Page 50 of Saving Graces
“It’s not just that,” her voice was small. “I said it in a shitty way, but it’s still true. You’re going to get an actual education, then a real professional job. You’ll have money and a career, and I’ll still be waiting tables. Let’s not kid each other, okay? It was one thing when we were just kids but our lives are just going to get more and more different until that’s how we lose each other.”
“Listen,” Rosalie said fiercely. “You are not going to lose me. I don’t care if you’re broke or a millionaire, you’re my best friend and I’m going to love you just the same. Okay?” She felt Savannah nod against her shoulder. She pulled back. “Besides, we both know I’m the boring one and you’re the one who’s truly interesting. I can’t wait to see what you do with your life. I’m pretty sure it’s going to blow stupid sororities and beer pong parties out of the water.”
That summer felt bruising. The losses just kept piling up. On the one hand, Rosalie couldn’t wait to leave. The city felt cloying, like a trap, like her old life she was dying to shed like a skin. On the other hand, knowing she was finally leaving made everything more fragile, precious and glowing. There was a tension and an ache every time she hung out with Savannah. No matter what she’d promised, it was still the end of something and they both knew it.
The night before she was due to leave, they drove out to the old grain tower in a paddock on the outskirts of town. They climbed the metal ladder up to the platform and watched as the sun sank down and the lights of the Nashville skyline appeared. They talked a little: Rosalie’s plan to drive herself cross-country to California, the band Coral had started, Savannah’s idea to find a second job almost as something just to do, and as always, Rachel.
They fell silent as the night stretched on. Rosalie let her head rest on Savannah’s shoulder and they listened to the crickets and looked at the city that now belonged to just one of them.
When they got back to Savannah’s, Rosalie produced the present she’d hidden in the back of her car. It was a second-hand but fancy acoustic guitar she’d saved up for with her own part-time job at the mall.
“You live in Nashville,” she told her friend, “and you can really sing. Maybe, if you want, you should learn to play guitar as well and who knows where you’ll end up?”
Savannah looked down and scuffed her feet. She held the guitar tentatively by its neck, then wrapped one arm around Rosalie, whispering her thanks.
“I didn’t get you a present,” she said. “But maybe I’ll write you a song instead.”
Rosalie didn’t know how to say goodbye and it seemed like Savannah didn’t either. They’d hugged again and pulled back, and for a tiny second it almost seemed like they were going to kiss. Looking back she could never tell who pulled back first, but in the end, neither of them said goodbye. She just got into her car and drove away.
Chapter Fifteen
Kinsey yawned and stretched in the early morning light. Her limbs felt deliciously heavy but there was a lightness in her chest. The night before came flooding back to her. Rosalie letting go of that robe, the unbelievable way she’d ridden herself to orgasm on Kinsey’s mouth like some kind of flexible goddess, the desperate sexiness of the way she’d made Kinsey come, completely overwhelming her with heat.
And the way they’d both been left wanting more. She’d wanted nothing more than to spend the night, comprehensively taking Rosalie apart, but since she’d wanted to see her again she’d absolutely known better. She couldn’t help her satisfied smirk now as she remembered the expression on Rosalie’s face, beyond shocked that Kinsey wasn’t going to stay for pillow talk and more sex. She’d left her hanging and she knew it.
That seemed to be the key to Rosalie though. Come on too strong and she’d run. Kinsey had no intention of letting her run, not this time. There was another week and half of them in this house and she wanted to stretch it out as much as possible, Rosalie spread out like whipped cream, the cherry on top of her days. Besides, watching her hunger after Kinsey was both deeply sexy and extraordinarily satisfying after the way she’d been pushed away the last time.
When Kinsey made it downstairs everyone was sitting around the dining room table for breakfast. Emmeline squawked as Savannah spoonfed her mashed bananas, Tucker babbled with his mouth full of cereal as Brynn tried to keep him contained and Cassidy and Lane leaned on each other, sleepy-eyed and adorable. And then there was Rosalie.
Goddamnit, she wasn’t doing anything particularly sexy, just holding a cup of coffee in her lovely hands. She wasn’t wearing anything that should be sexy, just a soft loose sweater. Still, Kinsey wanted to storm across the room, grab her by the arm and drag her back to bed immediately.
Their eyes met. Rosalie didn’t blush or do anything that could tip off the whole table that they’d had sex the night before. It was only Kinsey who saw the change in Rosalie’s eyes as she walked in, the slight flicker down her body, the perfectly clear I want to fuck you again that she flashed. Kinsey immediately walked into a chair, wincing as the hard wood collided with her shin.
“Oh! Watch out for those.” Savannah looked up at the clatter. “I keep meaning to get them replaced. They’re a real killer if you’re not paying attention.”
Rosalie hid her mouth behind her coffee cup and Kinsey sat down quickly before she could do anything else to show how extremely cool and smooth she was about this whole thing.
That morning in the band room, Kinsey was distracted as hell. After a while, Cassidy wound up more or less ignoring her, picking something out on her guitar from what Kinsey still insisted on calling the Sex Couch. Kinsey paced, her notebook flung on the floor, her own guitar abandoned. She sat at the piano and tinkered a while. Then she sat over at one of the two drum kits in the room, the electronic one, putting the headphones on so she didn’t disturb Cassidy. She smashed it out for a couple of minutes, but her brain could think of nothing but Rosalie, absolutely bare naked above her.
“Oh my god!” Cassidy finally cracked it. “You’re making me crazy. What’s wrong?”
Kinsey pulled off the headphones.
“Shit,” she said. “Sorry. My mind just isn’t in it this morning.”
“You seem four thousand miles away!”
“Yeah,” Kinsey said apologetically. It wasn’t four thousand miles, it was more like two hundred feet, or whatever it was to Rosalie’s bedroom right now.
“Are you okay?” Cassidy asked, managing to moderate her irritation. Lane had always talked about Cassidy’s famous fiery streak but this was almost disappointingly tame. Still, she didn’t like annoying her bandmate.
“Ugh,” Kinsey said, getting up and rubbing her face. “Sorry,” she apologized again. This was not what they came all the way to Vermont for. Cassidy kept looking steadily at her and Kinsey considered. She was dying to talk to someone, but she could only imagine how dimly Rosalie would view her telling her best friend’s little sister about what they’d been doing. “Ugh,” she said again and Cassidy raised her eyebrows.
“If you don’t talk to me about what’s going on right now I swear to god I will make you take that economy flight home.”
“No!” Kinsey gasped. “Don’t take my private jet from me!”
Cassidy scoffed. “Don’t you trust me?” she asked, employing her extraordinarily effective doe eyes.
