20. Kiss from a Rose – Dakota
20
KISS FROM A ROSE
DAKOTA
T he soft light of dawn filters through Lauren's curtains. I trace my fingers lightly along her arm, committing every detail to memory. Her hair is tousled from sleep, her lips slightly parted. The sight of her makes my chest ache in a way I haven't felt in years.
I should leave. Roman will be up soon, and although he knows me, Lauren and I agreed it's best not to complicate things further right now. But I can't seem to make myself move.
Lauren stirs, her eyes fluttering open. A slow smile spreads across her face as she focuses on me. "Morning," she murmurs, voice husky with sleep.
"Morning," I whisper back, leaning in to brush a soft kiss against her lips.
She glances at the clock and sighs. "You should probably go soon."
"Yeah," I agree, but I make no move to get up. Instead, I pull her closer, burying my face in her hair.
Lauren chuckles softly. "Dakota..."
"I know, I know," I groan, finally forcing myself to sit up. I reach for my jeans on the floor, but as I do, a melody starts to form in my head. Fragments of lyrics follow, raw and unfiltered.
I grab my phone from the nightstand, opening the voice memo app. "Hold on," I mutter to Lauren, hitting record.
I hum the melody softly, then whisper-sing:
"Ghosts of the past, always at our heels
Scars still raw, time hasn't healed
But in this moment, between night and day
We found a shelter, where shadows fade away"
I pause the recording, the weight of the words hanging in the air. It's not perfect, but it's honest. It captures the complexity of what's growing between us, acknowledging our pasts while celebrating this fragile new beginning.
Lauren props herself up on an elbow, watching me with a mix of curiosity and something deeper. "New song?"
I nod, suddenly feeling exposed. "Just trying to capture this. Us. It's not finished, obviously."
She reaches out, running her fingers through my hair. "It's beautiful," she says softly. "And a little haunting."
I lean into her touch, closing my eyes. "That's us, isn't it? Beautiful and a little haunting."
A creak in the hallway makes us both freeze. We hold our breath, listening. After a moment, we hear the soft patter of little feet heading towards the bathroom.
"Time's up," I mutter, scrambling out of bed. I pull on my jeans and search for my shirt, finding it tangled in the sheets.
Lauren helps me dress, her movements quick but her touch lingering. As I shrug on my jacket, she pulls me in for one last, fierce kiss.
"Call me later?" she asks, a hint of vulnerability in her voice.
I cup her face in my hands, meeting her eyes. "Count on it. This isn't goodbye. It's just... see you later."
She nods, a small smile tugging at her lips. I give her one last quick kiss before slipping out of the bedroom.
I make it to the front door just as I hear Roman's voice calling out, "Mommy?"
As I step outside, closing the door quietly behind me, I feel a pang in my chest. Part of me wants to stay, to ruffle Roman's hair and see his gap-toothed grin. But I know Lauren's right – we need to take this slow, for Roman's sake as much as our own.
I head to my car, already missing the warmth of Lauren's bed, of Lauren herself. But as I slide behind the wheel, I find myself humming the new melody. I may be leaving, but I'm taking something with me – the start of a new song, and the promise of something real with Lauren.
I pull out my phone again, adding one last line before I drive away:
"In this limbo between healing and pain
We dare to hope, to feel alive again"
The words still aren't perfect, but they're true. And for now, that's enough.
The streets of LA are surprisingly quiet as I drive to our practice space. My fingers tap out the rhythm of the new song on the steering wheel, my mind still back in Lauren's house.
I pull into the parking lot of the nondescript warehouse we rent. Brad's car is already there. Perfect. I grab my bass and the notebook where I scribbled down the lyrics, then head inside.
The familiar smell of stale beer and amp dust greets me as I push open the door. Brad's sitting on a beat-up couch, acoustic guitar in hand, looking up as I enter.
"Morning, sunshine," he grins. "You look like you've had an interesting night."
I glance down at myself briefly, not seeing anything too crazy, a little wrinkled maybe. “Why’s that?”
“You haven’t changed clothes since yesterday.”
I roll my eyes but can't hide my smile. "Whatever. Listen, I've got something I want to run by you."
Brad raises an eyebrow, setting his guitar aside. "Oh? Let's hear it."
I pull out my phone, playing the voice memo I recorded at Lauren's. As the rough melody and lyrics fill the room, I watch Brad's face. His expression shifts from curiosity to concentration, fingers tapping out the rhythm on his knee.
When it ends, he nods slowly, scratching at his dark blonde beard. "There's definitely something there. It's different from our usual stuff, but... I like it. It's raw. Real."
"Yeah," I agree, sitting down next to him. "I think it could be something special."
Brad gives me a knowing look. "This about that waitress? Lauren, right?"
I nod, suddenly finding the frayed edge of my jeans very interesting. "Yeah. We, uh... things are getting serious."
"I can tell," Brad says softly. Then he sighs. "Look, Dakota... you know I'm happy for you, right? But the tour..."
"I know," I cut him off. "Believe me, I know. But this... it feels different, Brad. She's different."
Brad's quiet for a moment, strumming a few chords absently. "You haven't really gotten serious with anyone since Chloe, have you?"
I shake my head, feeling the familiar ache at the mention of my late wife. "No. Didn't feel right. Until now."
"Being on the road, it's tough on relationships," Brad says gently. "Even established ones. And you're just starting out with Lauren."
I run a hand through my hair, frustration bubbling up. "So what, I shouldn't even fucking try? Just stick to groupies and one-night stands forever?"
"That's not what I'm saying," Brad says calmly. "I'm saying you need to be prepared. Set expectations. Communicate. And most importantly, don't let it affect the band."
I nod slowly, knowing he's right. "Any tips from the Brad Chambers guide to long-distance relationships?"
He chuckles. "Schedule regular calls, no matter how busy things get. Be honest about the temptations on the road, but reassure her, too. And maybe... write her songs. Not just sad, missing-you songs, but ones that make her feel like she's there with you."
I smile, feeling some of the tension ease from my shoulders. "Thanks, man. I appreciate it."
Brad claps me on the shoulder. "Anytime. Now, let's see if we can turn this love-struck rambling of yours into an actual song, yeah?"
The rehearsal space buzzes with pre-tour energy. Emmett's tapping out a restless beat on his practice pad, Stefan's fiddling with his guitar pedals, and Brad's warming up his voice in the corner. But I'm only half-listening as Ian, our manager, goes over the tour itinerary.
"So, we'll kick off in San Diego, then head up the coast," Ian's saying, his British accent thick as his finger traces the route on a map. "We've got two nights in San Francisco, then it's on to Portland..."
My pen moves across my notebook, but it's not tour dates I'm jotting down. It's more lyrics, fragments of another melody that's been haunting me for days.
Her smile like a sunrise, breaking through the dark
A beacon of hope, igniting a spark
In a world of chaos, I’m safe in her arms
In a sea of doubt, she's my calm
"Dakota? You with us, man?"
I snap back to attention, realizing everyone's looking at me. "Yeah, sorry. Just, uh, working on some lyrics."
Brad raises an eyebrow. "Another new song?"
I nod, feeling a flush creep up my neck. "Maybe. It's still pretty fucking rough."
Ian clears his throat, looking mildly annoyed. "As I was saying, we've got a string of Midwest dates after Chicago. It's going to be a grueling schedule, so I need everyone focused."
I nod, trying to concentrate. But my mind keeps drifting back to Lauren. To her laugh, her resilience, the way her eyes light up when she talks about her dreams.
She's a symphony in a world of noise
A melody that brings me joy
With every note, every line
She makes this broken heart of mine
Feel alive, feel alive
"Alright, let's run through the setlist," Brad says, breaking me out of my reverie. "Dakota, you good to start with 'Midnight Mirage' ?"
I nod, setting aside my notebook and picking up my bass. As we launch into the song, I try to focus on the music, on the rhythm, and the interplay with my bandmates. But even as my fingers find the familiar notes, part of me is still with Lauren.
Three months. Three months on the road, away from her, from the connection we've been building. It feels like a fucking eternity.
As we finish the song, Stefan gives me a knowing look. "So, this new song... it wouldn't happen to be about a certain waitress, would it?"
I feel my cheeks heat up. "Maybe."
Emmett grins. "Man, you've got it bad."
"Alright, alright," Brad interjects, but he's smiling too. "Let's focus, guys. We've got a tour to prepare for."
As we dive back into rehearsal, I can't help but sneak glances at my notebook. The lyrics might be rough, the melody still forming, but the feeling behind them... that's real.
That's powerful.
And for the first time in years, I'm excited to see where these songs - and this relationship - might lead.
I finally have a muse.