Page 46 of Falls From Grace
“Okay. We might need some extra vocals later, but we can work with that.”
Savannah took her hand and pulled her back to the mic. It was fixed down from the ceiling to sit at Brynn’s head height. Savannah stood on the other side, maybe six inches away, their height difference causing her to look up, just slightly.
“Brynn,” she whispered again, her gaze soft. “Just you and me.”
Brynn nodded. She kept her eyes on Savannah’s as the piano began.
“You make my knees weak,” Savannah’s low warm vocal began, her eyes never leaving Brynn’s. “You steal all my sleep,” her honeyed voice nearly moaned.
“Your lips keep me captive,” Brynn’s vocal was husky but at least in key, “your eyes lock the doors.” The words escaped her like a confession. “Your body could free me,” Savannah took a ragged breath as Brynn’s voice climbed “why aren’t I yours?”
“You draw me in closer,” Savannah’s eyes had gotten wide, “but I can’t make you stay. You render me breathless and just walk away.” Her chest was rising and falling erratically, but her voice stayed miraculously steady. They’d never looked each other in the eye while singing this song and right now it was becoming adamantly clear why. Singing this song to Savannah felt like getting naked with her.
“If I could just touch you,” Brynn begged, “I’d heal all your pain. I’d make you my own, again and again.”
Savannah’s pupils dilated and she gave Brynn a look of such ferocious, unmistakable want that Brynn gasped into the chorus as the drumbeat competed with her pounding heart.
“It’s only when I’m alone that you’re in my arms.” Her voice cracked with emotion, while Savannah’s soared. The chorus climbed and their voices intertwined. Brynn had no control over her facial expression anymore, helpless to the want and fear bleeding out absolutely everywhere, while Savannah’s eyes reflected hunger and pain of such magnitude that Brynn’s every breath was ragged. When they reached the final line of the chorus, Brynn felt with aching clarity that it wasn’t just the song; this was real, for both of them. It had to be. “I’m in love with your ghost,” she almost whispered, feeling tears stinging her eyes as she gazed at Savannah, whose neck was flushed a mottled red with emotion.
The rest of the song passed in a shocked blur as their gazes locked, finally utterly bare. Their eyes practically dared the other to look away, the lyrics almost beside the point as their mutual revelation unraveled. And then, there was silence. Savannah dropped back down on her heels, and only then did Brynn realize she’d sung the whole song on her tiptoes. They were both breathing like they’d run a marathon. For a solid fifteen seconds, you could have heard a pin drop.
“Fuck me,” breathed Coral and the entire room erupted in furious applause, the band getting to their feet, quickly followed by the session musicians: a standing ovation accompanied by whistles and exclamations. Brynn dragged her eyes from Savannah’s to see that Greta was standing up too, her face close to the glass, stock still and staring, while the label execs joined in the applause, giving each other high-fives and back-slaps. The voice came over the speaker.
“That was perfect,” Greta said. “Now let’s go again.”
Chapter Sixteen
Brynn paced around the darkened guesthouse. Noah was out having drinks with the band. She’d been invited along too, but she had far too much adrenaline to shake out to sit there sober all night, around a bunch of drunk musicians. Savannah was nowhere to be seen. After they’d sung to each other for three long, intense, intimate takes, Greta had set them free and Savannah had all but fled the room. Brynn had turned, wanting urgently to follow her, but the band had surrounded her, showering her with praise and questions and the label head had wanted to shake her hand. When she’d finally escaped, Savannah had disappeared.
She’d glimpsed her briefly at dinner, everyone rowdy with the glow of a successful day of recording, Savannah down the other end of the table from her, avoiding eye contact with her entirely. Then she’d pulled the vanishing act again. Brynn told herself to give her space. Recording would be over in another two days, after which they’d return to Vermont to finish writing, and there, Brynn could finally tell her the truth - all of it - and see where they landed.
Which was how she’d ended up wearing holes in the floor of the guesthouse. She was arguing herself in circles. Savannah had feelings for her; Savannah just had feelings for the music. Savannah wanted her; Savannah would be horrified to know that Brynn was straight up falling in love with her. She was on the brink of being the happiest she’d ever imagined being; she was on the brink of heartbreak.
She was staring out over the pool toward the darkened main house when a light snapped on on the ground floor. Brynn saw a silhouette clearly illuminated in the distant window. Savannah was not only home, she was right there, in the kitchen, just off the main living room. Without pausing to reconsider, Brynn pushed her way out the door, past the pool, and into the house. By the time she got there, Savannah was just switching off the light and turning to go. She gasped when Brynn entered the room.
“Oh god,” she said, “you gave me a fright.” She put the bottle of water back down on the counter and straightened her spine. Her eyes were slightly wide. “What are you doing here?”
Brynn swallowed. She didn’t have a good answer for that. She drifted closer, her eyes adjusting to the dim room. Savannah was dressed for bed in a small pale cotton camisole and tiny matching shorts. Her hair was loose and her shoulders, her arms and her thighs were all bare. Brynn had never seen so much of her skin and she was… not coping.
“I need to talk to you,” she said, trying to make her voice firmer than she felt. Savannah stood still.
“I don’t think that’s a good idea.” She raised her chin and looked away. Brynn took a step closer.
“Why not?”
Savannah kept her gaze averted, so Brynn stepped closer again, trying to get her to meet her eye. Savannah stepped back until her back hit the counter and then, finally, with nowhere further to go, she looked up.
“I think you know why,” she whispered.
Brynn’s heart began to pound. It was an admission, but it wasn’t enough.
“I need to hear you say it.” She stopped just in front of her, almost close enough to touch. Savannah bit her lip and didn’t speak, her blue eyes almost begging. “Why can’t I be here?” Brynn pressed.
“It’s late,” Savannah tried, her gaze darting sideways.
“So?”
“I…” her voice petered out. Her chest rose and fell the same way it had in the studio, and Brynn found herself drawn unstoppably closer, stepping all the way in until their bodies were only inches apart.
