Moving in Reverse (18 page)

Being with Blake was like trying to
catch fire with bare hands. But I was getting good at holding
on.

And then he was ready, and he looked
down at me for a moment, and I wanted to memorize his face, his
breath catching as he held himself back, his eyes the bluest I’d
ever seen them, staring at me like there was nothing else in the
world.

I love you,
I thought.
I love you I
love you I love you.

Chapter
Twenty-Four

I’d always heard that girls looked at
themselves in the mirror afterwards, trying to decide if they
seemed any different, if anyone else could tell.

I didn’t need to. Wrapped in Blake’s
arms afterwards, I could feel the glow radiating off my body. It
was like my skin had set fire.

“
Was it worth the wait?” I
asked him, feeling dumb, giddy, happier than I’d ever
been.

Blake smiled, planted a kiss in my
hair. “You tell me, Case — you’ve been waiting a lot longer than I
have.”

I punched him in the stomach. “Nice —
pick on the virgin you just deflowered. Classy, Blake,” I grinned,
resting my cheek on his shoulder. “I want to get up but I think my
legs are still shaking.”

I felt his chest rise and fall with
laughter, the best feeling in the world.

“
Maybe,” I said softly,
not wanting to break the moment. “Maybe you could play me what you
were working on?”

I felt Blake’s body stiffen, and for a
moment I worried it was the wrong thing to ask. But then he
exhaled, running a finger down my arm distractedly.

“
I don’t even know why I’m
still writing music,” he said quietly, into my hair. “It’s like
trying to paint without a canvas. All I’ve got is the
brush.”

I thought about it for a second.
“Blake, you’re the best painter I know. You could paint a side of a
building, a sidewalk, sand that gets washed away in the ocean.
You’re still creating something beautiful.”

I couldn’t see his face, wasn’t sure
if I was getting through. If Blake never joined another band, I’d
want him to keep making music, just for me. It would be like
keeping the Mona Lisa in your living room.

At the end of the day, I was greedy. I
wanted Blake, all of the Blake I fell in love with, and that
included his music too.

“
Please,” I whispered,
picking up the guitar from where he’d set it on the ground. I
picked up Blake’s shirt from the floor and slid it over my
shoulders, buttoning a few of the buttons I’d been so anxious to
rip off.

Blake shook his head, smiling. “You
win.” He put out a hand to take the guitar. “This is still really
rough.”

I had to stop myself from holding my
breath as his fingers picked across the strings, coaxing out a
haunting melody that evolved into rock chords, intense and
thundering even on the small amp Blake had connected the electric
guitar to. It was delicate and powerful in turns, the kind of song
that builds up to something before you realize where it’s going, so
that your head starts to move involuntarily when the music finally
gets you where it wants you, like it’s part of you. I felt shivers
down my spine and tried to hold my breath, not wanting to miss a
moment.

It was amazing.

I hugged my knees to my chest,
watching as Blake picked out the final notes, the coda wavering in
the air as Blake teased it off the strings. He gently set his
fingers down, silencing the music.

We looked at each other for what felt
like a long time.

“
It’s incredible,” I
breathed. “I’ve never — it’s just...” I couldn’t find the words. I
wanted to kiss him, to fling myself into his arms. To ask him to
play it again, and again, and again.

“
Not that I can do
anything with it now,” he said, his tone more sheepish than angry.
“But it’s good, huh?”

“
It’s amazing,” I exhaled.
“I don’t even have words.”

At that, Blake burst into abrupt
laughter.

“
I don’t get it,” I said,
raising an eyebrow. “What’s so funny?”

“
I don’t have words
either, Case,” he smiled. “There aren’t any lyrics yet.”

“
You’ll find them,” I
said, meaning it. Blake’s lyrics were my favorite thing about
Moving Neutral, like poetry set to the best music there was.
“They’ll come.”

Blake shook his head, smiling. “I wish
I had your confidence,” he said softly. “I hope you’re right.
Anyway,” he set the guitar down on a stand next to the couch. “I’m
going to hop in the shower,” he winked. “Feel free to join
me.”

I blushed, which shouldn’t have been
possible after what we’d just done, but I was still Casey Snow at
heart. “Maybe,” I smiled after him as he walked up the
stairs.

When Blake was out of sight, I lay
back against the couch, curling my knees to my chest. I took a deep
breath and closed my eyes.

Maybe we
should
move to
California, I thought. Everything was perfect here.

The ocean breeze rustled the curtains,
and I shivered before going over to close them. The phone rang,
reminding me that I should call Madison, how much she’d die over
this story, but I didn’t budge. I closed my eyes, feeling my lips
creep involuntarily into a smile.

I just needed another moment to savor
it first.

Chapter
Twenty-Five

Blake came down the stairs a few
minutes later, buttoning his jeans as he walked towards me, a shirt
draped over his arm.

I raised an eyebrow. “I thought you
were taking a shower?”

But Blake’s face was serious as he
came over to the couch, sitting down next to me and taking my hand.
It was hard to focus with his half-naked chest in front of me, but
I could tell that something was about to happen.

Was he going to propose? I
almost laughed out loud thinking about it. We were eighteen — well,
I was eighteen, and I guess people in Hollywood ran off to Vegas
for weekend weddings, but that was definitely not part of
my
life plan.

Blake opened his mouth and cut off my
thoughts. His face wasn’t flirty-proposal serious. It was ‘I have
to tell you something’ serious.

And ‘I have to tell you something’
serious is basically never good.

“
What is it?” I said,
bracing myself for the worst. He’d realized, after finally sleeping
me, that I wasn’t what he wanted after all. There was an asteroid
heading for the earth and we had two hours to live. He’d just given
me syphilis.

I shook my head imperceptibly. I was
obviously losing my mind. Hadn’t syphilis been cured after World
War Two?

“
What is it?” I repeated,
more forcefully, trying to focus on Blake’s words and not where my
wild imagination was going.

“
It’s—” he paused. I’d
almost never seen Blake at a loss for words. “Well,” he took a deep
breath, settled his shoulders, and looked me square in the eye.
“It’s Moving Neutral. They signed a new guitarist.”

I tried to paint my face into a
picture of shock, but Blake was telling me something I already
knew.

That I hadn’t told him.

And now the moment that I could was
gone.

Déjà vu’s a bitch, no?

He continued. “It’s not like I didn’t
know it was coming. My agent’s been involved in the discussions,
since they still have to pay me royalties for the songs on our
first album. So I knew they were getting close,” he paused, “even
before Sophie decided to rub it in last week.” He leaned his head
back against the sofa, sighing. “I mean, they had to. It’s a
business. I’m the one who left.” He said it like he was reminding
himself.

“
Blake, if you want to go
back...” I wasn’t sure what I was getting at, but I wanted him to
know that I wasn’t standing in his way. I just wanted Blake to be
happy.

He shrugged, defeated. “Nothing to go
back to, at this point.” He looked down for a long time. “It just
sucks, you know? I write all the songs, I tear out my heart onstage
for two years, and they replace me in six weeks. Blake Parker, 2.0.
This one a little more interested in mock-dating April for the
press and starring on a reality show. Just great.”

I felt tears well up in my eyes as I
listened to Blake talk. It sounded so hopeless, exactly the way I
hadn’t wanted it to be.

“
You could start another
band,” I threw it out hollowly, already guessing that Blake had
thought through that option.

“
With who?” He shrugged
again, hopelessly. “It’s not just me, it’s not just the songs, it’s
everyone together. Besides, there’s not a music company alive
that’s going to want to work with me after all this shit with April
went down. At best, I can write music and sell it to other bands.”
He laughed bitterly, without smiling. “Maybe I’ll write a Moving
Neutral song again, after all. Their new guy doesn’t even write his
own music.”

I didn’t know what to say.
I never knew what to say. And worst of all, there was something
I
wasn’t
saying:
that the new guitarist was Tanner, than I knew him, that I’d been
photographed eating lunch with him that afternoon. That I’d
betrayed Blake, just like everyone else had. Again.

But this time I’d learned my lesson.
Keeping the secret would only make things worse. And this time I
didn’t even have a hope of keeping it to myself — Tanner and I were
photographed today, and the whole world would know about our stupid
lunch by the middle of next week.

“
Blake,” I whispered, as
if I couldn’t even get up the courage for the words to come out of
my mouth. The last time I’d kept a secret from Blake, April had
told it for me. After I’d tried to come clean and chickened out too
many times to count.

This time I was going to tell the
truth, no matter how much it hurt. Blake looked over at me, but I
couldn’t meet his eyes.

“
There’s something…” I
started, feeling my stomach twist into knots at the thought of
hurting Blake and more than he’d already been hurt today. “Blake,
the new guitarist... I know him.”

Blake blinked, looked for
a second like he was going to laugh. “You
know
him?” he said
incredulously.

“
I mean, I — I’ve met him
a few times. At that show in New York a few weeks ago. He was up at
Columbia looking for you one day. He sort of saved me from falling
on my face in front of about a million photographers
today.”

I held my breath, watching Blake’s
face register what I was saying — at first, he just looked
confused, like he kept waiting for me to say that I was joking. But
then his face hardened, and I felt my body freeze under his
gaze.

He said one word.

“
Today?”

I felt like I’d been punched in the
stomach. “Blake, you don’t understand, I was trying to help, I
thought I could smooth things over, after what happened with
Sophie, and—”

He cut me off. “So, on the
day that
my band
announced that they’ve replaced me, my girlfriend runs off to
pose for paparazzi photos
with the guy who
replaced me?
”

The pit in my stomach deepened. It
really did sound awful.

Blake paused for a second,
and something else seemed to dawn on him. “
Tanner Cole
,” he said like in the
tone you’d use for a cockroach or a poisonous snake. “With
my girlfriend
.”

“
It wasn’t like that. I
was trying to help, I really was — I didn’t even know that he was
going to be there, and then it all happened so fast, and I just
didn’t...” I trailed off. I wasn’t going to be able to explain my
way out of it. “Blake, I love you.”

His fingers were wrapped so tightly
around the arm of the couch that I thought it might
snap.

“
And then what, Casey? You
came home and fucked me, what? As backup?”

My jaw dropped. I tried to form words,
but I felt my lips start to shake, tears forming in my eyes in a
split second. It felt like my whole body was imploding, breaking
down. My chin quivered, and then a tear dropped.

“
April was right. Sweet,
innocent Casey Snow, always playing an angle.”

“
Blake—” It came out
almost a scream. I was trying to sound reasonable at this point,
but my body was in hysterics. I curled my legs tighter to me on the
couch. “You know that’s not true,” I cried, tears falling freely
now, as I made no effort to hold them back. “I love you,” I sobbed,
trying to get him to hear it.

“
Those are words, Casey,”
he said sadly. “Just words.”

“
Not to me,” I took one
hand and reached for his arm, trying to fix this, trying anything I
could. “There’s nothing between me and Tanner,” I whimpered.
“
Nothing
.
We’re
friends
,
that’s it. Blake, please.”