Even Lovers Drown

Blake strolled through the parking lot, dodging workers reloading equipment. A fresh layer of drying sweat decorated her skin and drenched sections of her tank top. Her skinny jeans clung to her legs, hot, uncomfortable. Aching feet demanded she sit down and take off the socks and shoes that plagued them. "Relax," her body seemed to insist, "Grab a beer, settle on the bus with friends and a pizza, and watch them play games."

But she wasn't bothered by the temporary discomfort, the remnants of a successful show. Quick chugs of water during and after the show kept her hydrated, the cookie filled her for the time being, and the scent of peppermint surrounded her. The post-concert ritual took care of key points, and the high of performing kept her energized.

Or maybe the excitement of having Saylor on the bus for the night energized her nerves, kept her awake and casually walking through the parking lot.

Nothing would happen. Nothing that normally happened with groupies at least. She didn't invite Saylor for that reason. Her excitement didn't stem from the unlikely possibility Saylor would lose track of her morals for the night, slip into her bunk and give in to her desires. The invitation was offered out of worry more than anything. Saylor was exhausted and wasn't taking the time to relax. Blake wanted to make sure she got that time. To lounge around, to eat, to sleep, to be comfortable.

Her excitement, however, grew the moment she realized Saylor would be on Say Goodbye's bus and what could come from her stay. No sex. Not even the possibility of that. But time to get to know Saylor and let Saylor get to know her, time to see how Saylor fit in with her friends, time to get closer to her, time to just be near her. That was more thrilling than the prospect of no strings attached fun.

Blake caught sight of Saylor leaning casually against the van. The tiny duffle bag resting on her shoulder, big enough to hold essentials for the night, provided proof that she hadn't backed out yet. Davy stood across from her, nodding occasionally to the words her plump lips produced. Smiles brightened both of their faces. Easy, calm, comfortable. Blake wasn't entering a danger zone.

Laughter drew their conversation to a close as Blake stopped next to them. Saylor's chiming laugh circled her, intoxicating. Her heart fluttered, her stomach tightened. And when Saylor turned to look at her, green eyes filled with mirth and smile the epitome of breathtaking, Blake struggled to resist the urge to grab her by the waist and kiss the hell out of her.

Geez, she felt like she was in high school again.

"Hey," Blake said, shoving her hands in her pockets to keep them from acting on her urges. "You ready to go?"

"Yeah," Saylor replied. She pushed herself off the van and looked at Davy. "Get in a car wreck and I'm telling mom on you."

"Not if I tell mom on you first," Davy returned.

Sticking her tongue out, Saylor ended the childish interaction. Blake's smile grew. Short as it was, the moment she witnessed proved further that Saylor was becoming more comfortable around her. And that comfort would keep growing, promising a future for their relationship. Even if that future was simply friendship.

Davy shook his head, chuckling to himself. "I'll see you in the morning." Waving farewell and walking around the van, he shot a "Night, guys" over his shoulder.

Saylor watched after him, a small surge of anxiety brewing in her veins. Davy, her security blanket, her protector, was leaving her to sleep on a bus with strangers. Calling him was always an option, something to keep her grounded when things spiraled. With the nightmares a constant threat, her emotional stability was guaranteed to be shaky throughout the night.

"We should head to the bus before Andy decides to leave us," Blake said.

Thoughts disrupted, Saylor snapped her head to face Blake. Deep blue eyes stared back at her. The threatening anxiety calmed to an almost nonexistent simmer in the pit of her stomach. Blake, the main reason for her ominous unease, would be there and Saylor found strange comfort in that.

"Yeah," Saylor mumbled, "We should go."

Together, they walked towards the tour bus. Silence settled on them, the roaring of engines attempting to fill it. A safe distance was kept between them. Their arms didn't brush, their hands didn't hit each other in subconscious efforts to grasp, no contact was shared between them. Saylor was sure the distance was caused at her own discretion.

But she yearned to be closer, yearned to have some connection with Blake as they walked. Yet, she couldn't bring herself to initiate it. She could find no plausible reason to sporadically shift closer to Blake and touch her. Nothing other than her sheer want to do so.

The breaking of their touch barrier had been easy during unloading. Too tired to think her actions through before committing to them, she had touched Blake in an attempt to reassure her that she would be fine. A clear, concise reason. The night of merch work seemed to have energized her, the fans she dealt with far more engaging than those from past venues. She couldn't carelessly touch Blake without reason.

And why did she want to touch Blake so badly? When had she become attracted enough to her to be willing to break the barriers she cautiously put up?

The note. It had all started there, hadn't it? That note that belonged in a high school girl's locker instead of sitting on a merch box and waiting for a twenty-four-year-old woman. Saylor's heart had melted then, the steal barriers around it dissolving into a dripping mess and leaving her prone to Blake's attempts.

She wasn't resentful toward her body and its reaction to the note. Confused, uncertain, but not resentful.

They reached the bus door, unscathed by the vehicles beginning to leave the parking lot. The bus would be last to leave, Say Goodbye not needed till sound check. Assuming they made it to the venue in good time, Saylor wouldn't be late for unloading.

"I apologize in advance for any mess and unnecessary comments made by band members who can easily be replaced," Blake said, quickly typing the security code into the keypad on the door.

The door slid open before Saylor could respond to, let alone register, the joking comment, the stifled exhaustion beginning to edge on her conscious mind. The amount of energy used in suppressing her want to touch Blake was to blame. She was convinced.

Blake led the way up the stairs, and Saylor followed obediently. The bus door swished to a close, locking in place with a light click. She was stuck now, on the bus, in Blake's company, nightmares a potential threat to the entire experience.

But she could handle this. She would attempt to get enough sleep to function the next day. Her urge to initiate contact would not be acted on, despite how much she wanted to touch Blake. And she would have fun. The band members could even become new friends, ones to replace those she lost during her time dating Katie. Davy could live with his baby sister sharing his friends.

Blake stopped them in the main area of the bus. It was small, smaller than Saylor imagined, but it was comfortable. A dining booth on the left, where Andy was stationed, a kitchenette to the right, and a living room-like space, where the rest of Say Goodbye was getting settled. A homey feel blanketed the area, as it should have. This was the band's "home away from home." It was meant to be as comforting as their homes.

Saylor knew it made her feel a little less anxious about how the night would turn out.

"I brought company," Blake announced.

"Oh, great, another—" Sage turned around, sentence coming to an immediate halt. She stared at Saylor, eyebrows drawn in confusion. Her eyes darted to Blake. "Did you kidnap her?"

Already, the comments were starting, though the first comment thrown wasn't the worst. Blake had to admit she was surprised. She was expecting something terribly embarrassing. Being accused of kidnapping wasn't that bad.

Then again, that could have been a serious question.

"No, she came willingly," Blake replied.

Sage looked at Saylor, no humor radiating from her green eyes. "Did she kidnap you? Don't worry, you can tell us."

The seriousness coating her tone was all part of the embarrassment tactics. But Sage's material was lacking, almost disappointingly so. She had better jokes in her arsenal, so why was she so set on accusing Blake of kidnapping?

"Wouldn't be the first time Blake kidnapped a cute girl," Hayden remarked, diligently sifting through videogames.

Because Sage's comment paved the way for more teasing comments. Potentially better ones, in fact. The tactic was pretty common. Blake should have seen it coming. Not that being aware of their tactics would help anything. She couldn't do much to stop them.

"Blake can't help it," Reese said, "She's like Grayson. If offering her toy fire truck doesn't get the cute girl, she'll claim her without consent."

"Let's hope Saylor doesn't end up in a cane field like the last girl," Hunter said.

Hayden turned his attention away from the videogames in his hand to his twin brother. "I thought she ended up in Blake's sandwich."

"Gross," Sage mumbled.

"In so many ways," Reese added.

"Blake, stop eating women so we can stop having these conversations."

"Easily replaced," Blake mumbled.

She looked at Saylor, whose amusement-filled green eyes met her gaze. No tension radiated off of her. Her shoulders were relaxed, and the smile on her full lips was real. Their comments weren't having the intended effect on her, possibly having the opposite effect all together, and Blake couldn't have been happier.