Page 45 of Courageous Yearnings

He was getting married.

There was no way he could hurt Blythe’s feelings not when he did care about her. Seeing her after the fire, unresponsive, and hearing how she had coded at the hospital had been so much to handle – but he did so without having an utter breakdown. If he could get through all of that without freaking out, then he could get through a ceremony that would make her happy.

It just felt wrong to marry someone if you didn’t bring anything to the table. She deserved better than someone like him. He didn’t have any family, no savings, no real background because he’d been so young. He was doing okay, flummoxing through life by himself. It was frankly a little scary to think that he would be responsible for someone else.

She deserved a lifetime of happiness, respect, and comfort. He would have to grow up and be the responsible one. There would be no more taking off for a concert, no getting completely drunk or hanging out with the fellas anymore. Life was changing, and he wasn’t sure if he was the right guy to take the lead in their lives.

“What’s wrong?” she said softly, touching his hand. “Are you feeling sick to your stomach again?”

He looked up to see her beautiful eyes and felt something move within him. He couldn’t hurt her, but she deserved to know the truth. She deserved so much more than he could give her.

“I just think you deserve someone better than me – and I’m scared I’m going to let you down,” he whispered openly, not holding back. “I barely have my life together. I like going to rock concerts, I like getting drunk occasionally, and I’m a complete troll when it comes to ogling you.”

“Why do you think that I expect any of that to change?” she whispered softly, smiling at him. “I like music and never got a chance to go to a concert because I’ve been working my butt off to hang onto my own sense of what normal is supposed to be - only to have it burn down around me. I don’t drink beer, but man, I do love a dirty martini…”

His eyes widened in surprise.

“Really?”

“I’m glad you look at me because I look at you too,” she confessed softly, her pale cheeks turning pink. “I think you are an incredible person, and I really can’t wait to get to know you better over the years. To me, that is what marriage is. Having your best friend, a partner, someone beside you to figure all of this out… because I think most people are barely hanging on nowadays. It’s kinda nice that neither of us is perfect, but maybe if we mix our two messy lives, then we can come up with something amazing.”

“So it’s okay that I’m nervous?”

“That just means you worry and try harder to do things right in my book.”

“And what if I’m panicking on the inside?”

“I would still want a panicked version of Lance beside me in life.”

“You don’t want someone who has his life figured out?”

“You like music, right?”

“Yeah…”

“So you know that song, ‘All My Life’ by the Foo Fighters,” she began, hesitating and looking a little unsure as his mouth dropped open in shock. “Well, those lyrics are deep – and soooo true. I think we are all searching for something, and sometimes something leads to absolutely nothing, but we are still on that proverbial rope hanging on…”

“Did you seriously just quote David Grohl to me?” he whispered hoarsely, staring at her in disbelief.

“I like rock music,” she shrugged.

He handed her the delicate teacup, crawling out of the bed urgently, before skidding in his socks on the wood floor, racing from the room and slamming into the doorway. He pedaled frantically, running down the short hallway, before dropping to his knees in the empty bedroom, digging in the closet. Grabbing his guitar, he raced back into the other room and stood before her. Blythe stared at him in shock as he began strumming, playing the chords to the song that she’d just been referring to, and her eyes lit up, smiling at him in approval.

“Where’s your amp?”

“Don’t have one,” he began. “My neighbors complained, so I sold it.”

“We should get you one,” she invited, smiling at him. “I’m sure not going to complain. I want you to feel like you are welcome, that your home is here, with me.”

“You don’t mind that I’m scared or don’t have…” he began, and she interrupted him, touching his cheek as he sat down beside her, stunned.

“I don’t mind – and if I did, then we would talk and figure it out because I really like being around you.”

“Blythe…” he began nervously.

“Yes?”

“I really like you, but I don’t know if it’s love. I mean, I want to make love to you worse than anything I’ve ever felt, but I feel like I need to be honest before we take another step. If we are talking about commitment, I want there to be no secrets or surprises.”

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