Following Me (43 page)

When she had spoken with her
parents, they were mortified that she had endured so much at the hands of the
man she had been dating.  She thought they blamed themselves for pushing her
and Mason together and then for not seeing what happened with Reid.  But how
could they blame themselves for what the men had done and what she had allowed
to occur?

Her parents had tried to make up
for it by offering to help her in any way they could.  On their recommendation,
she had started seeing a therapist in the city.  Her mom was anxious to see her
and take care of her.  Before the conversation was even over, her mom had sent
an email to Devon with a plane ticket home, so she could visit soon.  Devon actually
planned to use this ticket.  Now that she could be honest, she was looking
forward to spending time with her mom.

After everything with Reid, her
mother was worried about where Devon would go and what she would do.  Her
mother didn’t like the idea of Devon being back at Wash U with Reid, so Devon
had finally told her parents that she had decided not to go back to school. 
She thought it would be best to at least take off the semester, so she could dedicate
herself to recovery.

Her parents had offered to get
her an apartment in Chicago since she had decided to stay, but Devon had
declined.  Hadley and Garrett had made it clear that she was welcome in their
place for as long as she wanted.  She didn’t like being alone, so that worked
out for her.  Plus, it gave her the opportunity she needed to spend more time
with her friend, like she had wanted to from the beginning, and then she could begin
to rebuild that bond with Garrett.

Brennan had also told Devon that
she could stay with him, but she had turned him down as well.  As much as she
liked Brennan, she couldn’t let her life revolve entirely around a guy again. 
He had accepted her response with grace.  It didn’t really matter anyway since
she spent so much time with him.  The distance just helped ground her and give
her space when she needed it.

“I can’t believe school starts in
a couple weeks, and I won’t be going back,” Devon said, staring out the window.

“You could still go back if you
wanted,” Brennan said.

He was always encouraging her to
go back.  She knew he wanted her to finish her degree, and when the time was
right, she wanted to finish it.  But now wasn’t that time.

“I don’t think so.  I can’t go
back to that just yet.  I need to get myself right first.”

“I know.  I just don’t want you
to think that you shouldn’t go back…”  He trailed off with an awkward pause.

She caught his meaning and turned
to face him.  “Do you think I’m staying because of you?”

“I don’t want that to be your
reason.”

“I want to be with you.  I want
to be in Chicago with you, but I’m not staying for you…if that makes sense.  I
know I need to finish college and get a job and all that.  I just feel like
I’ll never really do any of that well enough if I’m not well enough mentally. 
That’s why I’m staying.  This is what I need,” she tried to explain.

“Okay.  Good,” he said, smirking
at her.  “That’s what I wanted to hear.”

Devon relaxed back into the seat,
feeling better now that she had explained herself.  Therapy had helped with
that.  She found herself explaining everything to people.  It was better than
holing up inside of herself and being terrified of what she might say.  At
least now, she had a sense of control over what went on in her life.  Brennan
seemed to like it.  He was her number one supporter.  He always encouraged her
to express her feelings and listened to her opinions.

“So, where are we going anyway?”
she asked.

“You’ll see.”  He smiled at her
secretively.

Devon narrowed her eyes.  “Is it
a secret?”

“You could say that.”

“Can I guess?”  She bit her lip
and tucked one foot underneath her.

“No,” he said.  “I’m not giving
anything away.  You’ll like it…I think.”

“I’ll take your word for it,” she
said.  She crossed her legs pretzel-style and stared out at the changing
landscape.

Brennan pulled off of I-94 and
started veering through the streets.  The area was nice, and Devon found
herself admiring the beauty and simplicity of life in the suburbs.  Her parents
lived in the suburbs, and while this was nothing like southern Nashville, it
had the same feeling.

“This area is beautiful.  Where
are we?” Devon asked as they crested a hill.

She sat up taller in her seat and
stared out at the shore of Lake Michigan.  It stretched for miles and miles
past her line of sight.  It was gorgeous and glorious in its magnitude.

“The North Shore.  Evanston,” he
told her, driving down the hill.

“Wow,” she breathed, transfixed
on the passing scenery.

Brennan slowed to a stop in front
of a large all-brick house on a plot that bordered the lake.  “This is where I
grew up,” he said softly.

Devon’s eyes left the house and
landed back on Brennan.  “This is…your dad’s house?” she asked, feeling overwhelmed
that he would bring her here.

“Yeah.  It was.  Mine now…I guess,”
he told her, pulling into the driveway.

After the car came to a stop, Devon
opened the car door and slid out of the seat.  Brennan popped the trunk and
pulled out his guitar case.  Devon smiled.  She liked seeing him with that.  He
had been playing and singing to her a lot more when she was at his place.  It
relaxed her and brought her back to the first gig she had ever seen him
perform.  She had been so caught up in him and his music that she had left the
venue.  She hadn’t trusted herself to be with him then.  Her feelings were too
strong even at that time.

They walked up to the front door,
and Brennan just stood there with the key in his hand.  He took a deep breath
and slid the key into the slot.  He turned the door and immediately disabled an
alarm system.  Devon cautiously stepped inside, feeling almost as if she were
trespassing.  But this was Brennan’s home.  He owned it.  It belonged to him. 
It was somehow still a part of him.

He stood next to her, his muscles
tensed, as he breathed in the emptiness that was once a home.  She could tell
this was hard for him.  He had told her before that he only came up here to mow
the lawn.  She didn’t know the last time he had been inside.

Devon reached out and placed her
hand in his own.  She squeezed gently, just letting him know she was there.  She
was there for him, just like he had always been there for her.

“I should have had someone come in
here to clean beforehand,” he said wistfully.  It should have been the last
thing on his mind, but the only thing he could concentrate on.

Devon didn’t even notice that the
house needed to be cleaned.  She was too busy admiring the house itself with
its massive high-vaulted ceilings, enormous fully furnished living room with a
fireplace, and the twelve-person dining room table with antique china held in a
nearby glass cabinet.  The foyer opened to a spiral staircase, leading to a
balcony upstairs.  And that was just the view from the entranceway.  Devon
couldn’t imagine what else lay beyond.

“It’s beautiful, Brennan,” she
said, awestruck.  She had been raised in a big house, but this was
Brennan’s
house.  It felt different.

“Thanks.  My dad really cared
about the place.  He took good care of it after my mom left.  I guess I was in
the fifth grade when that happened,” he said with a shrug.  “The house was too
big for just the two of us.  I think he wanted more kids, but he loved my mom
too much to remarry.”

“Is that why she thought he would
leave her money?” she asked softly.  She would have never asked that before,
but now, she felt it was better just to get her questions out of the way.

Brennan faced her with a smile. 
“I think so.  I’m glad he didn’t leave her anything though.  She didn’t love
him anymore.  She didn’t deserve it.”

“No, probably not.” Devon wrapped
her arms around his middle and held on to him tightly.  “I’m so sorry about
your dad.”

“Me, too, Belle.”

He kissed the top of her head,
and he let her hold him until they both had their emotions back under control.

“Come on, I’ll give you a tour of
the house, but first, I want to show you something.”

He took her hand in his and
walked them down a long hallway.  Devon peeked into an open door on the left
and saw a kitchen that was bigger than Brennan’s apartment in the city.  It had
all dark cabinets, granite countertops, and stainless steel appliances.  Devon
gawked as she passed.

They entered into a sunroom framed
with full-length glass windows.  The entire room stretched out to the length of
the house.  It opened up onto an adjoining balcony that had wicker rocking
chairs and a porch swing.  The balcony had a set of stairs that led down to a
covered rectangular pool.  Beyond that was the entire expanse of Lake Michigan.

“Oh my God,” she gasped.

“Pretty nice view, right?” he
asked.

“Pretty nice?” she stuttered,
turning to face him.

He was already staring at her.

Brennan dropped his guitar case
on the porch, and then he bent down and kissed her, crushing her to him.  His
lips were hot on her.  She threw her hand around his neck with abandon.  All
her thoughts stilled, and there was only the two of them.  She was lost to the
rest of the world, and for once, that was the right way to be.

They kissed like that until Devon
pulled away.  Breathless, her chest rose and fell heavily, and when he smiled,
her insides ignited.

Grasping her hand again, he
picked his guitar case back up, directed her down the set of stairs, around the
pool, and down a large set of stairs to the shoreline.  She kicked off her
sandals before she sank her feet into the dark sand.

“Thanks for coming with me.”  He
set his guitar case on the last step and then took a seat next to it.

Devon sat down on the step and
stared out at the beautiful backdrop.  “I wouldn’t miss this for the world.”

“I, uh…wanted to try something,”
he said, “if you’ll humor me.”

He reached for his guitar case,
unlatched the lock, and pulled the guitar out of the container.  It was the
same one he had played on the night of his open mic performance.  He had
another one that he usually played at home, but she liked this one better.  He
picked at the strings and adjusted them until they were in tune.  She watched
his hands strum the guitar with precision.  She had never thought she would be
interested in a musician.  She tended to steer clear of them, but as with
everything else, Brennan was different.

Brennan started humming the final
song that he had played at the show, “Moving Forward.”  She had heard it dozens
of times over the last three weeks, and she knew all the words.  Now, it made
her heart happy rather than sad.  He had known her pain even before she had
allowed him in.  That kind of chemistry and intuition astounded her.

He paused in the song, but he let
his fingers continue to pick out the tune.  “Will you do me a favor?

Devon nodded.

“Take the higher octave on the
chorus?”

Devon stared at him
.  He
wanted her to sing?
  She hadn’t let herself sing anywhere, except the car
and the shower, in years.  She wasn’t even sure if she still had a good voice. 
Music called to her but in lyric form only.  She wasn’t an artist.

She shook her head.  “No,
Brennan, I don’t sing.”

He smiled like he didn’t believe
her.  “Humor me.  No one else can hear you out here.”

Devon looked around the
shoreline.  He was right.  No one else was outside right now.  The house was
empty, practically deserted, and only the lake was before her.  Still,
she
could hear herself.

“What if I sound terrible?” she
whispered.

“Then, I’ll make fun of you, and
we can try again,” he said with a laugh.

She rolled her eyes at him before
she turned back to face the lake.  She breathed in and out, letting the air
calm her nerves.  Her eyes closed just as he picked up the chorus once more. 
His smooth voice filled her ears softly, like he was waiting for her to
harmonize with him.  She could sense that he was about to stop, so she dug up
the courage to join him.

Her voice was shaky at first. 
She didn’t use it enough anymore.  But she still sounded like herself, like she
had when she used to sing for her parents, when they had told her she was going
to be country music royalty one day.  Brennan’s song fit her voice better. 
They blended together with the music.  They each felt every painful memory
encapsulated in the words and sang them back to each other with more emotion
together than they ever had separately.  It was peaceful and healing.  When the
song ended, Devon opened her eyes and smiled.

“You were beautiful,” he said,
letting his hands rest on the guitar.

“Thank you.  It’s been so long
since I’ve sang anything.”

“Fooled me.”

“I’m a fool for you,” she said
with a giggle, leaning forward to kiss his lips.    Devon sighed, debating if
she could go through with what she was thinking.  Plucking up the courage, she
asked, “Do you mind…if I try something?  You know…since we’re here.”

Brennan smiled that gut-wrenching
smile and nodded.  “What did you have in mind?”

Devon reached into her purse and
pulled out the notebook that she always carried with her, the one she never let
anyone else see.  She flipped it open to a page near the back and left it
resting on her lap.  “You know that new song you’ve been strumming all week?”

He bit his lip like he was
considering something, and then he started picking out a tune.  “You mean this
one?” he asked.

“That’s the one.”

“What about it?  I’ve just been
messing around.”

Devon glanced down at her
notebook and then back up at him, trying to draw on the courage he always gave
her.  “I wrote lyrics for it.”