Tracing Holland (NSB Book 2) (17 page)

I absorb it all, sucking it in like
air, laughing so hard at times I can barely breathe. I don’t remember the last
time I’ve been able to abandon my weighted existence for so long. For the next
few hours I’m someone else, someone I don’t hate, someone who laughs, and
cares, and even dreams a little.
Someone who understands peace.

She learns some things too. I’m
ambidextrous, find spider plants creepy, and have never been on a boat. I’m not
a huge fan of mushrooms either, but I’ll at least forgive them on pizza under
the right circumstances.

We talk about some of the dark stuff too.
About my aunt disowning me, leaving me with no family other than the small one
I’ve created with Callie and the band. How hard it was growing up believing you
must have been the reason everyone kept abandoning you. We talk about Elena.

I can’t bring myself to discuss this
past year yet, the chair, my gross betrayal the night of Elena’s death, but I
do admit to my struggle with depression and the battle that will probably follow
me the rest of my life. She understands and says one of her sisters deals with
the same condition.

We’re both disappointed by the knock on
the door, but not surprised when we glance at the clock on the wall.

“Crap! It’s so late!” she laughs,
jumping to her feet. She had put her top back on a while ago, and I rise to
grab my own shirt off the floor. I’ve just slipped it over my head when she
opens the door to reveal the last person I want to see at that moment.

“Hey, Wes. Did they finish the sound
check?”

His eyes sear me from across the room,
and I do my best to pretend not to notice.

“Yeah, they’re finished. Just checking
to see if you wanted to grab something to eat quick from catering.” He stops,
and this time I decide to face his hatred head-on. “But I guess you’re busy.”

Holland has to notice the tension, but
chooses to let it go. “No, it’s fine. We’re finishing up. You want to get some
food?” she asks, turning to me. I almost say yes just to annoy Wes, but am
pretty sure I’d regret it once the satisfaction of the “up yours” wore off.

“Actually, I should get going and check
in with the others. You go ahead,” I say moving toward the door as if it’s not
going to take every reserve of strength I have to pass within five feet of Wes
without hitting him.

“You sure?” Holland seems disappointed,
but I cast her a sincere smile.

“Yeah. We’ll catch up later, ok?” I
assure her. We exchange a knowing look that I’m sure Wes doesn’t miss.

“Hey, man, sorry about your phone
getting hacked,” he sneers as I move past him. “That’s
gotta
suck. Those girls were pretty hot, though.”

I glare at him, but manage to keep my
fists from smashing his face as I move into the hallway. I guess the secret’s
out.

∞∞∞

I’ve put it off long enough. Now that I know the new false
“truth” about the phone hack is public, I don’t really have a choice anyway. I
have to come clean to Callie and Casey, and I send them a message to meet me at
the bus.

I don’t have to wait long when they
board with concerned looks on their faces.

“Luke, before you begin, please let us
say something,” Callie blurts as she drops beside me on the lounge. “We’ve been
trying to get you all day! We’re sorry, ok? Whatever happened in Charlotte
doesn’t change anything. We should have been more supportive and
understanding.”

Her sincerity cuts into me, and I’m
filled with a mixture of warmth, regret, and fear. I guess we’ll see how
sincere they are when they’re forced to confront my latest lie.

I swallow and brace myself. “Well,
that’s why I called you here. I have to confess something about what happened
in Charlotte.” I can tell they want to interrupt, but I don’t give them the
chance. “I didn’t go out that night. I just walked around a bit and got some
air.” I suck in a deep breath and finally meet their surprised gazes. “I leaked
old photos because I didn’t want them talking about you anymore, Cal.”

I stop and allow the shock to settle. Even
though they’re more accustomed to my infuriating, confusing love than anyone,
they’re still struggling with this one. The silence seems to go on for hours,
but I’m sure it’s only a few seconds before I’m being tackled against the backrest
of the couch.

“What is wrong with you?” Callie cries,
nestling into my shoulder.

I chuckle and shake my head. “God, I
have no idea. You know that.”

She pulls back with a stern look, but
the glisten in her eyes gives her away. “Ok, first of all. That was so stupid!
You can’t do that, Luke! You have got to start worrying about yourself! Taking
care of you!” She actually smacks my shoulder, and then sits back to take a
breath. “And second of all…” she stops and hugs me again while Casey only
shakes his head behind her.

“Are you fucking serious, man?” he
mutters in disbelief.

I shrug. “We’re going to say my phone
was hacked.”

“Hacked by its owner, the biggest idiot
on this planet! You let us all shred you!” Casey curses again.

I look away. “Yeah, well, maybe it
wasn’t the best plan.”

“It was a freaking idiotic plan!
Dude, that
is so messed up! Why didn’t you at least tell
us?”

“I was afraid you’d be upset and try to
interfere which would only make things worse.”

“Um, yeah, we would have, you dork!”
Callie cries, swatting my arm. “What were you thinking?”

I laugh again at the ironic question.
“I wasn’t, that’s the problem. I just…I don’t know.”

She moves onto the cushion beside me,
turning my face to hers and staring me down. “Luke Craven, it’s Straight Talk
Time. Don’t you ever,
ever
,
do something like that again, got it? I mean, ever!”

I grin and shrink a bit. “I won’t.”

“You better not!” She crosses her arms
and glares at the clock. “You’re lucky you need to go get ready for the show
right now, but don’t get too comfortable. I’m not even close to done with you!”

Casey shoots me an amused look. “Wow.
This is a whole new level of Callie-fire. Good luck, man.”

“Ok, ok! I get it! I’m sorry!” I cry,
holding up my hands in surrender.

She continues to glare at me, even as
she wraps her arms around me in another hug. “This is what I wanted that night,
Luke. I needed a hug, not to watch someone I love and care about self-destruct.
Losing you was so much more painful than the stupid rumors.”

I sigh. “I know. I’m sorry. I’m getting
that now.”

“Do you?”

I grin and lean back. “Actually, I
think I do.”

∞∞∞

We’re not rolling out to our next stop until the morning, so
the consensus is to let off steam at a local club after the show. Even Jesse
and the Limelight guys are in, so as much as I dread the thought of an evening
with Holland in the seductive atmosphere of a club under the watchful eye of
her babysitter Wes, I accept that this is one social obligation I can’t avoid.

Still reeling from our afternoon in the
dressing room, I had made the mistake of stalking her performance from
backstage later that night. Huge error, since now I can’t get her out of my
head. I watch her in the car to the club, as she moves a few paces ahead on her
way to the door, study her arm intertwined with Callie’s. She’s gorgeous, as
always, but it’s how she’s able to plow right through my epic bullshit and
completely stir the dormant core underneath that’s got me glued to her every
move. It doesn’t help that her own eyes keep wandering toward me, plunging deep
into my soul before tracing every line of my body through my clothing. We both
know what we want. We both know we’re not going to be able to have it right
now.

We laugh and joke with the others,
settling on opposite sides of the table when the hostess shows us to a private area.
But that electricity is always there, sparking, waiting for the moment when the
hidden glance creeps from a safe conversation with the others to the burning longing
for each other just out of reach. My head is a mess, my body fully charged, and
when she finally grabs my hand to dance, I’m sure she’s lost her mind.

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” I warn
as she drags me toward the dance floor.

“It’s a terrible idea, but I don’t care.
I have to touch you and figured this was better than tackling you at the
table,” she tosses back, sending my hot blood on a rampage.

She turns without warning and throws
her arms around my neck, pulling me into her. I immediately feel the tension
release and build at the same time, tearing apart anything left of my will. My
hands move over her as well, her smooth back, her perfect ass, and when she sucks
in her
breath
to absorb my touch, I don’t know how to
stop myself from kissing her. I need her. I need us.

She meets my lips with a hunger that
ravishes both of us, and for a brief moment there is no club. No dance floor,
no music,
no
dizzying mix of tightly pressed bodies.
There’s nothing, no one, just Holland and Luke, together, filling each other
with something we can’t explain and can’t get enough of. But we’re not alone.
We have a huge audience, and part of who we are means we don’t get to make our
own choices. We both understand that all too well when she quickly pulls back
and rests her head against my cheek instead.

She doesn’t have to explain further as
I hold her against me. We’re both thinking the same thing. Hoping no one saw
our stolen kiss, forced to finish the heated encounter in our heads as our firm
bodies melt into each other, all under the pretense of moving to music we can’t
even hear.

But we’re not as strong as we’d hoped,
and soon it’s her hands making the exploration, her secret sin. I close my eyes,
trying to hold myself together, even as she works to unravel me. Her fingers
slip under my shirt, spreading a searing heat up my chest, around my waist, then
clinging to the edge of my jeans and eliminating any protective gap between us.
My pulse is pounding, my breath short as she tortures me, but there’s no way I
can bring myself to stop her. I don’t want mercy. I want her hands on me as
much as she seems determined to take every inch she can get. It’s all hers,
whatever she wants, whatever she can get away with in this dangerous moment.

Her eyes rise to meet mine, pleading
with me, trapped in the same impossible crisis that I am. In this place
designed for crowds, we need to be alone. We need…I stop cold.

Holland follows my gaze, and I can feel
her deflate as she instinctively puts some distance between us. Wes’ glare
speaks volumes, and we don’t need an explanation about how much he saw. Holland
gives me an apologetic look, and I can’t help but sigh as she fights through
the crowd in his direction. I watch them argue for a bit before she takes his
arm and they disappear from my line of sight.

I’m not sure how long I stand there
staring after them, a solitary stone pillar stationed in the midst of the
undulating waves of the dance floor. It’s not that I can’t move. I want to,
desperately. I just have no idea where to go from here.

∞∞∞

I’m not surprised when Wes corners me in the restroom the
first chance he gets, only that he managed to wait this long. I have to assume
he’s been watching me all night, and my blood chills at the thought of him
stalking me, waiting for this moment to unleash whatever punishment he has
planned. I’m not afraid of
him,
only afraid of what
this petty confrontation is going to do to the rickety frame of the new life I’ve
just started building. There are a few witnesses in the room, but they seem to
have no interest in involving themselves in our drama. I don’t blame them.

“I thought I told you to stay away from
her, you piece-of-shit!” he hisses, and I manage to stir my glare enough to
match his.

“And I thought I told you she was a big
girl and could make her own decisions,” I spit back, moving to the sink as
though washing my hands is infinitely more important than anything he has to
say. I know I’m making a mistake by stoking the fire, but I’ve never done well
with people trying to push me around. I’m the only bully allowed to string
myself up.

“I’m talking to you!” he cries, shoving
me away from the sink, and I turn on him with the same fire.

“Are you fucking serious? We’re going
to do this? Fight over a girl in a bathroom? You’re kidding, right?” I bark at
him.

By now, we’re alone and I’m not
surprised. We’re acting like raging fools. I want nothing to do with this; I
can’t even imagine how little a random bystander wants to participate.

“Wes, you need to back off, ok?
Seriously, just back the fuck off because I’m telling you, this is not going to
end well for you. The only reason this has gone on as long as it has is because
I have a huge amount of respect for Holland and her band. You’re her band, but
take this one step further and I don’t give a shit about the blowback!”