ve done a lot of terrible things.”

“We all have.”

“No, but you don’t understand. You
should know. You need to understand what I am.”

I can feel her soft laugh. “I hate to
break it to you, but all your terrible things are pretty well-documented.”

I close my eyes and can’t stop the
brief smile. “I know, but it’s more than that. I’m hard, Holland. Really hard,”
I muse into the stillness of the room.

I sense her increased amusement and
cast her a wry grin. “What?”

“Um…really?”

“Oh, come on, that’s not what I meant!”

She laughs at the look on my face. “I
know, but, seriously! After what just happened?”

I shake my head, still grinning. “Get
your mind out of the gutter, woman.”

She giggles and latches onto my arm
again when I lean back on the couch. “Says the badass rock star. Please. Your
minds live in the gutters. ”

I grin and shrug. “Used to. Now I’m a
fucking Hallmark card, apparently.”

“You’re thinking about adopting a
kitten aren’t you?”

“Hilarious. Hey, how about you stop
trying to strip my clothes off every time we’re together?”

Her eyes widen at the challenge. “Oh, really?
Yeah, you definitely haven’t been sending signs that you want it too. I’m
sorry, Luke, your head may be impossible to read, but this guy is not,” she
teases, pointing at my crotch.

I laugh and settle into the cushions. “I
can’t argue with that.” She returns my grin and begins tracing the tattoos on
my chest, the mood growing serious again.

“Explain your ink,” she continues, and
I almost flinch.

“What?”

“If you want to talk instead of letting
me ravish you, you’re going to pay for it. I want details. Start here,” she
says, moving her fingers to my wrist.

I laugh. “All of it?” I ask in
disbelief.

She grins. “Why not? They don’t need us
for another three hours. Besides, I’ve learned it’s the best way to get the
summary of a person. You suck at sharing, so we can do bullet points.”

I let out my breath. “Um…how about we
talk about you for once. I know even less about you than you do of me at this
point. Maybe I’m the one who should be running.”

“Only from boredom,” she laughs.

“Oh, please. There’s no way.”

She settles against me. “Seriously,
Luke, I’m frighteningly stable. I love my family, I have a college degree, and
am insanely happy doing what I love for a living.”

I smile. “So everything I’m not?”

“Everything you don’t need to be if
you’d just accept the truth about what you are.”

I try not to roll my eyes. “So that
degree is in psychology, I suppose?”

“Biology. Can I be honest with you for
a second?”

I’m not even sure how to respond to
that. “Haven’t you been flogging me with honesty since the day we met?”

She grins and shrugs. “True. That was
more of a warning, I guess.” She sighs and pulls back so she can face me. I
brace
myself
as she grows serious. “You think you’re
protecting me from yourself, all the rotten things you are that I don’t know
about. You’ve been pushing me away, refusing to let me in, terrified of the
truth about who you are and what it would do to me when I found out.”

I suck in my breath. “I don’t want to
hurt you. I’ve hurt so many people in my life.”

She shakes her head and leans forward
with an earnestness that immediately silences further protests. “Here’s the
thing, though, the part you’re not getting. All the rotten stuff that you’re so
afraid of me discovering? All the shit you think you’re hiding and protecting
us from? That’s the crap that’s already out there! That’s what we all see,
plastered all over the tabloids and Internet!”

She takes my hands and meets my eyes,
refusing to let me look away. “Luke, I’m here right now, pretty much begging
for more, because you have it backwards. You’re not hiding your darkness.
That’s the part you’ve given the masses to label, judge, and punish.” She draws
in a breath. “I’m here because I’ve glimpsed the actual part that no one sees. The
real part you’re holding back from the world. And I’m telling you, Luke, it’s
fucking beautiful.”

∞∞∞

Holland and I talk for a long time, nearly until we have to
start preparing for the show that night. It’s an incredible thing watching the
lust that started the encounter transform into something deeper, something neither
of us saw coming but instinctively know has changed everything.

Callie was right. Holland is a
fascinating woman, incredibly intelligent, kind, and probably the most sincere,
confident person I’ve ever met. I love every “boring” detail she shares, and
find it hilarious that her “boring” is completely mesmerizing to me. She’s
twenty-nine, terrified of alligators even though she’s never seen one in
person, and has three sisters, including the baby of the family who’s sixteen.
She’s a natural blonde, but likes to dye her hair different colors depending on
her mood, and was born and raised in Canada. She can’t wait until our Toronto
stop
so she can spend some time at home for a bit. She’s had
three serious relationships, her last one ending amicably two years ago. No marriages
or children, but would like both one day. She despises mushrooms.
All kinds, even on pizza.