Even Lovers Drown

Sun streaked through the van windows, washing over the passengers. Music blared from the speakers curtsey of the two merch girls controlling the wheel and stereo. The noise deafened any conversations occurring between the two, as it tended to do when one of them drove. Instead of their chatty voices, Blake's voice tickled Saylor's ears. Content, she lounged in the backmost seat, cell phone rested on her stomach. The passing scenery didn't hold her attention. She saw no reason in forcing herself to sit up and watch when her nerves were calm. Memories hadn't plagued her in the night, hadn't ripped her from sleep in the most painful way possible. The "good morning" text Blake sent her was pleasant, not nerve-wracking, and their continuing conversation kept boredom from striking.

Vibrations shook her stomach, her phone jingling happily alongside the movements. Saylor plucked the device from her stomach and opened the message awaiting her.

'Because needles freak me out,' Blake's text read.

Another tidbit of information for her store away. Blake's tattoo-less state had surprised her. She was a rock star. Tattoos were supposed to be spilling from her body, but she had none. And her reasoning was equally surprising.

'I never pegged you as a needle-phobe,' Saylor typed and sent.

"Stop sexting Blake," Davy said, disrupting her calm.

Phone clasped in hand, thumbs poised over the tiny keypad, she turned her head. Through the space between his seat-turned-bed and the van wall, she could see his profile clearly. His phone held his gaze, his green eyes darting over the text on the touch screen. A dimple indented his cheek under the pressure of his broad smile.

She knew who held his attention, who was on the other end of the texts, from the magnitude of his happy expression. Andy. Precious Andy. The object of his affection. She doubted Davy had looked at her once while in the midst of conversing with him, had only overheard her message tone and made a random comment, and he wouldn't have noticed if she ignored his comment, too wrapped up in Andy to care.

But where was the fun in that?

"Stop sexting Andy and maybe I will," she retaliated.

Fingers halting mid-text, he looked at her. Shock colored his green eyes. His smile fell. Clearly, of all the responses she could have given, he hadn't been expecting that one. For a moment, he stared, deciphering how to read her words, deciding if she was jumping through hurdles of progress to send Blake dirty texts.

She wouldn't send dirty texts while in the same vicinity as her brother.

Finally, a smile returned to his face. "Touché."

The vibrant jingle of her phone cut off her planned response, followed by Davy's obnoxious, beeping message tone. Saylor abandoned their conversation, as did her brother, turning her attention to the vibrating cell phone in her hands. Pressing a button, she opened Blake's response.

'I am not a needle-phobe. Needles are just... icky.'

Saylor chuckled at Blake's choice of descriptive word. So childish. So adorable. So Blake. She could imagine the gorgeous lead singer's face scrunching in child-like disgust as she muttered the word, could imagine the way her nose would crinkle and her lips would twist.

She would love kissing that look off her face.

'You're too cute,' Saylor responded.

"You're rooming with her and Sage, by the way," Davy said.

Saylor snapped her head to face Davy, attention torn from her phone by the statement. But the information didn't settle immediately, instead rolling around in her mind. She would be sleeping in the same room as Blake and Sage. In comparison to Sarah and Jenny, they were better hotel roommates. Two beds, or she assumed there would be at least two beds, would be enough. Sage could get her own. Blake and Saylor would share.

Her mind sputtered to a halt. They would be in the same bed, such a small confine, such a small distance from each other. Peppermint, Blake's continual scent of choice, would blanket Saylor, would send her senses into overdrive. Their legs would brush. Their bodies would touch. And Saylor wouldn't be able to keep herself from slipping a hand down the waistband of Blake's panties to tease her into a begging mess of sexual frustration.

"What?" Saylor asked, unable to formulate a better question while attempting to shut out images of the fun she and Blake could have.

"If you're not comfortable, you can stay in my room," Davy said, "I just didn't know how you would handle Sarah, Jenny, and their drummer friend."

Saylor cringed, the desire she once felt crushed. Someone was allowing Sarah and Jenny to sleep in the same vicinity as the drummer they adored. The things the threesome might do were frightening. Davy spared her from a possibly scarring traumatic experience.

"My eyes thank you."

"Couldn't expose my baby sister to sodomy," Davy said, "So, you're okay staying in Blake's room?"

"It's not that I'm not comfortable."

"But," he prompted.

Tactful approaches to revealing her fear popped in and out of her head, bubbles of vague statements Davy wouldn't understand. The alternative, blurting she might fuck Blake senseless if they were put in the same room, wasn't appealing either.

"I'm going to be in the same bed as her," Saylor attempted.

He shrugged. "Probably. Sage likes having her own bed."

Apparently, the problem wasn't evident. In fact, he seemed to perceive her statement as a question rather than proclamation of carefully worded concern. Any other cautiously selected wording would be taken the same way. She had two options: dismiss the issue as unimportant or blurt the truth.

"I am going to fuck the hell out of her," Saylor said.

No point in claiming a problem was unimportant after bringing it up.

A shock-induced coughing fit attacked Davy's lungs. "I'm sorry?" he sputtered between coughs.

"Do you really want me to repeat myself?"

He held his hand up, instruction for her to stop. "No." Taking a breath and pinching the bridge of his nose, he composed himself before looking at her again. "You have a sex drive?"

The sudden appearance of her libido was an understandable shock. After watching her deny Blake’s advances and watching her battle the mess Katie left her in, he had every right to be thrown off by her proclamation.

"Unfortunately."

She had been stifled for so long, denied every opportunity to feel desire by Katie and herself, her body was taking the opportunity to explode now, to deviate away from the harsh self-control she once had. The reawakening of her sexual need was a leap of progress from the sobbing mess she had been when she left Katie, but she was no longer sure of ability to keep her hands to herself.

She didn't want to control herself anymore. She wanted Blake.

"Where was that at the beginning of tour?"

"I don't know." Saylor shrugged. "Nonexistent?"

"Blake could have made you her little sex bunny by now."

He was right. Had she felt such an extreme want for Blake when they met, she would have taken her up on her original offer. No second thoughts. No questions. Just their bodies touching and the addictive sensations that would come from it. She would have been Blake's to take whenever she desired.

That sounded lovely.

"I wouldn't mind being her 'sex bunny.'"

He laughed, over his initial shock and capable of finding humor in Saylor's sudden sexual interest in Blake. "Does she know you're ready to maul her?"

"Of course not."

She couldn't voice her desire. Not to Blake. She didn't know how. Admitting to Blake the things she wanted to do terrified her, probably the cause of Katie's vicious love, even though she knew Blake wouldn't hurt her for wanting to touch and be touched.

"You should tell her. I'm positive she wouldn't mind."

“What if,” Saylor paused, “What if I freak or something? What if I think about Katie and start panicking.”

Always a worry. She wanted Blake, she knew she did, but she couldn’t promise Katie’s threats, Katie’s beatings, wouldn’t flit through her mind and ruin everything.

“You could tell her about Katie?” Davy said.

There was no way she could talk about such a terrible past relationship. Blake would look at her differently, would treat her differently. She could damage the budding relationship they had.

“I can’t do that.”

“I think you can. She had a huge impact on you. It’s like what happened to Blake in high school.” He shrugged. “Something that powerful is worth talk about.”

His statement spiked her interest. "What happened in high school?"

Davy opened his mouth and closed it. Opened it. Closed it again. His lips pursed, his eyes seemed to darken as he thought. Sighing, he shook his head.

"You'd have to talk to her."