Chapter 20
Dalton
IF SOMEONE HAD asked me yesterday if I’d be spending Christmas Day alone, I would have probably told them yes.
This morning, I woke up to find that Raleigh had stayed.
I suppose it still remains to be seen if I will be spending the holiday alone as Raleigh’s just now starting to stir on my couch, and she hasn’t officially said she’ll stay.
Quietly bringing down two coffee mugs from the overhang above the island I see the back of her head appear as she sits up.
Her hands go to her cheeks as she takes in the room around her.
When she finally turns toward the kitchen she raises a hand in greeting and pushes the hair from her face.
I raise my hand back, and debate whether I should tell her that I definitely was not watching her sleep as I started the coffee this morning.
She doesn’t question me. Rising from the couch, she quickly swoops up the pile of sweatpants and t-shirt I’d put on the coffee table.
I was hoping she wouldn’t bolt out of the apartment first thing this morning and that hope is fulfilled.
As she makes her way toward the bathroom, I make sure there’s a fresh cup of coffee at a place made for her at the kitchen table. I took it upon myself to make breakfast, just an omelet, but in all my days of knowing Raleigh, I’ve never seen her eat a big meal.
As I fold the egg over, Raleigh pads her way into the kitchen wearing Christmas stockings I hadn’t noticed yesterday. “Merry Christmas,” I say over my shoulder, not wanting to seem too keen. Though, all I want to do is look at her in my clothes with her messy hair.
“Merry Christmas,” she mumbles back, clearly still not fully awake. “Thanks for the change of clothes.” She thumps down into her hardback chair and pulls her legs to her chest. “And for the coffee.” Turning with her omelet on the spatula, I slide it onto her plate. “And breakfast…”
“Plenty more Christmas gifts this morning if you hang out with me today.”
“I don’t take kindly to bribes.” She takes a sip of her coffee. “Besides, it'd be rude to accept anything else since I didn’t bring you anything.” She lets out a nervous breath as I take the chair across from her.
“Trust me, your presence is more than enough.”
She smiles at that. With a playful swipe of her hair she pushes it back behind her ear and then digs into her omelet.
Our shared breakfast is easier than it should be.
Raleigh and I eat our fill and sip our drinks in the aura of the radio.
Raleigh receives a few texts throughout the meal.
She tells me they’re from Mae, but I’m not so sure because she doesn’t light up as she usually does when it’s Mae contacting her.
My own phone ringing startles the both of us. “It’s my parents,” I say with a laugh. The two retired to Florida years ago and they FaceTime me every year, or “Face Call” as they’ve named it.
Raleigh seems unfazed as I answer and am met with the two of them yelling, “Merry Christmas!” My mother goes on about their retirement community and how Sandra had the audacity to ride her golf cart through the lawn again.
As the story drones on, my eyes flick over the screen to find Raleigh staring at me with a lopsided smirk on her face.
I’m glad I could pull a smile out of her, even if it's from the humiliation of my parents.
“Son, we know you’ll be over at Dustin’s later so we’ll give you a longer call then,” my dad says with that same crinkle in his eye from my childhood.
“Yes dear, we hope you have a relaxing morning, and we’ll call you later. If you get lonely, you call us right back.”
“I will, Mom.”
Raleigh’s phone buzzes again, and this time she outright frowns. Before she can get up to gather her things and leave, I hurry through my goodbyes and press to end the call. I catch Raleigh by the hand right in time.
“I should really be leaving,” she says. I swear there’s a crack in her voice. I don’t want to press, but I don’t think I can handle her being sad, not on Christmas.
“Raleigh, I’ve got to ask . . .”
She tenses up before I’ve asked anything of her, but in her usual bravery, she squeezes my hand and steps back toward her chair. Pulling her hand away she crosses her arms. “What do you have to ask?”
A million questions cross my mind about her, her ex, her piano playing prowess and the performance she put on last night.
I want to know everything about her, but in this moment, when I look into her eyes, all I see is hurt, and I want it to go away.
“I just want to know if you’re happy. And if you’re not, if there’s anything I can do to help. ”
Her shoulders dip slightly at this. “Now that is one loaded question. One that I will need a lot more coffee in order to answer.”
I hop to my feet and am quick to get to the coffee maker.
The new distance between us seems to calm her down a bit because she begins her story before I’ve even started a new pot.
“I really don’t know how you didn’t know this about me, but I first came to Nashville to be a singer.
To be a star.” She scoffs. “There are videos of me at the Bluebird, the Ryman, the whole nine yards.” She tells me about how life back in Arkansas had not been what she wanted.
At the time, she had thought Grant wanted out as well.
“We got along really well together, our voices and love for each other. I thought he was going to take me all the way to the top with his songwriting skills and our voices together, but it turns out, it wasn’t at all what he had in mind.
“We struggled for the first few years, getting minor gigs here and there, playing back up for a few bigger names. We heard more ‘no’s’ than you could imagine, and it was hard on him.”
“It had to have been hard on both of you.” She looks up at me for the first time since beginning her story and nods. I suppose no one has ever validated her feelings like that.
“We were so close, one song away from getting the only ‘yes’ that mattered. I could taste it, and for a while, I thought he could too but—” She bites her lip and looks down to her lap again.
“Hey, it’s okay if you don’t want to tell me any more.” She reaches out her hand, but is too nervous to lift her gaze to mine. I take her hand without hesitation. I need her to know that I’m here for her.
She takes another deep breath as my fingers curl into hers. “With the way things are between us, you deserve to know.” I try not to get hung up on her admittance of something going on between us as she dives into her previous relationship.
“Things were going well, we were in conversations with multiple labels in town.” She squeezes my hand, head still downcast as if she’s embarrassed of the world treating her wrong.
“He asked me to marry him.” This statement nearly blows me backwards, but still, I hold onto her like a lifeline.
“I loved him, and I know he loved me, but it was all too much.” Another shaky breath comes with one more revelation.
“We got a deal, which truly, was unheard of. But before I knew it, it was all over.”
“What happened?” I ask, praying the question won’t be too much for her.
“Grant was homesick, and the hours in the studio were long. The executives wanted a lot off the bat, rightfully so. Their offer was so generous for an untested duo. All those weeks leading up to it, I knew he was struggling with the pressure. I kind of knew it would be hard for him as we gained traction, but I was so caught up in what I wanted that I just kind of believed that he would get over it. I thought that the money and the fame would be good enough. That having me as his partner in all of it would be good enough.”
“But?”
“But, he got scared. We had one argument. I told him I wanted to stay and fight for it. He didn’t agree. That night he caught a late flight home and that was that.”
My jaw clenches as I imagine him abandoning Raleigh, a woman he had made a promise to. I’m scared to ask her what happened after, but I need to know. “What happened after he left?”
Tears line her eyes, but she pushes forward for me.
She finally finds it within herself to look up and stay looking up.
“The label dropped me the next day, and I was left with nowhere to go.” She huffs out a strangled laugh.
“I couldn’t go home. All I ever talked about was leaving and making something of myself; to go home would be to accept defeat.
” She stretches her fingers like she did at the piano, contemplating.
“I knew if I went back, I’d end up right back in Grant’s arms and I’d live that picket fence life. That’s not what I wanted.”
I nod in understanding. It would be hard for anyone to go back after coming so close to delivering on a dream.
“He never should have left home, but he did for me.” I absentmindedly rub my thumb over her knuckles as she continues still.
“I don’t love him in that way anymore, but every time he tries to make things right, I’m just reminded of what I missed out on. What I could have accomplished.”
I think of everything Raleigh has done. Nearly everything Mae has accomplished as an artist can all be traced back to this straightlaced, suit wearing, woman in front of me.
She may have missed out on an opportunity to share one talent with the world, but we all were graced by her other calling.
A path that I hope she finds to be her true destiny.
“All this because a boy got scared?” I ask, everything running through my head a mile a minute.
“All this because I refused to give up,” she corrects.
“You’re right,” I say soothingly. My free hand finds her cheek and I gently caress it, not knowing what else to do.
She smiles lightly, but returns with a challenge. “Are you scared?” she whispers. She's changed the subject to us.
“No, I’m not scared of any of it,” I answer simply.
Before I know it, she’s sidled over to me and is half in my lap.
Her hands find the sides of my face, and she’s centimeters away.
Before we can act, she’s already realized what she’s done.
Her eyes widen and she tries to pull away, but I love the feeling of her against me so I hold onto her tightly.
“I do appreciate our friendship,” Raleigh states, pulling against my grip ever so slightly. “What it’s grown into… But I’m starting to think more and more about what would happen if we pushed a few boundaries.”
I push a lock of hair away from her face, it’s all I can do to stop myself from kissing her outright. “What do you think would happen if we stepped across that line? Would good things or bad things happen?”
“A little bit of both.” She’s back to inching closer to me, her thumb tracing the scruff of my unshaved face.
I clear my throat. “Careful, you may trick me into doing something I shouldn’t.” I desperately want to know what her hands would feel like on my back at the end of a long day, how she would feel wrapped around me in the morning before breakfast. I fight every instinct I have and pull away.
Her hands slip away, but she doesn’t let up on her teasing nature.“If you kissed me once, I bet I could get it out of my system.”
I raise an eyebrow at her cockiness. Never one to be beat, I lift her onto the table and stand over her. She looks surprised, but her iron will remains. I don’t know if I could ever get her out of my system, but it’s worth a shot if it means we can keep working normally together.
We waste no more time. Crashing together like the surf on a hot summer day, I know immediately I’ll never be the same.
It’s passionate and steamy, the kind of kiss that can only come from a shared pent up tension.
With my hands set on her hips I pull her against me until we’re touching.
Her hands are caught up in my hair as she deepens the kiss, fighting to get closer to me.
As my hands tighten around her slim waist, I can’t focus on anything but the feeling of her against me. It feels right in every way.
We’re breathing hard when we finally pull apart.
I feel Raleigh’s fingers curl into the hair at the nape of my neck, begging for more before surrendering and pushing backwards.
She smooths her hair before standing. “Well, I’m glad we settled that.
” She’s clearly as shaken as me because her throat catches and her lip gets caught between her teeth.
“I’ll see you at work,” she says breathlessly.
Raleigh collects her purse and shoes and is out the door before I can find my words.
And here I am, staring at the space she just vacated with a dumb-in-love smirk on my face already anticipating our next meeting.
We were a fuse lying in wait before this morning, but that kiss most definitely set it ablaze. For me, it’s not a question of if we’ll ignite and explode into a million colors but when.