On Solid Ground: Sequel to in Too Deep (13 page)

“So, your hot rock star plan was to kill me? What are we doing in an alley?” I threw my back against the cold brick of the building and sucked in breath after breath.

“This is the back exit for
Mitchell’s
. Wanna go play me some more songs?”

“Um, no. Buzz almost killed us when he caught us in there earlier.”

“He loved it. Besides, the bar’s closed. He’ll be upstairs counting money or something.”

“Becki, I—”

“Shut up. You’re going to start living a little.”

She opened the door slowly and walked in. I followed her onto the stage. It was an odd place for an exit door, but it wasn’t like the developers had any other option, which I was sure was some kind of hazard. The room was just too small to set up a bar room any other way.

The guitar I’d played earlier had been moved to a hook on the wall. The room was spotless, and there was no one around. But I could hear voices coming from upstairs.

“Shhh. Becki, there are people up there.”

“Relax. It’s probably the bartenders and Buzz.”

I walked over and took the guitar off the wall and hopped up onto a stool. I was center stage. Normally, I would be nervous to play even in front of Becki. But the alcohol still buzzing through my veins no longer had me stumbling and gave me big balls. Big enough to have fun with the situation. I doubted Becki would remember any of it in the morning anyway.

I threw my hands up in the air and waved. “Thank you, thank you. Oh, you’re too kind. Thanks for coming out tonight. I’m Gracie, and I’m your only choice for entertainment this evening.”

Becki pretended to be a raging crowd and had herself in hysterics. She snorted and we both cracked up.

“Come on, Gracie girl. Show me what you got!”

That’s all I needed to push me all the way into rocker role. The excitement of being impulsive and taking the opportunity by the balls then carrying it one step further gave me a bigger buzz then the Goldschlager.

I settled the guitar across my lap, grabbed a pick from the mic stand next to the stool, and took a deep breath. The end of the microphone smelled like Calon. And something about his scent gave me butterflies. The firm seat helped me keep my back straight so I could finger all the chords comfortably. I closed my eyes and started to strum. Immediately, goosebumps rose across my body. I hummed an impromptu melody along with random chords I strung together. I wasn’t sure what I was playing or why, but it flowed effortlessly, and my knowledge of the sounds each chord made helped direct my fingers to the right frets.

I wondered if that was why most rock stars drank. Just as the nervous tension started to leave my body, I remembered Becki was watching me, and I immediately became self-conscious. I critiqued the angle my head was leaning, the swaying of my body, and the sound of my own voice. I saw Noah’s face in my mind; he laughed at my outfit. I actually opened my eyes to make sure he wasn’t really there.

I can do this, dammit.

I distracted myself by focusing on the guitar. Someone else had written and played love songs on it. A young kid dreaming of one day standing in front of thousands of people may have sat in his room and played chords over and over until he could string them all together and play his favorite song. Maybe he passed it on to a girl whose tears hit its pale face more than once, and maybe strings had even been broken from her vigorous strumming while she wrote a song about a broken heart. It was a cool thought that the instrument I had positioned over my thigh had a lifetime of stories to tell. Maybe each owner’s songs were better because their music was unknowingly built on all the stories that came before it.

“Come on...I’m falling asleep over here!” Becki slurred a couple of her words together and made me giggle.

I took a deep breath and shook out my hands, which weren’t as relaxed as I needed them to be. I channeled Anna Nalick and strummed the intro. I was immediately lost in my own acoustic rendition of “Breathe.” The emotion and intensity of the song sucked me in so deep, my chest ached as if my heart could barely take the load of struggles of the people in the lyrics. But, I could only play; my throat was too tight with anxiety and emotion to sing. My body involuntarily moved to a silent beat. I rhythmically pressed my body into the back of the cool wood. The emotions built up within me sent a shiver down my spine. I started to hum along where a voice should be, and just as I was about to belt out the first verse, I saw Noah’s face again. Judging me.

Stop it.
I was overwhelmed. The guitar balanced across my lap while I shook out my arms. I slid my fingers through my hair and wrapped a hair band from my wrist around where I’d gathered it at the base of my neck. My eyelids closed and I willed all images of Noah from my mind. I tilted my head toward each shoulder and rubbed my eyes. He wasn’t going to ruin this for me. My hands ran over the instrument with the potential to pull my heart out through its strings.

I closed my eyes and invited Anna back into my head, but this time, I opened my heart as well. Wide. I sang out the first verse without the guitar. Cleared my throat and started to play. I gave myself a few measures of an introduction before I felt my soul stir and beg for release.

The words flowed from my throat, and I felt like I was flying. Once again, my body pressed into the back of the guitar as I let myself go. The lyrics pulled me directly into a beautifully written description of life, and I was gone. I don’t know where my soul went, but it was a place I’d never felt before. Tears rolled down my cheeks, but not because I was sad or thinking about anything in particular. It was the level of emotion that left my body, both through my fingers and out of my mouth, that overwhelmed me.

My foot tapped out a beat as I sang out the final verses with a force I didn’t know was in me. My hands slowed, and I dropped them in my lap. I held them out in front of me in awe of what they’d just helped me do. I thought about Eddie Vedder. I had seen him fight back tears during performances, and I always wondered what it would feel like to let your music take you to there. Sometimes, his face would twist, and he’d squeeze his eyes closed as if they were burning with unshed tears.

I’d always had a fascination with performers, but now, I had a new level of respect for what they do. I was drained and exhausted. Not only had I lost every ounce of me in my solo performance for my solo audience, but I’d let the song and its lyrics speak to me and bring me comfort as I sang. I was transparent. Vulnerable. Bare. Naked. And completely spent.

“Gracie.” His voice was just above a whisper, and he said it so slowly, it was like a lyric that sat in the air for a bit. It sounded like he almost struggled to speak it, like something had stolen the air from his lungs.

“Calon, I’m so sorry. I know we shouldn’t be in here. I—” I looked over at Becki whose eyes were wide.

Calon didn’t say another word, but walked over slowly and stood directly in front of me. For a split second, I thought how ironic that was,
he
stood in front of me and
I
was on the stage. My mind flashed with scenes from the night he’d stepped off the stage, walked right over to me, and asked my name. Then our kiss. I felt my legs start to tremble. His presence was so huge.

He used both hands to tuck some curls behind his ears. Then he stuffed his hands in the front pockets of his jeans. His deep green eyes were mesmerizing, but didn’t quite distract me enough to forget how embarrassed I was. His lips parted then closed. He cocked his head to the side. The curls fell around his face and his exaggerated movement threw a scent of alcohol, sweat, and sexy right at me. I needed him to say something. I was frozen with fear that we had crossed the line by invading his space, embarrassed by my performance, and guilty for how long I obviously held onto the memories of what Calon and I had shared.

“Gracie, what just came out of you...” He ran his fingers through his hair again and pulled it back into a plain old rubber band he grabbed from his wrist.

I smiled. “Please. You don’t have to say anything. We’ll get out of your way. I was just messing around. I’m so sorry I’m on your stage, Calon. I’m kinda drunk, and Becki dared me to come in here and pretend to be...well, a rock star.” I stood and hung the guitar back on the wall. I walked over to where Becki was still gawking at Calon and grabbed her hand. She looked back and forth at me and Calon.

“Hi. I’m Becki. It’s so great to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you, Becki. So, you’re the daring one that broke in here?” He winked at her, and I thought she’d pass out.

“Well, duh. Don’t I look daring? I’m all about pushing the limits. I bet I could—”

“Becki! I think we should go.” I grabbed both her hands. I was so worried she would try to touch him. It was obvious by her last comment how low her inhibitions were. “Calon, I’m so sorry. Thanks for being cool about this. Please don’t tell Buzz.” I pulled Becki back up to the stage toward the exit.

“Gracie, stop!” Calon’s voice was stern, but I could tell he wasn’t yelling
at
me but rather
for
me. I turned at the door and pushed Becki out into the alley, relieved I no longer needed to be her filter.

“Calon—”

“Gracie, your voice stole my breath. I can’t—”

“Thanks. Look, I have to get her home before she attacks you. I’m sure I’ll see you around.” I waved and let the door slam shut behind us. The night was cool and I was thankful for the breeze to help me think straight. Shit, I was so attracted to him. Just standing near him was completely overwhelming.

“Holy, fuckity fuck! Gracie Ann Jordan, you kissed
those
lips? That mouth. Oh. My. Dammit. Gracie, I think I love him.”

“Come on, you can sleep off your horny at my place tonight; it’s closer than yours.” She nodded and leaned into me.

Later, when my head hit the pillow, an overwhelming sense of guilt and loss came over me. I missed Jake so badly, my chest ached. I reached for my phone and looked at the clock. It was after three, I knew he’d be asleep but I needed him to know I was thinking about him.

Me: Going to bed. I miss you.

I didn’t even have time to tuck my phone under my pillow when it chimed with an incoming text.

Jake: Miss you, too, baby girl. Sweet dreams.

A vision of him alone in his bed made me sad, but I forced myself to sleep and hoped I’d see his face soon.

Eighteen

Jake

“Hey.”

She was obviously shocked I was standing at the door. I couldn’t stand it anymore. I’d texted her every day since she walked away from me, from us. I tried to come up with reasons we had to see each other. On one hand, I was so proud of the independence she was finding, but on the other hand, it had been three days since she texted last, and I missed her so much, I could barely breathe.

“Hi, Jake.” She said my name with a sense of relief. “What are you doing here?” She opened the door farther and motioned for me to come in.

“I’m looking for the elusive Gracie Jordan. Have you seen her?” I walked closer to her as the door shut behind me.

“I’m here, Jake.”

Her sweet smile melted me. Her head tilted to the side, and I could read her mind. She was trying to figure out what we should do – hug, sit, stand. I helped her through her second-guessing and opened my arms.

“Come here, baby girl.”

“Jake?” She stood perfectly still. The same longing in her eyes was in my whole body, but I could see she was afraid to cross a line.

“Gracie. A hug. We hugged all the time before we were together.” I walked toward her as she came into my arms.

She fit me perfectly. I pressed my lips against the top of her head and breathed her in. Her breath caught and her grip tightened. I didn’t want to let go. The need to hold her for the same number of hours it had been since I touched her skin last was strong. But I had to respect her boundaries and the space she needed. Gracie was overly concerned about hurting people’s feelings. If the length of time I held her was longer than what she was ready for, she’d put her needs aside just to keep from hurting me. I forced myself to pull back and let go.

“How’s your knee.”

“Sore.”

I tried to be satisfied with small talk and ignore the discomfort in our distance, but it was difficult. Gracie and I had never held back our attraction or passion for each other. Our love was easy and honest, and now we had to try to tame something that was used to being unbridled. It hurt. It felt like someone had torn a part of my body away. The uncomfortable silence hung heavy around us. Gracie wrung her hands in front of her. At that moment, I decided I needed to be strong enough for both of us, until she knew what it felt like to be strong on her own.

“Can you stay? Can we talk?” I was surprised when she took control of the situation.

“Of course.” We walked over to the couch. I stood, waiting for her to invite me to sit next to her. If she didn’t, I’d give her space.

She sat on the very edge of the couch and patted the cushion next to her. When I sat, she turned her knees toward me and took my hands in hers.

“Jake, I shouldn’t have left that night without talking everything out first. And for that, I’m sorry. I know it seems like the coward’s way out, but I know me. I can see your heart in your eyes, and if I had to tell you I was walking away for a little while, it would stop my heart. I hope you—”

“Gracie, I understood that. I get it, and I’m proud of you for knowing yourself well enough to do what you needed to do. You need this time. I get it.” I rubbed her hands with my thumbs and smiled. “Baby girl, the thing that threw me was that you thought I could actually find someone more perfect for me than you. I don’t want anyone else, Gracie. If you decide to walk away from us because you realize you don’t feel for me what you thought you did, that’s one thing. But I can’t stand to think you would walk away to give me a free pass to find someone else. There’s no one else for me.”

“I’m sorry, Jake. I truly don’t feel like I will ever be someone who is good enough for you. I just want you to be happy.”