Even Lovers Drown

Thirteen minutes.

That’s how long Blake had been lounging on the couch, squished between Sage and Reese, listening to the nursery rhyme embodiment—Mary, she reminded herself—ramble on about everything and anything that made a sporadic appearance in her head. She couldn’t follow. The pang of hunger was beginning to cloud her ability to function and the silent rumbles of her stomach were becoming more frequent. She could barely manage the charismatic smile pasted on her face.

The debilitating hunger was no one’s fault but her own. She should have eaten earlier, before whisking Saylor away to her bunk, but she was so excited over alone time and the prospect of asking her to meet her mother she forgot. Now, every minute she waited was an eternity.

But she wouldn’t have been able to keep up anyway. Mary, in her childish excitement, was talking so fast. She could talk circles around Hayden while he was under the influence of more energy drinks than any human should consume in one day. She wondered how Katie, whose arm was draped possessively around Mary’s waist, managed to handle the fireball.

She peeked at the intimidating woman. Katie hadn’t said more than a few single-syllable words since introducing herself. Her impassive, almost bored, stare drifted around the room and, occasionally, to the watch dangling on her wrist. Except for the few times Mary addressed her in her ramblings, in which case she gave her a warm smile and spoke in short, articulate sentences, she didn’t seem to want to be there.

Katie was not a fan, of that much Blake was certain, and she was there for the sole purpose of keeping Mary, her girlfriend, company.

Something about her unsettled Blake. She wasn’t sure what but she didn’t like whatever it was and, therefore, didn’t like her.

Perhaps her name was the reason. Katie. Saylor begged a Katie to stop in her sleep weeks ago, was in hysterics because of whatever that woman had been doing to her. Blake shouldn’t have been bothered by a name, a common name at that, but she couldn’t help herself. Katie was the reason Saylor had been terrified of her. Katie was the reason Saylor almost didn’t give her a chance. Katie was the reason she still couldn’t ask Saylor to be her girlfriend.

Her frustration was enough to give her reason to dislike a fan’s girlfriend because of her name.

She glanced at her phone, tapping and illuminating the screen. Fourteen minutes. Saylor would be there soon, carrying her food, a vision from heaven in her tighter-than-normal tank top and loose jeans.

She had been planning on investing in tighter jeans for her, ones that gripped the lovely curve of her bottom even when she was standing, but she quite liked the loose jeans. She didn’t have to fiddle with buttons and zippers to slide her hand into them or to get them off. A firm tug and they dropped down Saylor’s thighs.

And Saylor had told Blake she had tighter, not-useful-for-manual-labor clothing at home. While they were supposed to be unloading boxes from the merch U-Haul. Her in depth descriptions of some of the more playful portions of her collection encouraged Blake to turn work into play.

The dressing room door swung open, grappling Blake’s attention. Her smile broadened, her stomach gave a victorious rumble. The smell of food hit her before she registered Saylor and Davy walking in, both laughing, trays of food and drinks in their hands. And she didn’t take the time to question why they had more food than she ordered, one simple thought in her mind.

Food was here.

Saylor’s eyes drifted from her brother as she spoke, “Hey, I got—”

And she stopped short, her eyes meeting intense blues she thought, hoped, she’d never see again. Her smile fell, all merriment chilling in her veins. Her eyes widened, her heart dropped, her lungs clenched.

Oh, god.

“Katie,” Davy said, his tone cold.

A smirk twisted her cruel lips, harsh amusement replaced the surprise in those blue eyes. “Hello, Davy,” she said, “Saylor.”

Her name rolled off her lips, just as tantalizing in her smooth alto as it had been when she met her in their English course. She hadn’t changed. Shiny, black hair contrasted against porcelain skin. A tee-shirt and a pair of jeans accented her trim figure, attire that appeared regal on her. Beautiful eyes, beautiful lips, a perfect nose.

Katie.

“What are you doing here?” Davy asked.

“My girlfriend won backstage passes. Oh.” Her tone hitched as if she just remembered something, mocking. She moved to the side, presenting the woman tucked against her. “This is Mary, my girlfriend. She’s a nurse at the hospital where I’m doing my residency.” She smiled at her girlfriend, gentle, loving. “Mary, this is Saylor, my ex.”

Her girlfriend—Mary—smiled in excitement, her sapphire blue eyes lighting in delight. “It’s nice to finally meet you. Katie’s told me so much about you.”

Saylor’s voice was lost in her vocal chords, her thoughts a jumbled mess. She stared at Mary, her heart shattering under repressed insults. This woman was what she never could be, this woman was what Katie wanted her to be. Tiny, cute, naively excited about the world. An attractive object to hang on her arm. She could never be that, was too tall, too large, too clumsy, too much of everything Katie didn’t want.

“Um, yeah,” Saylor mumbled, her voice barely above a whisper.

Just where Katie liked it.

“And what are you doing here?” she asked.

But the malicious humor lacing her tormenting voice suggested she knew why Saylor was backstage, could guess her reason for the pass dangling from her jeans. She simply wanted the joy of hearing her admit her unimpressive job.

“I’m helping Davy sell band merchandise.”

Katie’s satisfied smile cut her. “Of course.”

Tension held thick in the dressing room, keeping the members of Say Goodbye in awkward silence. Watching, waiting. Even Blake sat helpless on the couch watching her lover take on an emotional beating. Mary, stuck in a high over seeing them, seemed to be the only one who didn’t notice the jagged edge to Katie’s words, tone, mannerisms.

This was Katie. The Katie. The woman who made Saylor cry and plead in her sleep. The woman who was making Blake’s life difficult by association.

Her initial urge was to shove the woman from the room, beat her to a pulp, and rescue her lover’s emotional well-being. But she couldn’t. A fan dropping passive aggressive comments about her lover wasn’t enough to kick her out of the room and attack her, and the highly-publicized lawsuit that she knew would follow, the tabloids accusing her of infringing on the rights of a fan and going ballistic, and the ruined reputation of her band would only make Saylor feel worse.

She looked to Davy, who seemed just as conflicted as she was. There had to be something they could do, anything to help Saylor, but Davy didn’t move, his glare burning into Katie, his hands clenching the tray to keep him from throwing a fist.

She had to do something.

“Hey,” Blake spoke up, and Saylor’s dimmed emerald eyes shot to her. She smiled, hoping to offer some grounding. “Is all that food for me?”

Saylor’s brows drew in confusion. She looked to the tray stacked with food and drinks in her hands, stared as if trying to remember where she was, what she was doing, before the disturbance. Her eyes met Blake’s again, and a small, timid smile lifted her lips.

At least she didn’t appear ready to burst into tears anymore.

“I, uh, got food for everyone,” Saylor said.

Her voice was so low. Blake could barely hear the beautiful sultry tone in the deathly quiet room. Because of that woman.

Damn, Katie.

The mention of sustenance roused her band members. The subject pricked a hole in the thick tension that drowned the room, giving way to excitement. Food, it had that kind of power amongst them.

“You got food for all of us?” Hayden asked, marvel dousing his voice.

“Davy helped,” Saylor mumbled.

“Wow,” Reese murmured.

“Blake, marry her,” Hayden demanded.

“I think what he means is,” Andy said, “that’s very kind of you, Saylor.”

“All public displays of affection are permitted from this point further,” Hunter said.

“I… don’t know what he means.”

Laughter. From Hayden. From Hunter. From Reese. From Andy. From Mary. A fake giggle from Sage. Davy’s jaw held too tight to laugh, but he managed a thin smile. Blake forced her own laugh, the practiced laugh she used in uncomfortable interviews, for Saylor’s sake.

Her smile grew under the band member’s words, stronger, better, almost normal. “It’s no problem.” And her voice grew in volume.

Food was a good subject.

Saylor handed out the unhealthy nourishment littering her tray, moving around the tiny dressing room in tentative strides. She didn’t glance at Katie again but did peek at Blake while placing food and a drink in front of the respective band member. And Blake smiled at her every time her eyes drifted to her.

She’d be her anchor.

Davy followed after his sister, sparing one more glare in Katie’s direction. His steps were quicker, confident, an attempt to show he was in control. When his tray was empty, he moved to stand next to Andy, away from Katie, and began mumbling frantically in his ear. No doubt telling him the story Blake still hadn’t heard.

Her food was last, a chilidog and a bottle of water she didn’t order. She smiled her thanks to Saylor, expected her to dip close enough to steal a kiss.

But she didn’t.

She didn’t get close enough to touch, let alone catch in a peck. Tucking the empty tray under her arms, she began following her brother.

Blake wouldn’t have that

“You know what?” she asked, lifting her chilidog container and peering under it. She saw Saylor freeze from the corner of her eyes. “I think…” She looked under the water bottle. “I ordered this with a kiss from a sexy redhead.” She smirked at Saylor. “I see my sexy redhead. Where’s my kiss?”

Her tense shoulders relaxed, the breath she must have been holding visibly stealing the stress from her body. Happiness beat fright from her emerald eyes. A smile, broad, normal, stretched across her lips.

Blake won.

Saylor walked back across the dressing room and around the table, careful not to step on Reese’s feet in the process. Propping the tray against the table, she bent in front of Blake. Soft lips pressed firm against hers, sent a shot of heat to her core. Her band mates made no comments to ruin their moment, but a squeal reminded Blake she was making a point, showing Saylor’s ex she no longer mattered.

Blake’s arms slid around her waist, a stealthy movement Saylor didn’t seem to notice. And when their lips broke apart, she tugged. With a surprised yelp, Saylor tumbled into her lap, arms wrapping around her neck, legs curling to fit comfortably on the couch and not upset Sage or Reese. Wide green eyes stared up at her, amusement twinkling in their depths.

Blake smirked. “Oops.”

Laughing, Saylor rested her head against her shoulder, cuddling against her, and sighed.

“Are you two dating?” Mary’s voice pulled Blake away from Saylor’s eyes and to the couple still standing in front of them.

Delight glittered in Mary’s large smile and her blue eyes. Nothing could crack her wall of excitement. Not even Katie’s hand gripping the edge of her shirt, so tight white dusted her knuckles, or the vicious glare tightening her cold blue eyes.

Holding Katie’s gaze, Blake said, “Saylor’s my girlfriend.”

Not officially, but Katie’s snarl was well worth the fib.

“That’s so cute,” Mary sighed.

“Yeah, cute,” Katie spat. She looked Saylor up and down, appraising. Finding what she was searching for, she smirked. “Saylor, you’ve gained weight.”

Her lover’s body went rigid in her arms. The head rested on her shoulder lifted, eyes dropped to her lap. Her arms unwrapped from Blake’s neck to fidget with her tight tank top. The work Blake put into bringing comfort to Saylor, ruined by one passive aggressive comment.

“Well,” Davy spoke up, “she was a toothpick when she came home. We had to put some weight on her.”

“Not that much,” Katie retaliated. Before anyone else could speak, she smiled down at girlfriend. “Baby, we should go grab some food before the concert.”

“Okay,” Mary chirped.

Waving enthusiastically to the band, she slipped out of Katie’s hold and, much to Blake’s surprise, walked from the dressing room. She expected her to skip from place-to-place, an act far more fitting for the nursery rhyme embodiment than walking.

Katie followed her, satisfied smirk on her face, but stopped in the doorway. She looked at Saylor, malicious glint in her eyes.

“A musician, really?” She scoffed. “But I guess that’s the best you can do since you’re not smart enough to get through nursing school.”

And she left, door slamming shut behind her, stunned silence left in her wake. Anger seared Blake’s veins, urged her to get up, storm out of the room, and ruin Katie’s pale face. But she didn’t act on her urge. She had more important concerns, like her broken lover, whose crumpled body language and pained expression tore her own heart.

“That bitch,” Sage said.

“I can’t fucking stand her,” Davy seethed, leaving his perch beside Andy to pace the dressing room. “How dare she speak to you like that? The restraining order—“

“You know, working on getting a restraining order is something you’re supposed to tell me about,” Andy said.

“You’re getting a restraining order on her?” Reese asked, “The fuck did she do to you?”

Saylor didn’t respond, didn’t seem to register his question. Her eyes were trained on the shut dressing room door, entranced. Blake rubbed her arms and kissed her head, an attempt to pull her from inside herself. Saylor didn’t budge.

“I didn’t think she would show up,” Davy defended.

“The only solution is to make a big show of your relationship,” Hayden piped. “Blake, Saylor, sex on the stage. Start warming up.”

Sage stared at him, deadpan green eyes enough to make any band member squirm. Except him. “Really, Hayden? You are such a—“

Hunter cut her off. “Approved.”

All eyes shot to him, the incredulous eyes of the band members, the wary eyes of their manager, the shocked eyes of their longtime merch worker, the victorious eyes of his twin brother.

Except Saylor’s.

Nonchalant under the varied gazes, he shrugged. “Saylor bought us food. And she picked this hoe over that thing. I’ll encourage exhibitionist tendencies for the show.”

Blake opened her mouth to retort, something along the lines of denying hoe status and thanking him for his “generosity,” but before a word could pass her lips, Saylor pushed out of her lap. Startled by the sudden movement, the only movement she made since Katie’s departure, Blake watched her spellbound stride to the door.

“What are you doing?” she asked.

She didn’t acknowledge her but continued to walk to the door. Enchanted by some mystical force that urged her forward. Enchanted by Katie.

What was that woman, the fucking Pied Piper?

Blake stood, panic welling in her. “Saylor?”

Saylor didn’t turn at the sound of her name or the alarm tickling her lover’s tone. She had to get to Katie. She’d never get this opportunity again, never accidentally run into Katie while walking down the street or be allowed to go to her house. This was her last chance.

Aware of the eyes on her and the questioning silence, she pushed the door open and stood in the opening, keeping the door propped. Her stare landed on Katie without hesitation. Her ex strode down the hallway, pace slow, as if she was aware Saylor would come after her. Her pixie girlfriend was nowhere in sight.

Good.

Saylor took a deep breath to calm her jumping nerves and, from the comfort of the doorway, yelled, “Katie.”

She turned, smug smile visible from the distance, and crossed her arms. Waiting for Saylor to fall into her trap, a desperate mess of sobs and shaking to make her feel empowered.

Not this time.

“Go fuck yourself,” Saylor yelled.

She was done, the insinuated insult against her lover prompting her to gain an ounce of courage and say the one thing she should have said when she left Katie.

She didn’t stay to watch the satisfied smile drop from Katie’s features, didn’t stay to watch surprise take its place, didn’t stay to see delayed anger twist her lips and make her body taut. No, she slipped back into the dressing room, away from Katie’s rage, and closed the door firmly behind her.

And was scooped into Blake’s safe embrace. Her sweet savior.