Night Shifts Black (16 page)

“Dude, she
says she doesn’t want to show you. Let it go,” Luke chimes in, and the spell
breaks.

I feel
badly then. I don’t know why except that somehow I’ve betrayed Casey. His faith
in me. I’m being everything I hate about Luke.

“No, it’s
fine. Sorry. Here,” I jump in. “But like I said, don’t expect too much.”

I hand him
the book back, and he starts going through it again like I’ve just given him
the secret to eternal life.

“I think he
likes it,” Luke teases, and I give him a look.

“Hell yeah,
I like it.”

He skims
over a few more pages, then lands back on my mirror poem.

“Dude,
where’s your guitar?” Casey asks, and Luke’s face falls. Casey only grunts.
“Come on, man, not now.”

Luke glares
at him. “You know I don’t play anymore.”

“Yeah, and
I also know you don’t go anywhere without that piece of junk. Just get it for me
and then you can sulk all you want.”

Luke smirks.
“It needs new strings. I haven’t touched it in forever.”

“You think
I care about that right now? I’m not gonna play a show in the lobby, I just
want to try something. Come on! Don’t be a dick for once. Please!”

It’s Luke’s
turn to grunt as he rises from his seat and saunters off down the hall. I
glance at Casey but see he’s pretty much forgotten about me at this point. I
can see his mind working furiously on something, scanning the page over and
over again. I decide not to interrupt, I’m not sure what to say anyway, and am
relieved when Luke finally appears, an acoustic guitar in hand. Casey looks
about to explode if he doesn’t get whatever this is, out.

The
instrument is a beaten mess, which surprises me. I’d expected a star of his
caliber to require newer, flashier equipment, but apparently the instrument
that “goes with him everywhere” has gone with him for many, many years to many,
many places.

Casey
barely even acknowledges him as he rips the guitar from his hands and starts
tuning. Luke doesn’t seem upset, however, and appears amused more than
anything. I wonder if they’re simply accustomed to this kind of rabid
exploration of an idea from each other.

“Well, you
kids have fun. I’m gonna go back to my room and lie down. Way too much
excitement for one day.”

I doubt
Casey even hears him.

I watch
Luke until he disappears, then turn back to Casey who finally seems satisfied
with his tuning. He closes his eyes and nods his head as if counting to himself,
and I’m fascinated at the glimpse of his own genius at work.

His fingers
wrap around the neck of the guitar with a familiar comfort that makes it
obvious he spends a lot of time in this position. He starts strumming, his eyes
still scanning my notebook, pausing, strumming again, picking out some
individual notes, pausing and returning. I gaze in silence, completely
captivated.

Finally, he
seems satisfied with something that makes sense in his head, but I have yet to
hear beyond it.

I don’t
even get an intro or explanation before he starts playing an actual song, my
words connecting in a rhythm and flow I’d never thought of, but find incredibly
beautiful. They come to life, transforming from thoughts into action.

Casey has a
good voice. Not as unique as Luke’s, but good enough that any lesser band would
probably be happy to have him as their own frontman. I doubt he’d agree with
me, but I’m surprised by his confidence. I guess I shouldn’t be. I’m witnessing
a superstar doing what made him a superstar.

He stops
and takes in a deep breath before meeting my gaze with an uncertain expression,
the confidence suddenly gone. I’m startled by it, the open vulnerability of
someone who should be invincible.

“That
was amazing. I never thought my words could sound like that,” I breathe, stuck
in all kinds of awe at the moment. Of Casey. Of me. Of what we just created
together.

I
thought I’d gotten used to Casey’s grins. He shares them often enough, but this
is a new one. He seems almost transcended as he nods and opens his own
notebook. He scribbles for several minutes. Stopping, thinking, scribbling
again. Every so often he’ll play through some chords, humming to himself,
muttering something, then return to the notebook.

I wonder
again if he even remembers I’m here. He hasn’t acknowledged me in a long time,
when suddenly, he stops and gives me a direct stare, almost startled.

“You
need to go back to your place, wherever that is, and get your laptop.”

This
time I know what he’s thinking. I’m not even going to bother with the familiar
line of insecure questioning.

“Are you
sure?” I ask, still concerned this can’t possibly be happening.

He nods.
“Positive. Get it now.” I continue to hesitate. “Go!”

And I
rise with a grin of my own.

∞∞∞

By the time I return to the suite, Casey and
Luke are seated at the table, containers of food half-empty, and a clean plate
at the open spot. They look up when I approach, and Luke waves me over.

“Thai,” he explains.

“With your hangover?”
I ask in disbelief.

He just shrugs with a
grin. “Burns away the alcohol?”

“What, so she has a
key now?” Casey asks, interrupting our greeting.

“She’s here all the
time anyway. I gave her the guest room.”

Casey studies us for a
moment, and I swear I can see his expression fall. I don’t know what it means,
but my pulse starts to pound as it occurs to me he might be jealous. Could that
even be possible? No, of course not. He just thinks it means something
different than it does and is mad that I broke my promise not to fall in love
with Luke. I can’t exactly explain that to him at the moment, however, so I
just drop my bag and take my seat.

“It’s more convenient,
that’s all,” I offer quickly.

I can feel his gaze,
but I’m not ready to meet it and start filling my plate with food.

“Did you bring your
laptop?” he asks, changing the subject, but his voice is different now. Some of
the magic is gone, and I finally dare a glance in his direction. His eyes…I
look away again.

“Got it.”

“Ok, good.”

“Heard you working on
something,” Luke comments. “Sounded pretty good.”

Casey nods, but
doesn’t seem as pleased as I would have thought. “Yeah. Got a call from TJ
today…” His voice trails off, and they exchange a knowing look.

“I’m surprised they
weren’t on your case sooner,” Luke says.

“They’ve been bugging
me, but this was the first ‘do or die’ call.”

“What do they want?”

Casey studies him for
a moment, and I wonder if he’s surprised Luke’s still engaged in the discussion
at this point. I know I am.

 
“New tour in four months with at least three
new tracks.”

Luke smirks. “Got
tired of waiting, I guess.”

“I’d love your help,
man.”

Luke doesn’t respond
and only stares at his plate. “Yeah, well, that’s not my thing anymore.” And
there it is. The leg positioned clear of the table, the knee at attention. He’s
about to run.

“I know, but maybe
if…”

“Alright, well, I know
I’m full. What about you guys?” Luke cuts in, disappearing from his half-eaten
plate before either of us can respond.

Familiar ending to any
meal with Luke Craven.

Casey curses and
shoves his own chair back in frustration. He doesn’t move, however, and just
sits in silence, lost in thought.

“You ok?” I ask, and
he turns on me with a fire I haven’t seen from him before.

“You’re living with
him? Why didn’t you tell me you two hooked up? Don’t you think you should have
led with that?”

My eyes widen in
shock. “What? Whoa, wait a second. We didn’t hook up.”

“No? But you moved
in?”

“It’s not like that! I
mean, I know what it sounds like, but it’s not!”

I lean forward,
suddenly terrified at the thought of losing him, maybe even more than I ever
was of losing Luke. I’m startled by the thought. Disturbed.

“I didn’t move in, I
just keep some stuff here in case it gets late. Come on, you know he’s not
ready for a real relationship. I know you know that better than anyone!”

He studies me,
considering my testimony, and I let every ounce of my soul pour onto my face. I
need him to believe me for some reason.

“He’s not, you know,”
he states finally in a calm voice, and I’m actually able to breathe again. “I’m
not sure if he’ll ever be. I warned you about that from the beginning.”

I lean toward him in
earnest. “I know that, trust me. I’ll admit in the beginning I had thoughts,
but now I just care about him. I want to help him. Just like you.”

He’s still evaluating,
I can tell, but I keep meeting his gaze, forcing him to give me a fair chance.

Finally, he sighs and
shakes head. “God, I’m sorry, Callie. It’s just…” He stops and tries to collect
his thoughts. “They all fall for him. Every single one. How can they not? I’m
not saying he does it on purpose. Maybe sometimes, but mostly he just doesn’t
realize the effect he has. But I know where he’s at right now, and you will get
hurt. I know you will.”

“I know. Seriously,
Casey, I know, ok? It’s not like that. I don’t have those kinds of feelings for
him anymore.”

No one is more
surprised than I am that I can make that statement with confidence for the
first time. I swallow, feeling free somehow. It makes me brave. Or stupid.
Both?

I get up and take his
hands. I’m still not sure what exactly is going on between Casey and me, but I
know that brief moment when I thought I’d lost him was bad enough that the ache
is still pressing on my lungs.

Then, it happens. I’m
not sure which one of us moves first, but before I know it I’m falling against
him, my lips connecting with his. It feels so different than the moment with
Luke. This kiss is pure, considered, natural. The lack of desperation making it
seem more real, like it could actually last this time. I lock him against me,
loving how he does the same, and remember what he’d said at the party. He was
right. I did let him kiss me and I do love it. I love it so much I want to
write about it.

I pull away, and he
seems concerned, then softens at the grin on my face.

“Let’s write.”

“What?” he laughs.
“Right now?”

I nod. I give him
another quick kiss and jump to my feet, reaching for his hands to pull him
after me.

“What about dessert?”
he asks with a sly grin. “I was enjoying it.”

I groan. “Seriously? And
you’re a songwriter?”

He laughs again and lets
me lead him back to the couch.

∞∞∞

We end up working mainly on the mirror song.
By the time we wrap up our efforts, we’re pretty comfortable with the general
framework of what we put together. Casey is already talking about demos and
scratch tracks and a bunch of other things that I guess mean he wants to do
more with it. He clearly has a lot more of the song pieced together in his head
than what he can play for me on the guitar. He tries his best to explain and
demonstrate his masterpiece, but even with his makeshift couch cushion drum
set, and surprisingly effective humming and hand motions, isn’t able to fully
translate his vision. After everything I’ve seen from him, I have no doubt that
whatever it is, it will be spectacular.

“You hungry?” he asks
as I get to my feet and stretch.

“A little. I want to
go check on Luke though.”

Casey nods. “Good
idea. I’ll go get us some food.”

“You could just order
room service if you don’t feel like going out.”

He grimaces and shakes
his head. “No, I need some air. Be back in a bit.”

He jumps up, grabs his
jacket, which I doubt he needs, and heads to the door. “Make sure you let me
back in, though! Unlike you, I don’t have a key…”

I return his smile.
“Depends what you bring back.”

He grins and shrugs
before disappearing through the main door.

I turn in the opposite
direction and head down the hall toward Luke’s room. My nerves start to burn in
my stomach as I move forward, as though I’m transporting from the sunny spark
of creativity to the pain of lost identity. I’m not sure what’s waiting for me
at the end of the hall, but I’m terrified it will be something I’m not ready to
handle again so soon.

When no one answers my
knock, I peek into the room and am surprised to find it empty. I call for Luke,
but there’s no response, and my blood starts to pound. I enter the room,
holding my breath, searching the bathroom and anywhere else he could be hiding.
Nothing.

Confused and
concerned, I back through the door and try the guestroom. Maybe he finally decided
to take his own turn with the whacky shower. The extra room proves to be empty as
well, and now I’m very worried. I’m sure he didn’t leave, we would have
noticed, so I try one last possibility: the office.