Page 7 of Tracing Holland (The Hold Me NSB #2)

New Orleans, Louisiana

I never did tell Casey and Callie about my trip to visit Elena’s grave.

It was an important, but difficult, milestone on my journey, and I’m not ready to talk about it yet.

Besides, if I know them at all, they’ll feel guilty, or something ridiculous like that, for letting me go alone, even though that’s exactly what I needed.

At some point they’re going to have to let me spread my wings and attempt this “life” thing on my own.

I hear voices as I approach the open door and hesitate when I recognize Holland’s.

“I’m so sorry to hear all of that, Steven. You take all the time you need, ok?” Her tone is gentle, and I can sense the compassion even from this distance.

“Thank you so much. I hate to leave you right at the beginning, though,” the other voice replies. Young, male.

“I know. But your family comes first. We’ll be fine. Don’t worry about us. I’m sure the NSB crew can help us until we get someone else in here.”

“Ok. Well, tell them to call me as soon as they can. They need to make sure they do everything right.”

Holland chuckles. “Of course. We’ll make sure everything is perfect. Oh, wait, here’s my cell number just in case. Let me know if there’s anything you need. I told Darlene to cover your ticket home, so stop in and connect with her next.”

“What? No, Holland! That’s not…”

“Stop! It’s not a big deal. Just take care of your family, ok?”

“Thank you. I…” I can hear the emotion in his voice.

“It’s nothing. Thanks for all you do. Take as much time as you need and we’ll see you when you get back.”

“Thank you. Thank you!”

I wait until “Steven” exits the room and shuffles past before making my own entrance.

When I do, I also see Jesse, Parker, and Reece from Limelight, along with a few crewmembers, seated around various tables.

We exchange some polite greetings and I continue toward Holland who’s scanning the table of assorted bagels, pastries, and fruit.

“Morning,” I say, grabbing a plate.

“Morning,” she replies. Her smile is genuine today, and I relax a little.

“Losing Steven?”

She sighs and shakes her head. “Yeah, so sad. His grandmother just passed. I sent him home to be with his family. Poor kid.”

“Wow, that’s awful. I’m sorry to hear that.” I pause. “Just tell me what you need. I’ll talk to Tess and make sure you’re covered.”

She seems surprised when she glances over, and I’m uncomfortable at the evidence of her low expectations of me.

“Oh, wow. Ok, thanks. Yeah, we’ll need a backline tech. At least for tonight.”

I nod. “Done. Gary’s great. He’ll help you out.”

She still seems like she’s confused by my generosity, and I look away.

“Great show last night,” I continue before it gets more awkward.

“Thank you for checking it out! I’m so honored. It was like having Beethoven sit in on your piano recital,” she laughs, following me to the drink table.

I smirk. “Um…yeah right. More like Beethoven grabbing coffee with Hayden. Anyway, I didn’t really have a choice. Callie said I’d regret it if I didn’t.”

Holland laughs. “Callie is awesome. I freaking love her.”

I grin. We finally agree on something. “She’s the best.” I fill my coffee cup and move so she has access. “I wanted to tell you, I love how you transition from ‘Perfect Storm’ to ‘Answers.’ It’s genius.”

“Really? You think so? Thank you,” she replies, almost shy. I’m not sure how to respond, so I just watch her as she makes her own drink selection. Callie’s ruined me forever when it comes to observing people and their food choices. The term “fruit cup” still makes me smile.

Holland goes for coffee, two creamers.

“We played around with a few different ideas,” she continues, and I love her sudden animation when she talks music.

The same thing happens to Casey. It used to happen to me also.

Maybe it will again one day. “There’s a key change, so Wes wanted to just modulate up like normal, but then I thought, why not tie in the ‘Acrobat’ hook instead?

Then we can finish with the full version of ‘Acrobat’ at the end of the set. ”

“I love it. It works really well. I couldn’t catch all of the end, but I totally see that coming together.”

She gives me another smile and moves away from the table. I’m about to find my own when she calls me back with, “you wanna sit?”

Shocked, I pause for a moment before following her. I take the seat across from her at a table away from the others.

“I’m sorry again about yesterday. On the bus,” she begins, almost embarrassed. “That was so awkward and totally my fault. You were being nice, so thank you for that. How was your movie? Were you able to get any rest?”

I force a weak smile. “I ended up not watching one. Went for a walk instead.” It’s not entirely a lie.

She takes a sip of her coffee. “Oh, ok. Well, that must have been nice. Get some fresh air and stretch a bit.”

I swallow, unable to look at her. “Yeah. Um…so how’s your writing going?” I ask quickly. I used all my tears yesterday. I have no interest in going there again.

She sighs. “Fine, if you count the fact that I have a chorus I love and two verses I despise.”

I laugh. “You know it took me a month and a half to come up with a decent verse for ‘Forget Me.’”

Her eyes widen. “Over a month? Are you serious? I love ‘Forget Me!’”

I grin. “Well, you wouldn’t have before, believe me.

I could not get the word ‘forever’ out of my head.

I kept wanting to rhyme it with ‘never’ but it just wasn’t working and completely blocked any other possibility.

Casey was pissed because the music was so good, but I could not get the lyrics to work. ”

It’s her turn to laugh and shake her head. “Oh man, I totally hear you. I once got stuck on ‘cross-stitch.’”

I can’t hold in my snort and actually have to set my drink down. “Wait, what? Cross-stitch? How was that even in the running in the first place?”

She grins and covers her face. “I know! I have no idea. I was trying to explore this idea of two souls weaving themselves into a fabric, and after ending the previous line with ‘chase it,’ my brain insisted on using the word ‘cross-stitch’ for whatever reason.”

I laugh again and return to my coffee. “I mean, it kind of works then, I guess,” I offer with another smile. “Guess we’re both shitty songwriters.”

She returns my grin, her blue eyes making a direct connection with mine. I suck in my breath at the sudden, volatile reaction of my body. Racing pulse, blood rushing to places it hasn’t in a long time. Shit. What is happening?

I wonder if she feels it too when she quickly looks away. There’s a tangible distance again, and I swallow.

“Is it true you have a ’43 J45?” she blurts before things get too uncomfortable. I’m stunned by the random question, but grateful at the same time. We still have food on our plates, and she hasn’t given up. I would have.

“How’d you know about that?” I ask in amusement.

She shrugs. “Not sure, actually. Just remember reading it somewhere.”

I shake my head with a grin. “Yeah. I’ve had it for a couple years. She’s my angel.”

Holland sighs. “I would seriously climb over dead bodies just to touch it.”

I laugh. “Uh, how about I just let you play it later.”

Her eyes ignite as her jaw nearly hits the table. “Wait, are you serious? You have it here?”

I grin, loving the light in her expression and the fact that my words put it there. “Yeah. It’s on my bus.”

“I… seriously?”

I shake my head, still laughing. “Seriously. We’ll meet up later. Wait until you hear this thing. It’ll blow your mind.”

She’s already drooling which only cements my offer. “I still don’t believe you. Nope, you’re lying. You’re just trying to torture me.”

I snicker. “Even I’m not that cruel. I’m serious. Whenever you want.”

“Yes! Let’s go!” she cries, throwing down her fork, and I laugh again.

“Well, you can finish your food first. We’re not on for a while,” I remind her. She sighs and picks it back up.

“Ok, fine. I’m not kidding, though, Luke. If you’re messing with me, I will gut you.”

I grin and hold up my hands. “Whoa, take it easy. I swear. She’s all yours for as long as you want her.”

Her hard gaze continues to bore into me until she finally seems satisfied with my promise. I’m still grinning as she settles back into her seat.

“Have you played The Mercer Center before?” I ask, resuming the conversation.

She shakes her head and pokes her fork at a slice of pineapple. “No, I haven’t. What about you?”

I nod. “A couple times. I love arena concerts. The energy is phenomenal.”

“Yeah? Sweet. I’m looking forward to it.”

“You may want to keep both ears in the whole time, though. The echo there can be…”

“Can I sit?”

Holland turns around at the new voice, and I glance up at the intruder. I’d seen him coming but was hoping to delay the interruption as long as possible. I’ve only spoken to him once so far and it wasn’t exactly a brotherly moment.

“Oh, hey, Wes! Yeah, have a seat. Just chatting about The Mercer Center. Luke says it’s a killer venue.”

“Hey, man. Morning,” Wes says, and I return his forced greeting.

“We played it on our last tour. It was pretty sick,” I explain.

Wes glances at me. “Really? You weren’t on the last tour though, right?”

I freeze.

“Wes…” Holland hisses, and I swallow hard.

“No, I guess I meant the one before that then,” I manage, my heart pounding.

Wes shrugs, and I swear there’s something dark in his expression. “Oh ok. Hey, you know what? Touring gets old. I totally got it when you left.”

I stifle my glare and start to gather my trash. “Sure. Thanks,” I mutter. “I should get going.”

“Hey, man, sorry. Didn’t mean to upset you. I just… you know… We all need a break every so often. No big deal.”

This time, I don’t even bother with polite pretense. He’s certainly not as he meets my gaze with a clear challenge.

“Enjoy your breakfast,” I spit, rising from the table.