Page 11 of The Long Refrain (Sweet Southern #4)

11

BENJI

DECEMBER 2027

F rance changed something between us. Maybe it was the way I handled Nolan when I realized it wasn’t the fight he wanted, it was the tender care that no one has ever shown him in his life. I’m losing track of time as we roll on. France to Sweden and now to South America.

Christmas was me and Nolan alone in a beautifully expensive hotel room in Brazil to wait out the next part of the tour. Nolan didn’t even care that it was Christmas Day. He was unusually quiet minus the strumming of his guitar as I called my moms to wish them a merry Christmas. As time goes on, Nolan becomes more sullen, not meeting my gaze even when I beg to take him out on dates. I can’t shake the feeling that something is wrong. I don’t know how to fix it, fix whatever the divide is between us.

Three months in each other’s pockets and I can confidently say this isn’t transactional anymore. Nolan means something to me. I can see right through his woeful attempts to kick me away. Every slash of his claws reveals himself a little more to me. He has a soft underbelly that he’s terrified people might see. When he gently cups my face, eyes staring up at me in wonder, I know that’s the real Nolan behind whatever careful shield he puts up.

It’s New Year’s Eve now, the first show was yesterday, and there’s another tomorrow. But today we are free just to be with each other. I’ve come to look forward most to these days. They’re usually the days Nolan lets me be kind, even sweet, and handle him in a way that works for both of us.

The hotel room is too quiet, it’s wrong. Dressed in just sweatpants, I pad through the rooms until I come to the balcony that lines the large living room. A rumple of clothing on the ground outside sends my heart skyrocketing through my chest, until I inch closer and find that Nolan’s just lying on the ground. His head is tilted to the sky, lips pursed deeply in thought.

He doesn’t hear me coming because of the headphones covering his ears. But my shadow forces his head to turn my way, his eyes still hauntingly distant. I lower myself to join him on the hard concrete. I inch closer until we’re almost touching, but not. I let my pinkie softly graze the palm of his hand where it rests on the ground. Nolan’s eyes close softly at my touch.

“What are you doing out here?” I ask quietly, knowing he’ll hear me despite the music in his headphones.

He turns his head back to the sky. “Staring at the sky. They have good birds here.”

I turn my head to look up at the bright blue sky. Only a few clouds dot the expanse above, but a handful of birds float along on the wind. Carefree and beautiful.

“They look happy.”

“I’ve always wanted to be a bird,” Nolan murmurs, sounding utterly defeated.

“Why a bird?”

Nolan clears his throat awkwardly. “So I could fly away, high up into the sky and never be found.”

It’s a perfectly Nolan answer that still somehow has the ability to shoot me straight through the heart. I roll over on the hard ground to lean over him. His dark brown eyes flick from the sky to my face, a small moment of relief passing over him. I cup his cheek in one hand, gently sweeping my thumb under his tired eye.

“We could be birds together, fly away from here. Sound good?”

Nolan’s eyes close slowly, his exhausted breath puffing against my palm. “Okay, Benji.”

Unable to stand the sight of him so pained, I swoop down to kiss him softly. I smile against his mouth when his fingers tangle in my shirt, tugging me down to rest my weight against him.

“What do you normally do on New Year’s Eve?” Nolan asks when I pull away. He’s been asking these sorts of questions lately, clearly wanting to know what my life is like outside of him, when I’m away from tour.

“Usually I go to a party with my best friends.”

Nolan hums quietly as he squeezes my wrist. “Tell me.”

“Well…” I scrunch my face in thought, trying to remember last New Year’s. “Jackson usually gets us into the good parties. The four of us go and have a good time. We dance and drink and scope out guys. Usually only Eli would go home with someone, he’s the prize. But now Eli is happily almost basically married to a former client. Trevor is settled down with this huge farmer. Like seriously, he’s a giant. Jackson is, well… I don’t keep in touch with him as much as I should. We fight like cats and dogs.”

Nolan looks thoughtful for a moment. “Why do you fight?”

“Oil and vinegar. We just think so differently.”

“I used to fuck Trevor,” Nolan says as if I don’t already know that.

“I know.”

Nolan’s eyes turn sad, but he darts his gaze away. “I was rough with him. I don’t think he liked it much.”

“It was a job.”

“And Eli? I never met him.”

I smile despite myself. “Eli is everything good in this world.”

“I believe it, the way you look when you talk about him.”

I swallow thickly, suddenly missing them all so much. “I miss them a lot. They’re… my family in a way.”

Nolan reaches out to pat my cheek. “You should call them. Say happy New Year.”

Nolan rolls up to sitting. He gives one final lingering look at the sky, before heaving himself to his feet with a withering sigh. I watch as he disappears into the hotel room, leaving the glass door wide open without a care in the world.

I pull out my phone because the urge to speak to one of my best friends is so strong, I could cry at the idea. Trevor wins the lottery today.

The phone rings before Trevor picks up. “Benji! How’s it going? I’ve been thinking about you constantly.”

“I… Trevor, I’m not doing so great.”

“Hold on,” Trevor murmurs quietly. The sound of him moving around filters through the phone. Distantly, I think I hear waves. “Benji, tell me.”

“Are you at the beach?”

Trevor breathes hard through his nose. “We’re all at Colby’s beach house.”

Oh. I wish I was there. I miss them all so much, even Jackson. “Nolan isn’t what I thought. He… Trevor, I don’t know what to do. I think I’m in like with him.”

“In like,” Trevor repeats carefully.

“Feelings are involved now. I want to keep him.”

“Oh, Sunshine.”

The sound of my real name doesn’t even piss me off, it just makes my heart miss a beat in my chest, painful and raw. “Did he ever seem… off to you? Like, not okay?”

“Every time,” Trevor admits, voice pitched low. “But I was an escort. What was I supposed to do? He paid me to fuck him and bite him and leave bruises on him. And he left those bruises on me too. That’s all it was with us. Nothing more.”

“He lets me see him.”

Trevor goes eerily silent. “What do you mean?”

“I think… Jesus, Trevor. I’ve got to save him.”

“I hear you, Benji. But I also don’t think you’re capable of handling this by yourself. I really think you need to talk to Claire.”

“No, no. I can’t tell Claire. She’ll… she’ll pull me. I can’t leave Nolan. I can’t leave him.” The idea of leaving Nolan is terrifying.

“Jackson’s here. He wants to talk to you,” Trevor rushes out.

I close my eyes tightly and press the heel of my hand to my forehead. My heart is beating rapidly in my chest. I feel sick like I could puke up all my internal organs. The sound of guitar filters out of the hotel room, prickling at my overwhelmed senses. God, I don’t know what the fuck to do. But I have to be strong. I can’t… Nolan reminds me of my mom so badly. When she was at her worst when I was a kid, I can’t see Nolan going through that, too.

“Are you safe? Did he hurt you?” Jackson asks, voice gruff and worried.

“No, no, Jackson,” I whisper, voice barely audible. “I’m fine.”

“You’ve got Trevor pretty worried. Tell me what’s going on,” Jackson demands, leaving no room for argument.

I blow out a shaky breath. “I’m fine. I promise. Tell Trevor to chill. I just needed… I needed someone to know.”

“Know what?”

“That I’m in way over my head,” I admit before hanging up.

I turn back to the living room to find Nolan sitting on the couch, carefully strumming the cords of the guitar. The tune is oddly familiar, reminding me of the records that my moms used to play late at night after they thought I’d gone to sleep. When I step into the hotel room, Nolan’s gaze stays on the guitar, but his lips start to move with the haunting lyrics. Words about time and loss and his voice is so haunting that my stomach curdles as I stand barefoot before him.

He finishes and slowly lifts his head to look at me. “‘Time in a Bottle.’”

“Nolan,” I say, carefully stepping closer.

“That’s my favorite song,” Nolan whispers.

The moment is so fraught, the rope holding us together pulled so tight I’m afraid it might snap. I want to call Trevor back and ask him to hold my hand. I want Eli to come and stand beside me, just quiet and full of life. I want Jackson to come and tell me I’m not fucking up. I want my friends so badly that my heart cracks into small little splinters. I don’t know what to do anymore. Nolan’s slipping out of my grasp and I feel so alone.

“Benji,” Nolan says quietly. “Go take a shower, put on a nice outfit and a smile, then join me on the balcony, okay?”

“Nolan.”

His smile could shatter a million hearts. “Please?”

My feet carry me to the shower. I do as he said, using Nolan’s preferred shower gel so that I smell like him when I’m done. With wet hair, and pain in the pit of my stomach, I dress quickly and hurry to rejoin Nolan on the balcony.

This time, my stomach plummets to the ground. Nolan sits on the railing of the balcony, legs dangling over the edge. He doesn’t turn to look at me when my steps echo out onto the cold concrete. Heart pounding in my chest, I do the only thing I can think of to do. I climb up on the railing beside him, fighting desperately against the dizzy vertigo that overtakes me.

Nolan turns his head slowly. “What are you doing?”

“Being with you,” I answer softly.

Nolan stares at me. “I can’t do this anymore, Benji. Do you understand? I have to…” He trails off and gestures at the ten stories below us. Cars honk and pass by, no doubt getting ready for a night of celebration. Nobody knows Nolan Hastings is about to jump and end it all. And nobody knows I’m going to follow him down.

“If you jump, I jump too. I can’t let you die alone. You’ve spent so much of your life alone. I…” A cry gets caught in my throat. “I can’t let you be alone in those last moments too.”

A tear slides down Nolan’s cheek. “What?”

“I… I’ll go with you.”

“No.”

“Yes,” I say as I shakily nod. “It’s us, okay?”

“Us.” Nolan repeats the word like he doesn’t understand it.

“Can I… Can I tell you what my dream is?”

Nolan quirks his head. “Okay.”

I curl my fingers over the railing and take a deep, shaky breath. “I’m going to paint you a picture. My dream is that we climb down off this ledge and call Chris. I tell Chris that the tour is over, canceled. You’re not okay. You need time and healing and help. I take you to Clay Springs, where my best friends are, and we get you some help and medicine so your brain can work the way it needs to. And you let me love you even though I’m just some stupid golden retriever. ’Cause I think… I think we could have a great life once you accept some help. And I’ll hold your hand every step and cheer you on and to me you’re just Nolan, the man who makes me laugh and feel like I’m doing something good in this world that sometimes gets really fucking dark. You’re beautiful, Nolan. I wish you were mine, just mine.”

Nolan’s chest stops moving halfway through my speech as if the breath is caught in his lungs. He looks down at the street below, his fingers curled against the railing right beside mine. My skin tingles when his skin touches mine.

“I can’t picture a future when my brain is so cloudy and loud.”

“I’ll picture it,” I tell him firmly.

His gaze returns to me. “I’m not sure I’m good at… at being okay. I haven’t been okay for so long. I think the only way out is… for it to end.”

“I can’t make the decision for you. But if you decide to stay, I’ll get you the help you need to stop feeling this way. We’ll… we can try to make it better. My mom tried to kill herself when I was little. She tells me all the time that, at the moment, it felt like the only way out, but it wasn’t. She just didn’t know how to find her way in the dark.”

Nolan’s gaze is so heavy. “How long ago was that?”

“Seventeen years. She sees a therapist, takes medicine, and lives on the freaky commune with my mama. Life got so much better once she got some help. Do you want to talk to her?”

Nolan raises a shaky hand to his eyes. God, he’s so close to falling. I curl my fingers tighter against the railing in case I have to reach out to grab him. He doesn’t want to die; he just doesn’t see the other option. Not yet.

“She regretted it?”

I nod shakily. “Very much.”

“I…” Nolan trails off and looks down. “What’s Clay Springs like?”

“Magic. Let me show you.”

Nolan takes a deep breath, and for one terrifying, very long second, I ready myself to watch him jump. But he doesn’t. He deftly swings his legs over the other side and jumps to the ground. The moment freezes, air caught between us like right before a storm. Right before the lightning strikes. And when I join him on the firm, beautiful ground of the balcony, it feels like lightning strikes, and the thunder echoes between us.

“Nolan,” I say quickly, just before the tears start to fall.

He dives into my arms, and I hug him close, breathing in his comforting scent. Sweat and amber and something so promising that it feels like the future suddenly finally fucking exists for us both.

“I still want to die,” Nolan admits, voice tender and raw.

“I know, but it’ll get better. I won’t leave you. It’s us now, it’s us.”

Nolan nods, and I pull him close, squeezing him tight until he feels safe in my arms, no longer afloat on whatever ocean of pain that was trying to sweep him out to sea. We stand there for so long that time starts losing any meaning. I just want to hold him in my arms forever, give him comfort, and make him feel safe. That’s all.

But time has to move on, and I have things to take care of now.

When I pull away, I hustle Nolan inside and sit him down on the sofa. After a text to Chris, I patiently wait for him to arrive. Nolan’s eyes are downcast, caught on where our hands lie tangled over his thin thigh.

The sound of a keycard swiping through the door is the only notice we get before Chris strides into the room. He takes one look at Nolan and pauses, stride caught halfway, eyes flicking between us.

“Okay, so…” I glance at Nolan, then back to Chris. “The tour needs to be over. I’m taking Nolan home. He needs… help.”

“Okay,” Chris says quietly.

“He’s not okay.”

Chris swallows loudly. “Did he… did you…”

“No,” Nolan mumbles, clearly already over the entire conversation.

“I’ll handle the label, don’t worry about it. Everything is fine. It’s going to be okay. Nolan… Nolan, it’ll be okay,” Chris says again, voice sounding how it would if he was addressing a small child.

I forget sometimes that outside of this tour, outside of Nolan Hastings, all these people have lives. Chris has mentioned family and children before, and I see it very clearly now in the way he approaches Nolan. Maybe one day Nolan will be able to see what’s right in front of him, that so many people care about him without him even realizing it.

“I want to go home with Benji,” Nolan says, lip trembling on the words.

Chris’s gaze pings back to me. “Where’s home?”

I squeeze Nolan’s hand tightly in mine. “Clay Springs.”