On Solid Ground: Sequel to in Too Deep (16 page)

“So, you have a connection with Calon.”

“Yeah, because we kissed, I guess. But that was years ago.”

“Well, you just explained to me where Calon’s intensity comes from. Do you consider yourself creative, Gracie?”

“Well, yes, more so recently. I’ve always kept journals. So, I guess writing has been my craft.” I patted my bag, indicating I’d brought one with me. “But recently, I started working through my feelings by writing poetry and lyrics. And I started playing guitar again and singing. It’s really opened up a part of me I don’t think I even knew was there.”

“So, it sounds like you and Calon could connect on more than just a couple levels. Would you describe Jake as creative?”

“Maybe in a business sense, but definitely not in the arts.” I instantly saw where she was going with her guided questioning. “You think Jake feels threatened by Calon because he doesn’t understand that creative intensity.”

“I think that could be what’s going on. Is there anything for Jake to be jealous of between you and Calon?”

“No. Well, I mean, I feel a strong connection to him, but I’m not interested in
being
with him.” I thought for a second. “The last time I saw him, I was drunk after one of his shows, and he used my cell phone to call Jake to come get me. So, I can only imagine what that looked like to Jake. He hasn’t brought it up, and it’s not like I try to run into him. I just feel bad that it could be making Jake feel insecure.”

“Well, the way Jake feels isn’t in your control. Jake will have to handle his own insecurities. That’s his deal, not yours to feel responsible for. When he sees that there’s nothing to worry about, he will let those insecurities dissipate.”

I took a deep breath to prepare for what I was going to say next. The tears came before my words. “He’s also struggling because I told him I thought I needed to get my head on straight before I tried to navigate our new relationship.” I burst into tears.

Sylvia was silent. I knew I couldn’t talk through my tears, so I reached in my bag and handed her my journal, opened to the lyrics I wrote the night I left Jake’s apartment. When I got into my bed that night, I’d jotted them down from memory since I’d left the only copy on his table. I should have known better. Those lyrics ran through my head every single day.

“Do you understand why you’re having these feelings?” She poked the lyrics with her pencil.

“I think so, but even if I didn’t, I’m hurting him.”

“Jake is a big boy; you don’t need to protect him. But you
need
to work through all of your emotions still connected to Noah. You need to do this for you.
You
, Gracie. And then you can give all of your heart to Jake.”

“I know. I just love him so much, and I feel like I owe him a lot, but instead, I pushed him away. At first, I told him he deserved better than what I could give him. So, I was letting him go so he could find someone whole. Someone worth his love.”

“Gracie, the way Noah treated you was your gauge for your self-worth. He determined your worth. You’re not there anymore. And we are going to continue working through this until you see your worth. Okay, Gracie?”

“Okay.”

“You said, ‘at first.’ So, you talked more about it?”

“Yeah. I told him I didn’t really
want
him to find someone else. I just needed to feel whole and strong for me, and then I’d feel good about opening myself up to his love and accepting all of it. I love him more than anything, Sylvia, and our emotional distance is hard on both of us.”

“Well, then show him that you love him enough to get yourself back on solid ground. You will both be glad you did.”

I left Sylvia’s office and felt like I was floating. I sat down on a bench and pulled my journal from my bag. I just started writing without a plan.

Whisper

Love is louder

What? I can’t hear you, because it sounded like you said I didn’t matter

Speak up because only cowards whisper

and love is louder

My hands shook, and I was only four lines into it. It was like my subconscious was communicating with me. There was an eerie freedom in what just happened. I rubbed my eyes and looked up to take a break from the intense emotion that just spilled out of me. Drive-thru Hank walked by and gave me a cocky salute and a wink. I started to wonder if I would be able to outrun the legacy I’d unknowingly left behind at Sigma Chi.

“Hey.” A deep voice broke through my embarrassment, and a tall body slid onto the bench with me. One look at the Doc Marten’s sticking out below his jeans told me who it was. I quickly slipped my journal back into my bag.

“How are you, Calon?” I leaned back as he stretched his arm out over the back of the bench.

“Can’t complain. Looks like you survived the other night.”

We both nodded. Awkward. He studied the look on my face. I didn’t know what expression I held, but inside I was trembling. His presence was so huge, and you only had to see him perform once to know the man was not afraid of confrontations with his emotions. I didn’t know how to handle him. It was like I was afraid he would suck feelings out of me I wasn’t ready to give up. I forced a smile and looked down at my phone in my hands.

“Gracie, I don’t bite.” He ducked his head, trying to make eye contact.

I looked up at him out of the corner of my eye and giggled. “I know that, dummy.”

“Dummy? That’s a new one. Well, now that you’re clear I don’t bite, why do you always seem so scared of me? I’m really a nice guy. I’m actually pretty sensitive.” He patted himself on the chest as if to remind me he had a heart. He looked around and whispered, “But don’t tell anyone. I have a rocker mojo to live up to.”

“Calon, I know you’re sensitive. I’ve been watching you perform for years. You wear your heart on your sleeve.”

“So, here I am, sensitive guy, just lounging on a bench, reconnecting with a girl I met a long time ago.”

“You’re just so freaking intense, Calon. I’m a little intimidated by that. Who am I kidding, I am a
lot
intimidated by it.” I couldn’t believe I just admitted all that to him.

He chuckled and threw his head back. His curls bounced around and back into place when he lifted his head and looked me in the eyes.

“We’re artists, Gracie. We’re intense.”

“No. You’re the artist, and I’m about as intense as your average tree-hanging sloth.”

“Your intensity when you sang at
Mitchell’s
last weekend knocked the wind from me.”

“I was drunk, Calon. I grew those balls from all the shots I’d done with Becki prior to our breaking and entering.”

He flashed a smile that could melt the clothes right off any one of his groupies. I actually looked down and adjusted my tank top to make sure my own clothes were still intact since I had once held groupie status.

“Listen, I know what it feels like to have a couple beers to take the edge off before a gig. But I don’t think the shots gave you courage. The alcohol just lowered the wall you have up all the time. And the intensity you hold is behind that wall.”

He dropped his arm and laid it across my shoulders. I looked up at him and was surprisingly okay with him touching me.

“Calon?”

“Yeah, Gracie?”

“The day we ran into each other at The Garage?” He nodded. “On our walk, I was busting on you about never calling me. You said something and that’s when it got intense.”

“I said, ‘
You have no idea.’”
He said those four words again with the same level of angst he had that day in front of the café.

I couldn’t breathe. The look in his eyes captured me and time stood still. I nodded so I didn’t look like a star-struck idiot.

“Gracie.” He drew in a slow, deep breath. “I felt something the night we kissed I can’t explain to this day. You wrecked me. I felt this connection then.” He waved his hand between us.

I couldn’t deny it. It was that intense connection that scared me. I couldn’t interpret it. I didn’t know where it came from, and it confused the hell out of me. My mouth went dry. Admitting we shared something I couldn’t explain made me feel very vulnerable. I thought back to what seemed like irrational jealousy from Jake when he saw me with Calon. It hit me that Jake had picked up on our connection even before
I
had. No wonder he was such a mess that day.

“So, our connection is what your comment referred to?”

“In a way, yes.”

“Calon, I’m going to be bare-assed honest with you.” I couldn’t believe what I was about to say, but I had decided the night I walked away from Jake that I was going to start being honest with myself and not push my feelings out of the way to protect people’s feelings.

“I
do
feel the connection we have, and I don’t know what to do with it. I am madly in love with Jake, but we’re taking a break while I exorcise some demons. So, I’m afraid to be comfortable with us and this intensity. I’m at a really weak point in my life right now. I’m broken, and it would kill me if something happened between us that could ruin what I have with Jake.”

“I want you to be comfortable with me, because I’d love to help you with your music. That’s part of what draws us together.”

I scoffed. “My music? Calon, that was an inebriated performance. I don’t have
music
.”

“God, Gracie! You are so frustrating. How can you deny it? What poured out of you that night was incredible. Would you play again for me?”

I shrugged. “Maybe. I don’t know.”

He took my phone from my hands and punched his number in. The sound of a motorcycle revving came from his ass. He pulled his phone out and looked at the screen.

“Oh, look. A text from Gracie.” He smiled. “Now, you can call me should you need an audience of one. I’m your one. And I promise to be nothing less than bare-assed honest with you.”

“Okay, while we’re baring our asses—”

“Well, Gracie, that’s quite forward of you.” We laughed.

“Would you read something for me?”

He motioned toward my bag. “Hand it over.” He must’ve have seen my tuck it away. He was way too observant.

He held my journal in his lap with both hands, eyes locked on what I’d written. He looked up at me and back down at the page a couple times before he cleared his throat. He stared for what seemed long enough to have read it eighteen times. I sat patiently, but after a while, I realized what was going on.

“Okay. It’s terrible. You can say it. It’s really okay because I thought it was, too.” I snatched the journal from his hands and shoved it back into my bag. I started to get up, but he grabbed my wrist and pulled me back down.

“Gracie, who hurt you?”

I stared at his strong hand that held me by the wrist. He was gentle but adamant that I not leave the bench. His intensity was still high, but a little less intimidating. I didn’t want to answer that question. I didn’t like sharing my experience with Noah. I didn’t even like saying his name. I thought back to what Sylvia had said, if I continued to pretend Noah didn’t exist, it would be harder to heal and let scabs form over the scars he’d left.

It was then I decided I needed to start using my story, my past with Noah, as a building block for who I wanted to be and how I wanted to live. I needed to be able to talk about it without choking up or starting to shake. Who better to share my deepest, darkest emotions with than someone whose soul lived on the outside of his body?

“My ex-boyfriend was emotionally abusive. I allowed him to hurt me for way too long, and he broke me in more ways than one. The poem is about him and how he made me feel.” A tear slipped from the corner of my eye.

Calon wiped it away, and I saw something in his eyes that told me our connection had hit a new level. There was empathy evident in the tilt of his head. We were both sitting on the edge of the bench, and he gently took my hands in his. About a thousand butterflies flew into my stomach.

“I’m so sorry, Gracie.”

“It’s okay. It’s over.”

“It’s never okay, don’t you get that? Never!” His voice surpassed intense. It was filled with hate and outlined with hurt.

“You’re right. It’s not. I’m struggling to work through all the shit now. It’s part of the reason I stayed at UTK for the summer.”

“I’m glad you did.”

“Me, too.” Why was he glad I stayed? Was I giving Calon the wrong idea?

“Have you heard the song ‘Hurt Makes it Beautiful’ by Hugo?”

I shook my head and tried to hold in an ocean of tears from the triggered memories of my painful past with Noah, but also from the overwhelming emotions I felt from opening up to Calon and the deep sincerity in his face.

“Promise me you’ll listen to it.”

“I will.”

“Gracie...”

“Yeah?”

“You really are incredibly talented. You’ve stolen my breath twice now, once with your voice and once with your writing. Please don’t stop doing either. They will be your best medicine, trust me.”

He stood and pulled me into his chest. He wrapped his strong arms around me, and his hand slid to the back of my neck as he rocked me ever so gently. I melted and burst into tears, completely comfortable with being in his arms. There was something safe about the way he held me.

This wasn’t his way of making a move on me. Calon hurt for me. His persona was way too big for one person. Calon Ridge had enough emotion and sensuality for the entire band, and it was all housed within his tall, slender physique.

On the way home, I downloaded the Hugo song. The acoustic guitar at the beginning immediately captivated me. I sat down alone on another bench and took in a song that described both how Noah sold me on his lies and why he did what he did; he’d cut me just to heal me. The words were painful to listen to and had my body covered in goosebumps in no time, but it validated the hell I’d lived through. Hugo’s words had a blinded-by-love theme. It struck me that lyrics I’d never heard before had the same tone and emotion I’d written in “Whisper.”

The realization that there were others out there who’d fought against similar demons lifted just a little more weight from my heart. I was comforted by the notion that I didn’t stand alone; I was one of many. My soul took a cleansing breath and moved a little closer to the surface.