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Chapter Twenty One - As Long As You're Here with Me

Raising my glass, I sing a toast to the midnight sky
I wonder why
The stars don't seem to guide me

"That is a horrible shirt."

"Are you serious?"

"Maybe you should have kept the burnt one on."

I looked down. It had been years, years since I had worn my bright pink 'Some Acid and Jazz' t-shirt. It was one of those things that I wore on a photo shoot and someone had just told me to keep. And besides, it was one of the few t-shirts I owned that didn't have holes under the pits.

"This is cool," I argued.

"In what decade?" Rosie shot back.

"Obviously the decade in which I was alive and you weren't even a thought yet," I retorted.

She laughed. "Touche."

I had dug up a blanket and we were laying on our backs on the deck of the boat, staring up at the sky. For the first night in what seemed like forever, the cloud cover was heavy enough to block out every single star in the sky. I could practically smell the rain brewing.

Rosie had found my Sirius radio and it was on, primarily for background noise. We had been having little bursts of conversations like the one over my shirt for at least the past hour. I rolled over on my side and studied her profile.

"So, Miss Twenty Questions," I said lightly. "What's the biggest age difference between you and one of your old boyfriends?"

Rosie's eyes darted to me, but just as quickly she returned to her astute study of the sky. "I don't know," she said. "Age is just a number."

"Yeah, but it's a number that can be used to do math problems to give me an answer," I prodded. I slid my hand along the blanket and ran it along her side. She inhaled quickly.

"Maybe two or three years," she said.

"Were you ever deeply, madly in love?"

I waited for a long-winded answer, but instead she rolled over to face me, bringing her knee up between us and resting her splint on her hip.

"No."

I looked at her in surprise. "No? Just like that, you can honestly just say no?"

"Yes, I can just say no," she said seriously. "I know what love is; what you and your wife had was true love. I've never hurt that bad when a relationship didn't work out and that to me means it wasn't love."

"Is that why you're here?" I asked. Rosie frowned.

"I don't understand what you mean."

"Did you hide away on my boat to get out and see more of the world in order to fall in love?"

Her lips curved into a smile. "The truth?"

I nodded. "The truth."

She bit her lip for a second, kneading it with her front teeth. Before she answered, she rolled back and sat up, her hair falling over her shoulders. I sat up beside her. She slapped her knee with her good hand and looked back at me.

"I think I'm a victim of love at first sight."

"Love at firs--"

"There's something about you. The moment I knelt down after pouring all that coffee in your lap and looked into your eyes, I just...I just knew."

"Knew?"

She broke into a grin. "That I could easily love you."

I was speechless. My mouth opened, but nothing came out. Rosie didn't seem to notice; she had begun to ramble and she just carried on.

"The hard part was...well is finding out if you could love me back. I mean, when I found out about your wife I knew that it wasn't that you just didn't like me. And knowing that we've both had such big losses just drew me even closer to you. That's why I snuck on your boat. I spent that entire evening after you dropped me off thinking about spending the rest of my life stuck in my same boring routine and I just couldn't do it. I need you as much as you need me."

"Rosie..." I said slowly. I stared up at the sky, but I knew even if the stars were out that they wouldn't be giving me the response I needed for what she had just said.

"Yes?"

"This could end really badly," I said on an exhale. "I'm trying, but I'm still like the walking wounded."

"Better walking wounded than walking dead. I don't dig zombies."

"I'm serious."

"So am I. Zombies have even worse hygiene issues than you."

It couldn't be helped. She was sitting there looking so serious and hopeful. I wrapped my arms around her, planted my face in her shoulder, and laughed. I felt her good hand slide into my hair. After my laughter died down, I turned my face, keeping my cheek on her shoulder and enjoying the feel of her nails against my scalp.

"What do you do for a living?" she asked, breaking the comfortable silence.

I slowly pulled away from her. "I sing."

She looked surprised. "You sing?"

I thought back to when I had first told her my name. At first, I thought she might have been playing innocent at not recognizing me. It seemed like I had lived forever in a bubble where everyone knew me. But I could see Rosie's sincerity: she had no frickin' clue who I was.

For a half a second, I thought about not telling her anymore. It was refreshing to just be Nick, and not only just Nick, but a really screwed up, pathetic version at that. But, she had been nothing but honest with me so far, and I felt like she deserved the same.

"Have you ever heard of the Backstreet Boys?"

"I think they were around when I was like eight...or nine. I don't know anything about them and--" she stopped.

Rosie's mouth opened. Then closed. Then opened. This happened several times before she continued speaking.

"You're not going to tell me you're one of them and that you're rich and famous, right? Because you bought generic store marshmallows. And the one pair of socks I've seen you wear has a hole exposing your entire heel. And--"

I'd be lying if I said I wasn't amused. I grinned as I interrupted her. "I'm rich. I'm famous. But I'm normal."

"Normal," Rosie repeated.

"Abnormal in a normal sort of way," I corrected.

She gawked at me. "You're serious about this."

"I can...I can prove it," I said, before seriously thinking it through. My anxiety rose ten-fold. Besides what I had to do for shows, I didn't sing for enjoyment anymore. My guitars were locked up in a storage facility back in Cali. I--

"Okay," Rosie said. "Prove it."

I leaned over and turned the radio off just as the clock on the display flipped to midnight. I cleared my throat and sat back. I could feel her eyes on me; I could sense a high level of doubt. I swallowed, letting my throat moisten from the saliva.

Then I just let it go. Old school. Acapella.

Although loneliness has always been a friend of mine
I'm leavin' my life in your hands
People say I'm crazy and that I am blind
Risking it all in a glance
And how you got me blind is still a mystery
I can't get you out of my head
Don't care what is written in your history
As long as you're here with me

Once I started, I didn't stop. I didn't stop until the entire song had poured out of me. I held the last note for an eternity before I finally risked looking at Rosie for her reaction.

"Well?" I asked. "Do you belie---?"

It was the typical reaction I got when I used to use my power of serenade to attract the ladies, but still it had been so long it kind of knocked me for a loop. She was in my lap before I had even finished my question, kissing me hungrily. She pulled away only once, just long enough to whisper four little words that did way more than just imply what she wanted. Unconsciously, it had been what I had been wanting all day as well.

"Take me to bed."