Even Lovers Drown

"Sarah and Jenny didn't know what to do," Blake continued, "Two sugars, one creamer, right?"

"Um," Saylor hesitated, "Yeah, thanks."

Cautious, she took the drink, grabbing the cup from the bottom in an obvious attempt to avoid physical contact with Blake, and placed it on the table. That was fine. She was taking the drink and would end up sipping the drink, leaving Blake with the opportunity to ask her how it tasted, to ask if she had made it right. Blake could find a way to branch the conversation out. The opening to start talking was what she needed and that's exactly what she was getting with Saylor's acceptance of the coffee.

"You shouldn't drink that," Sage said, the humor that laced her mock-serious voice a clear threat to Blake's plans. "I think I saw her slip roofies in it."

One comment, all it took was one comment to derail a whole conversation. Not that the conversation with Saylor was getting anywhere yet, but Blake had plans for it. She had been well on her way to getting Saylor to open up. And Sage had to ruin it by suggesting she put a date rape drug in the coffee. Blake should have expected some comment. Her friends weren't the type to avoid embarrassing her.

But there was no doubt in her mind that Saylor would think Sage was telling the truth, that she would believe Blake was willing to use date rape drugs to have sex with her. Blake didn't need drugs to get a woman, her looks, money, or fame enough to get what she wanted. Drugs wouldn't be an option now, nor would they ever be. No one deserved to be drugged and raped. Not even difficult redheads who told Blake to get lost and happened to be related to one of her friends.

Unless Saylor was into that kind of thing. Blake could cave on her "no rape" policy for a little role-playing. If Saylor wanted it rougher, Blake would damn well give it to her. She would just need a minute to get into character.

"Blake keeps those in her bra at all times," Hayden piped.

"Is that where you've been hiding them?" Reese asked. "I was wondering why I couldn't find them when I searched your bag."

Blake glared at them, willing them to leave the topic alone. If not for her sake or the sake of her goals, then for the sake of the redhead sitting next to her. Discomfort radiated off of Saylor. She didn't fidget in her seat, but remained still, her body tense. She hadn't truly relaxed since she sat down next to Blake, and the conversation wasn't helping. From the corner of her eyes, Blake could see Saylor staring at her cup of coffee, expression neutral. The cup remained untouched, the coffee inside cooling.

"Found the vodka, found the heroin, couldn't find the roofies," Sage said, "Better watch out, Saylor, Blake's a wild one."

Saylor didn't need to be told twice. The band members were joking about Blake's use of drugs and alcohol. Their voices gave that away, the laughter hiding in their tones easy enough for Saylor to catch. Friends messed around, she understood that. Before Katie, she had been the same way with her friends.

Blake just reminded her too much of Katie. Saylor couldn't shake the comparison, and she wasn't going to try. It seemed like a waste of time to try getting rid of her irrational feelings. She didn't want to get closer to Blake and find that she and Katie shared more than overt confidence that dabbled in the territories of cocky and the assumption that they could get anything that moved into their beds. Saylor couldn't handle another Katie. Mentally, she had been shaken enough. Any more would break her. She would be very careful of Blake.

"Shut up," Blake demanded.

"That's what you get for putting my bra in the freezer," Sage retaliated.

Davy laughed, making no moves to wave off Sage's ridiculous warning to Saylor. "Leave the poor woman alone. Everyone needs help from time to time. I slipped one in Andy's drink."

Saylor knew what he was doing. He wouldn't take the time to defend Blake against the accusation in front of everyone. There was no point. The only person he thought would need that reassurance was Saylor, and he would wait until they were alone to tell her Blake wasn't like that. Instead, he diverted the attention away from Blake, ending the roofies comments about her. So Saylor's impression of Blake wouldn't be further tarnished.

"You did what?" Andy asked.

"Drink up, Andy." Davy smirked at him and took a sip from his cup. The corners of his lips turned down immediately. He peeked under the plastic top, then glared at the two merch girls. "This is grape soda."

"Isn't that what you asked for?" one, Saylor was pretty sure it was Sarah, asked.

"I asked for orange soda."

"Grape, orange. Same thing."

Davy gasped, his eyes wide. "Heathen."

Laughter. The merch girls, the band, Davy, Andy, all bubbled with it. Even Saylor giggled, so quiet that Blake was sure she was the only one who could hear. The topic change was good, light, perfect for taking the conversation away from her. Blake couldn't thank Davy enough.

Despite the easy humor spread through the table, Saylor was still tense. She was smiling, she was giggling, but she wasn't loosening up. The space between them in the booth seemed to have increased, as if Saylor had scooted over until her body was balancing on the edge of the seat. Her smile didn't quite meet her eyes. The emerald depths didn't shine with the same humor she was portraying through her giggles but were filled with something almost skittish. If someone dropped a napkin, she would bolt faster than a deer.

Was Saylor afraid? What could she have possibly been afraid of? No one at the table would dare hurt her and risk facing the leashed wrath of Davy. But she still sat there like she was waiting for someone to hurt her.

Was she afraid of Blake? There was no way. Blake hadn't done anything to her. Nothing she should be afraid of, at least. Saylor wasn't afraid of her, couldn't be. Blake was just jumping to conclusions, trying to fabricate a reason for Saylor's fear without asking her. She couldn't help being curious.

"Hey," Blake whispered to Saylor. Her green eyes darted to Blake and back to her food. Acknowledgment that she had heard her. That was enough for Blake to continue talking to her. "They were joking."

"I don't care," Saylor mumbled, so quiet Blake almost didn't hear her.

Clearing the air was important to Blake. She wanted Saylor to know she had nothing to worry about. All she wanted to do was sleep with her. At the very least once. A little something to make Saylor want more. And she couldn't do that if Saylor wasn't comfortable around her.

"I wouldn't do that," Blake pushed.

"What you do is none of my business," Saylor said.

The statement seemed to end their conversation, creating a silence between them filled only by the chatter of their table mates. Blake watched her pluck a circular hash brown from the packet and slip it between her full lips. Her chews were casual, unaffected, the corners of her lips tugging up.

Saylor was acting like she didn't care, and maybe she really didn't. Maybe she already knew the roofies thing was a joke and didn't feel like telling Blake. But for her to act like she wasn't interested in Blake, that was lie. Everyone was interested.

"Don't act like you don't want me," Blake said.

"No offence, but I don't."

She snorted. "Oh, please. You want me to slam you against this table and take you like every fan I know. Admit it."

Saylor snapped her head to face Blake, eyes wide, lips parted. Fear danced her eyes, so apparent that Blake wanted to retract her statement. She wanted to say anything that would force the fear from Saylor's expression. Her eyes narrowed quickly with anger though, and Blake didn’t get the chance to make up for her rude comment.

"Excuse me?"

Saylor's voice was loud enough to drag the attention of the table to them. The band was watching now, teasing smiles prepared to spread on their faces. Fucking Saylor had to raise her voice. And to think Blake felt a bit of sympathy for her seconds ago.

"Didn't catch that?" Blake snapped, "You. Want. Me. Between. Your. Thighs."

A fierce glare tightened Saylor's eyes. She shook her head and looked at her brother, communicating her anger to him in a silent look. Not bothering to combat Blake's statement, Saylor stood and stormed from the building. Nothing was said for a moment, all staring after the fiery red head.

"Smooth, Blake," Davy said, breaking the silence.

Blake crossed her arms and gave a curt shrug. "She'll come around."

"I don't think so."

"Oh, what do you know?" she grumbled.

"Well, she is my sister."

"Doesn't mean anything."

"I know I haven't seen her in almost four years, but I know more about her than you do."

Blake perked with curiosity, eyebrows drawing together. The band members turned their attention to him, too, their interest raised with his statement. Four years? That couldn't have been right.

"How haven't you seen her in four years? Our longest tour lasted a year," Blake said.

"She's," he hesitated, "been busy with school and stuff."

A lie, not a terrible one. He couldn't tell them. Saylor's personal life, her reason for being forced to abandon her family for years, was her business. It was hers to tell if she ever wanted to.