Graceless (Grace Notes #2)

Lane was a romantic kisser, making her unexpectedly breathless. With Lane’s lips on hers under the moonlit night, Cassidy felt like a character in an epic romantic movie; she practically heard the music soar as Lane slid their hands into her hair. They were bold and confident with her body, but there was a noticeable tremble of anticipation in their hands as they undid the buttons of her dress. That Lane was so affected by her made her feel incredibly desirable, freeing her to move her body for both of their pleasure.

Cassidy had never experienced even a shadow of the heat that overtook her. Her first time with Evan, there’d been excitement too; at first it had felt taboo and grownup and delicious. But the excitement had eventually been replaced with discomfort, even pain, as things progressed, and try as she might to understand exactly what the big deal about sex was, it only ever felt like something being done to her, not with her, like she was absent from her own body.

With Lane, every part of her lit up, aching to be touched, and everywhere they did touch her caused sparks of heat under her skin, her blood alive and roaring and her core molten hot. Everything became shockingly slick and wet, a hungry ache inside her, burning for relief. That the relief never came was torture, and while Cassidy had intellectually accepted it when Lane had told her they couldn’t finish what they’d started, her body was still stuck in a state of disbelief.

Surely, it nagged at her, surely that can’t be it. Not now something so desperate and primal had been awoken within her. She imagined being the kind of girl who’d go home with an attractive bartender, walk into his strange bedroom and take off all her clothes so they could continue the ache Lane had started, and finally relieve her of it. Was she that kind of girl? Cassidy wasn’t sure yet.

All she was sure of was that when she walked downstairs for breakfast and saw Lane sitting casually in a v-neck t-shirt at the table, their dark hair swooping like a 1950s movie star and only the slightest flicker of eye contact when they saw her appear in the cute pink cotton dress she’d picked out, everything inside her burned.

That afternoon, she left the studio and wandered. She picked out famous locations on the map on the new iPhone her sister had given her and navigated around by foot. Music was everywhere, from the buskers, to the bars, even piped out of the ground where she walked. She picked a cafe at random, and within minutes, a duo took the stage in the corner. Cassidy found herself open mouthed with awe at their voices, their music, their songs.

She thought of Brynn’s warning all over again. Could she compete with the undiscovered talent in this room alone, without the association with her famous sister? But if she was associated with her, what did that mean? To skip the hard work, to leapfrog others who were probably wildly better than her? No kudos, no dues earned, no favor she’d grown all on her own. Cassidy leaned her chin on her hand and watched the musicians, feeling some kind of combination of glum and inspired.

She paid for her cherry pie and cola, then walked back out to the street. The afternoon was slick and humid as usual, but an appealing breeze lifted her hair off the back of her neck. A handsome man tipped his cowboy hat at her, frank interest in his eyes, and she smiled.

She wandered into record stores, into vintage stores, into bookstores, all while daydreaming of being on any one of those Nashville stages. She was on her own, her guitar in hand – no – she had a full backing band behind her, standing front and center. The crowd loved her, the new unknown artist taking Nashville by storm. She looked down into the audience and saw warm caramel eyes looking up at her, admiration and desire glowing there. The daydream shifted sharply, those same eyes on her, right up close, the two of them tangled up in the sheets as she rocked her hips, frenzied with pleasure at their touch. Cassidy blinked, her cheeks flushed as her vision cleared and she realized she was literally sexually fantasizing in public now.

She found her way back to Music Row, to the bar she and Coral had frequented earlier that week, slipped on to a bar stool and watched as the bartender raised his head and saw her. She smiled.

“Cassidy?” The male voice was gentle, and she opened her eyes. Outside the window of the car was a familiar oak tree. Burt was smiling at her. “Home sweet home,” he said, kindly not mentioning she’d literally dozed off on the trip home.

She thanked him and drifted out of the car and back toward the house in the evening sky. God, everything was so beautiful here. She couldn’t stop smiling, even as she had to concentrate on putting one foot in front of the other.

“Oh!” She looked up and saw the whole family were at dinner. Her beautiful sister and her gorgeous wife, their adorable child and…and Lane. She stumbled slightly as they looked up and saw her approaching. Damnit, Lane was beautiful too. She poured herself into a seat opposite them. “Hi family,” she smiled.

“Hi!” Brynn was looking extremely amused, while Savannah was frowning slightly.

“Hi!” Cassidy beamed back. Lane was looking at her directly for once, an odd expression on their face.

“Had a good time?” Brynn asked her, her eyes bright.

“I did.” She swayed slightly on the chair. “I think I love Nashville.”

“I see.” Savannah looked slightly concerned, but then she almost always looked slightly concerned when she looked at Cassidy. “What have you been up to?”

“I went exploring,” she beamed, “and then I went to a bar.”

“Alone?” Savannah frowned.

“No,” Cassidy reassured her. “I know the bartender.”

Lane twitched noticeably.

“Friend of yours?” Brynn asked, with interest.

“You could say that,” she agreed. Lane dropped their fork with a clatter and picked it up again quickly, glaring down at their plate. Cassidy imagined, just for a second, lurching across the table to kiss them. She didn’t, though.

“Cassidy,” Savannah started, “can you… maybe, not get drunk with random strangers? I love that you’re getting out there and having fun, but maybe take Lane with you next time? Everyone needs a wingman.”

“I’m Tucker’s babysitter, not Cassidy’s.” Lane’s voice was tight, their face flushing. “She’s an adult, isn’t she? She can do what she wants.”

Savannah looked astonished. Cassidy wondered if Lane had ever given her pushback in their life.

“I’m sorry,” her sister apologized, her brow furrowing. “I didn’t mean it like it was your job. I just thought you two might end up being friends.”

Lane looked mutinous.

“Lane doesn’t like me much.” Cassidy tried to help. “But it’s okay. We’re finding ways to work around it.”