Finding the Dream (For the Love of Music #1.5) (14 page)

I know that Donovan’s dying to talk to Hanson, and probably my dad, but I don’t want anyone or anything to come between us when we still feel so fragile. We have to move further forward first.

- Sierra

Time with her is changing everything, but before we go any further, I have to get in touch with Hanson. And then (if Hanson doesn’t want to kill me) get some ideas as to how to talk to Sierra’s dad. Nothing can happen before then. Or…nothing else.

- Donovan

Sixteen

Blinking his scratchy eyes, Donovan crawled out of his van and walked slowly up the steps to his apartment. Had Sierra gotten the head space she needed? Time with her friend? Did he want to be seen by either of them that day after all the possible talking about him they’d done
the night before?

Sliding his key into the lock, he shoved away the questions in his head. He just needed to shower, change, and head to the store.
Saturdays
were busy. When he stepped into the apartment, he stopped still. Both women were crashed on the living room floor, piles of blankets and pillows around them. Sierra’s hand rested next to her laptop, which was open with a blacked-out screen.

Coffee cups littered the area around their heads and two plates of cookies sat on the coffee table, half eaten.

He watched Sierra for a moment. Her breaths slow and even, her hair tangled around her face. Grown up. She was grown up. And all the things he’d loved about her when she was younger had followed her into this very cool woman. As much as he and Sierra agreed to erase their night together, when he watched her, that’s what he felt—the closeness, the
want,
the feeling of all the pieces of each other’s bodies slipping together so perfectly.
But she was more than that. Felt like more than that, and he wasn’t quite sure what exactly that was. Yet.

Sierra let out slow breaths as Lindsey headed for the door, begging tears not to fall. They talked all the time, but her buffer was leaving. Her
friend who celebrated by eating a small ton of cookie dough was going home.

“Two days wasn’t enough,” she said.

Lindsey leaned against the door for a moment. “We talk all the time. It’ll be fine.”

“I know it’ll be
fine.
” Sierra paused, thinking of the four books they’d done rough outlines for. Ideas. “Actually. I totally don’t know that.”

“It
will
be,” Lindsey insisted before giving Sierra another hug. “My cousin is going to bang on the door again if I don’t run.”

“See ya online.” Sierra waved as Lindsey moved down the stairs.

The apartment felt empty. Donovan had given them almost too much space. The store had been slammed on Saturday and when he’d come home, he’d crashed.

Sunday night and Donovan was at the store marking all the boxes for the sidewalk sale. He’d added some new things, and certainly didn’t want to be part of accidentally selling off new gear at half off.

Sierra walked back across the living room and opened her cabinet to stare at the laptop that still sat open on the desk.

The idea that a lot of things in her life were changing made her pause. She missed Lindsey. Even missed living at home a little. She glanced at the empty couch. She really wished she could talk all of this through with Donovan.

Instead Sierra headed to her room. Soft peach sheets under her white down comforter and frames with favorite quotes stacked the walls. It really hadn’t even taken her all that long to make the room feel like her own. She took a deep breath in and sent Donovan a quick text.

Sierra: Do you want help? Lindsey headed home.

Donovan: You re-coop from whatever sugar-caffeine fest you had over the weekend. If I’m not home before you crash, I’ll see you tomorrow. I have a plan.

Her body tingled with warmth and she grinned.

Sierra
:
A plan?

Donovan: Yes, impatient one. For
tomorrow
. ;-)

Well, fine. She almost wrote him back, but he really was working hard. Maybe she’d take his advice and try to crash.

Now that Lindsey was gone, Donovan just wanted to spend time. Be. Try to find a way to relax around Sierra. He tugged on his pajama pants, and scratched his head, knowing his hair was already stuck up from sleeping.
The more time he spent away to give her time, the bigger she seemed. The larger moving forward felt.

Sierra hummed as she scrolled on her laptop and the moment he paused at the end of the hall, her eye snapped toward his. “Morning.” She beamed.

“I’d like…” He folded his arms. “I wanna spend the day with you.”

“Oh-kay…” She bit her lip and glanced back toward her laptop. “I’m gonna have to finish a few things here first.”

“No.” Donovan tightened his arms. “I meant that I’d like to just…be your shadow. Follow you. See what you do. I feel like I’m trying to take months of getting to know you and cramming that into a few days or something, but yeah… I just… I wanna know more about what you do.”

“You’re serious?” she asked. She leaned away slightly and her brows rose nearly to her hairline in disbelief, but he could also see her mouth twitch in the beginnings of a smile. “You wanna be my shadow. All day? You don’t even like the Internet. You realize almost my whole job takes place on the Internet, right?”

“Yeah.” He sat on the counter facing the living room. “I’m curious, you know?”

“Today’s gong to be boring,” she warned.

“How boring?”

“I’m sewing. And getting ready to send off the outlines for my book ideas while I work up the courage to actually hit send on that email.” She stood and walked toward him.

“Okay.” Well, crap. He knew nothing about sewing, but he knew nothing about anything Sierra did. “So, what’s first?”

“Depends on what you want for breakfast?” She pinched his knee as she walked around the counter and moved for the fridge.

“Something simple.”

“When I’m going to have a simple breakfast, I usually just do nuts and apples.”

He was in for the experience. “Okay.”

“Maybe…” She pulled out a couple apples and began chopping them into small cubes. “I think I want a hot breakfast.”

Her hands moved impossibly fast. “I feel totally incompetent when I’m in the kitchen with you.”

“Maybe you can help me cook dinner, then.” She smiled but her eyes didn’t leave the cutting board where she was now using a massive knife to chop pecans.

“Is that safe?” he asked as the knife moved so quickly that his eyes didn’t register it hitting the cutting board until it was up again.

She slid the knife across the board, shoving the nuts into her palm before she dumped them on the apples. “Are you worried part of my finger will end up in breakfast?”

“No.” He slid off the counter. “I’m worried that you’ll
lose
part of your finger.”

“I sort of did once.” She held up her finger. “Wanna see?”

His stomach clenched at the thought of her being hurt, but still… She was holding out her hand, so he took it and rubbed his finger over her finger pad that was just a little
flatter than the rest. “How did I not know about this?”

Sierra stared at where their hands came together. “I don’t know. It wasn’t a big deal.”

It was kind of a big deal to him. His heart jumped a few times in worry that was no longer needed.

She turned and flicked on the stovetop, then used a spatula to spread butter over the apples and nuts.

“What are you doing?” he asked.

“Making breakfast. Trust me.”

She pulled a jar from the cupboard that was filled with some concoction she’d made. “Butter, brown sugar, and cinnamon are sort of a winning combo.”

“I’m in.” The smell filled the apartment and he relaxed next to her again. Her hair messy from sleep and her old t-shirt stained and faded, and yeah… No pretenses. No trying. No putting on shows. Just them. This was exactly what he wanted.

Donovan’s body was nestled against Sierra’s on the couch. Shoulders. Hips. Thighs. Occasionally calves. Her laptop rested on her lap and his face was so incredibly close to hers as he watched that she found herself holding her breath.

When Donovan asked to follow her for a day, he’d been serious.

“No.” He shook his head. “I still don’t get twitter. Hashtags make no sense.”

“I can do a search with them, see?” She typed in #Sewing and hit enter. “Because I’m going to be doing sewing projects on the blog this week so maybe I’ll get some new sewing followers by finding people who like to sew on twitter.”

She felt Donovan’s eyes on her. Once again felt every place they touched. “There are a lot of people on here who I don’t think I follow or who follow me, so that’s good. I’m tapping into a new pool.”

“And this is why you’re so popular? Because you go trolling?” he teased.

“No,” Sierra teased. “I'm pretty sure it’s my general awesomeness.”

Two people were re-covering sofas… Hmm… She might learn something from them before she attempted it on her blog.

Donovan’s finger touched her chin, and she turned to face him. So perfectly close.

“This is good.” His finger fell. “I like hanging out with you.”

“Me too,” she squeaked.

Donovan swallowed and pointed to her computer. “Let’s not leave your new fish waiting.”

“Fish?”

“You’re the one who brought up the pool of followers.”

“Maybe birds, since we’re on twitter? Or chicks?”

Donovan chuckled again next to her, touching her cheek briefly with his finger. “You find your new pool of followers. I’m going to shower, and you can show me what’s next.”

Sierra watched him go, touching where his finger had just touched her faces.
Nobody cared about the details of what she did. Her parents read her blog, but they’d never asked about how it all worked. She’d told him about impressions for ads, and the freebies she sometimes got in the mail…

The shower turned on and she snapped her attention back to the screen. Better think about the next blog post or her book or agents, otherwise she’d be imagining Donovan and his naked body in the shower. With soap.
Again.

Donovan held the knife with a grin. “Show me?”

She stepped behind him, sliding her hand down his forearm and resting her hand over his. “For mincing, just roll back and forth like this.”

Her strong hands moved the knife quickly over whatever herb they were destroying on a cutting board that he didn’t recognize.

“I think you should keep helping me,” he teased.

It felt like an easy way to be close without them being close just to be close. There was still a purpose since she was teaching him how to cook…whatever they were cooking.

“Are you seriously just trying to keep me next to you?”

He moved the knife on his own, much more slowly. “I seriously am.”

She slipped her hands around his stomach from the back and leaned against him, resting her chin on his shoulder. “Okay.”

Nerves danced around in him, but not as much as hope. Donovan paused and rested his arms over hers. “Slow.”

Sierra kissed his back before letting him go. “Slow.”

He waited for the room to feel stilted or awkward, but instead Sierra dropped the noodles into the water with a smile and slid the boiled chicken toward him.

“Now we use all your herbs and all that cracked pepper to blacken it. You wanna try, or watch?”

He only paused for a moment before he knew that she’d love for him to try, and it might be a way to feel her hands on him again. “Try.”

Sierra had re-checked her email, and wandered around on Pinterest to figure out a few more things to try. Her heart was still full from her day. From the millions of times Donovan brushed against her, and asked her questions, and touched her, and finally the very soft kiss on her cheek before she stumbled into her room. She was practically drunk on all the awesomeness, so she opened twitter.

Today was the perfect day. Perfect. #Perfect #forrealz

Sierra relaxed into her bed. How did she begin to pay Donovan back for what he’d done for her that day? Did he realize what a big deal it had been?

He’d even helped her edit her blog post on
Hanging Posters to Look Purposeful
. How would she ever top that?

Seventeen

Sierra pushed into Great Outdoors with two sandwiches in hand. The big sale was that weekend, and everything was set, but she was looking for an excuse to drop in.

The second the door closed behind her, Alyson’s voice rang out. “Can I help—”

“Hey,” Sierra gave her a wave. “I have…”

How was she supposed to handle being around the ex-girlfriend? Was it a big deal? Not a big deal? Maybe she should have sent Donovan a text before she’d come. Navigating possible awkward situations was not one of her strengths.

“I have lunch for Donovan.”

“He’s finishing up an interview because one of the newbies just quit.” Alyson wandered for the cash register, and Sierra stood in the middle of the store feeling like an awkward thirteen year old.

“Yeah.” She started for the back room. “I’ll just… I’ll wait back there.”

Alyson peered at her through thick lashes before shuffling something under the counter.

Sierra leaned for the back door but her feet hadn’t moved yet. Should she wait for the okay from Alyson? Why did this feel so…wretchedly awkward?

Whatever.

She pushed into the back room, Donovan’s warm voice carrying through his office door. Sierra leaned against one of the shelves, her bag of food clutched in her hands. This was okay. She could just… She could just stand there and wait.

The door opened and Sierra jumped so high the bag slipped in her fingers.

“Hey.” Brandon gave her a wave before walking into the store.

Huh.

“Hey.” Donovan’s smile was wide. “I just hired your friend. Saving our ass at the moment.”

His job was so…
grownup.
She crafted, blogged, and wrote books that wouldn’t sell.

“I brought food.” She held up the bag.

Donovan leaned back holding his office door open. “Perfect. Come on in.”

She stepped past him, the smell of Donovan wafting over her, making her knees weak. She was really incredibly falling for him. Even more.

He let the door fall closed and she turned around to face him, the large bag still in her hands.

“Hey.” He started one way around her and then the next and then leaned in and quickly pecked her cheek.

She thought about leaning in and kissing him back, but maybe that would be weird? She set down the bag and by then Donovan was sitting on the opposite side of his desk in his chair.

“So, I—”

“Thanks, for—”

They both started at once.

Sierra gestured between them. “You first.”

“Ladies first.” He smirked.

“God, this feels awkward. Is this supposed to feel awkward?” She laughed.

“I don’t know.” He shook his head. “Maybe it’s just that things are different now?”

“Maybe,” she agreed. Maybe.

“Actually, I totally know.” He sat back in his chair.

Sierra cocked a brow in question.

“It’s that a part of me would love to lock the door and taste every inch of you on my desk.”

Wow
.

“But I'm determined to go slow, so I’m not acting around you the way I feel because I’m trying to use my brain instead of the part of me that really, really wants you again, because that part of me isn’t the smartest.”

She felt the flush start in her chest and reach all her fingers and toes. “I’m okay with that.”

He still thought about her. Still wanted her.
Surely she could force her body to be okay with going slow.

The next week passed in a blur of the sidewalk sale that Sierra and her group had put together, longer hours than he’d like at the store, training Brandon and trying to be a nice guy while balancing the very tricky balance of too many things:

Sending an email a day to Hanson to call.

Giving Sierra enough attention that she knew he was still interested and still moving forward, but not so much attention that he’d end up naked with her on the floor.

He spent a lot of time trying
not
to picture her naked on the floor.

He thought about how his dad would have handled this situation (jumping in with the girl and maybe trying to control every aspect of her day) and did the opposite. The problem with the opposite of that, is it kept him at work longer than he’d like because he still wasn’t positive how to navigate being around her without ending up tangled on the floor. Actually, he was almost certain he could, but not certain enough to spend too much time with that kind of temptation.

Solomon’s was coming up fast, and the idea of playing that large a venue was starting to set a panic in him that he wasn’t prepared for.

Maybe it was stupid that he wanted to talk to Hanson before taking the next stop with Sierra. Maybe he was an asshole for sleeping with her without talking to his friend. What he wanted to do wasn’t matching up with what he knew he should do, so he tiptoed through each day hoping he wouldn’t mess up.

For over a week Sierra had barely seen Donovan, but he’d made it home for dinner and a million apologies for how many dinners he’d missed.

Sierra paused, her forkful of food hanging halfway between her mouth and the plate. “I’m about to ask the question of death.”

Donovan’s brows rose but instead of frowning or shifting away, a corner of his mouth quirked up.

He really needed to stop that. His whole face looked kissable—especially the dimple he’d just created on his cheek.

“What… What are we right now? I feel like I’m afraid to touch you and maybe I should be, but maybe I shouldn’t be, and… I don’t know…”

“Um…” The corner of his mouth fell, but not into a frown. Into something more thoughtful. “Maybe right now we’re friends who sort of like each other but are going super slow because they’re a bit afraid of how big it all might be and what moving forward might mean.”

“Okay.”

He rested his elbows on the table and released a breath. “I
have
to talk to Hanson. Have to.”

Sierra stabbed another piece of chicken with her fork. “There’s this really cool thing called email…”

“Yeah, I know.” He pushed his food around on his plate. “Writing songs is one thing, but writing your brother to say that I’m thinking about his sister practically non-stop is a lot trickier.”

Non-stop
. Her heart raced.

“And I think there’s a lot to be said for the tone in someone’s voice, and I think he’d be a lot cooler about us if we could talk.” Donovan pushed his food around some more. “I’ve written him, but he must be somewhere he can’t get emails. On top of which, he’s at least as protective as your dad and he’s my good friend, so I’m… It’s just tricky is all.”

Sierra understood but didn't understand. “I…” But her voice tapered off.

“I’m also hoping that he’s not only okay with, um…us, but that he’ll know how to talk to your dad.” Donovan shoved a bite into his mouth, his eyes darting around the room.

Sierra could feel the tension in his body across the small table. “This is ridiculous, you know that?”

“What is?”

“That you’re so worried about them. I can date whoever I want.” She folded her arms, dinner forgotten.

Donovan sighed. “It’s not that easy. You know that. Your dad is paranoid.”

“Because of his stupid job.” The only reason Sierra hadn’t pushed back too hard against her father is because she could see why he was so paranoid. It’s a lot harder to be frustrated with someone when you can see where their fear comes from.

“And because he loves you. Just remember I promised your dad I’d watch out for you, and…” Donovan worked his jaw a few times.

“What?”

“Your mom’s worried that at some point you’ll really push back against your dad, and I can’t have that be because of me.”

Sierra’s frustration deflated. “Just know that I like you. I want to be with you. And I had this whole big plan when I got here to make that happen.”

“Plan?”

Heat rushed up her neck. “Never mind. It’s not important.”

He rubbed his forehead. “I want you to know me the way I am now. I’m far from perfect. I sometimes drink too much. Me and Chuck can act like five year olds. I obsess at work… You had a plan to get the attention of a guy you didn’t know.”

“I do know you. And we
all
have our faults.”

Donovan smiled as he pulled another bite off his fork with his teeth. “I haven’t found one of yours yet.”

“I…” Sierra tapped her phone. “Am on this too much.”

A corner of his mouth quirked up. “So we have stuff to learn.”

Yeah. Maybe a lifetime worth. Sierra smiled as she scooped up the last bite of dinner.

Donovan played two more small gigs at Mike’s bar, and Sierra took a video each time and posted it with insane response. The gig at Solomon’s was beginning to feel like a turning point. Just like him getting a chance to talk to Hanson would be a turning point. They’d all gotten a one-sentence email from someone who was
not
Hanson with the message that Hanson would be within phone or email range in a week or two. A week felt like an eternity, but he really wanted Hanson’s advice before approaching Clark—especially after Lani’s warning. If he hadn’t lived with them, hadn’t made promises about Sierra’s welfare, this whole thing would be a lot simpler.

What Donovan did know is that one small step at a time was the easiest way to make decisions. Small steps with Sierra. Small steps with music. No one was forcing him to make any big decisions yet, and for that, he was grateful.

Sierra worked on her book outlines. Spent time with Donovan when they could manage—even if she was still busy and they simply sat in the same room.

Every night he kissed her cheek, and every morning he did the same, but that was it. No talking about moving forward.

Going down the list of things she’d prepared to get his attention in the beginning felt silly now, at the same time—WEEKS OF TINY KISSES WAS IT? But she wasn’t going to do anything to jeopardize the fact that she felt a little closer to him everyday. Instead of him feeling like a goal to be attained, it felt like a process. Like the lazy river at the water park where she could finally relax. And she was. Relaxing right into Donovan. The best part about all of it? He was once again playing his guitar, and every part of that felt like home.