Julia's Journey (A Coming Home Again Novel Book 2) (17 page)

“You ladies take all that you want. We are about to close up
shop.” She motions towards the small stack of items.

The teenage girl starts going through all of Julia’s. She’s
so excited, but then I see her face fall some just as I’ve seen the others do
all morning.

Her mother shakes her head. “Sweetheart, there’s none your
size.”

“I can drop a good ten pounds,
then
they will fit.” She looks determined.
Poor girl.

“You’re already starving yourself as it is,” the mother says
with concern.

The teenager holds up the tiny pair of jeans. “But these are
Julia Rose
pants.”

I glance in Julia’s direction and see her getting fidgety.
She sprints into the RV. Before I can go check on her, she’s hurrying back out
with a pair of her new pants.

“Here. Take these.” She hands them over to the girl.
“They’re my favorite. We’re actually the same size now. Isn’t that cool?” Julia
nods her head to encourage the girl and the girl nods in agreement. “Size
double zero is way too small.”

She talks the girl into the pants and we both sign a
magazine she brought along with Julia on the cover. They leave happily with
Julia’s brand new pants.

I turn around and follow Julia inside. She sits down in a
chair, looking dejected. “What were we thinking?” she mutters. “Those sizes
aren’t normal.”

I kneel before her and rest my hands on her knees. “I know.”
I tap her knee to get her attention. “I’m proud of you.” She just stares back
at me wordlessly so I get up and head back outside.

I pile all of the unusual-sized clothes by the fire pit for
later tonight and pull the picnic table back in its designated spot. Once I’m
done with that, I sit and ponder the morning. I think Julia was served a big
dose of reality earlier and want to give her time to digest it. I’m so proud of
her for encouraging that girl. She’s knows her words hold power and she used
them well today. I sit and pray, thanking God for this unexpected journey He is
allowing me to take with this woman. I ask Him to heal her as He has healed me.
Have mercy on her,
Lord
, for she is faint;
heal her,
Lord
, for her bones are in agony.

I leave Julia alone all day, but once the sun has set and
the sky begins to darken, I pull her outside. “I’ve thought of the perfect
thing to do with these clothes.”

“Yeah?” she inquires.

Producing a match from my pocket, I swipe across the rock
side of the fire pit, and toss it onto the logs that I have already doused
generously with lighter fluid. It goes up in a huge flame dramatically as I had
hoped it would. This makes her giggle, and that makes me happy.

I throw in a pair of my shorts and the flames lick them up
in a flash. “Take that cancer!”

Julia gets in the spirit of things fast and tosses in a pair
of jeans. “Take
that
paparazzi!”

I add more and yell victoriously, “Take that modeling
world!”

“Take that Sawyer Helms!” Julia shouts as she adds a shirt.

“Take
that crappy chemo side effects
!”
I yell as I throw in another shirt.

“Take
that nightmares
!” she shouts while
throwing some more in.

We do this until we are both hoarse from yelling and have
burned away all of the clothes right along with the hurts that have been eating
at us. We sit and gaze at the fire long afterwards. It’s like a weight has been
lifted. Slowly, I feel many little facets healing for the both of us as well as
between us. It’s comforting and scary all the same.

Chapter
Twenty-Two

Julia

Things are changing fast. I’m changing. Greyson is changing.
Our friendship is changing. And it scares me. The shopping trip was over a week
ago, and I’m still not over it. The way he touched me in that dressing room and
the way it made me feel. I’ve never felt that way. Sure, I’ve had more men than
I care to confess all over me, indulging their wants—always leaving me feeling
used up and hollow. But Greyson’s touch was different. It felt like he was
sharing a whole new world with me. It felt right. He only kissed my neck and
ran his hands up my sides, but wow. Just wow. He left me wanting more of that
feeling and that sucker hasn’t touched me in that intimate way since. And it’s
driving me crazy.

I couldn’t sleep last night from thinking about it all—over
and over again. This road trip isn’t going to last forever. Only a few short
months to go and it will be over. That thought absolutely devastates me.
Greyson Stone has become my sun, whether either one of us wanted it or not.
Surely, I will live in complete darkness without him, and that’s nowhere near
appealing.

Never have I felt so protected and respected. When he openly
prays and thanks God for me, it’s like my heart falls all apart and then comes
back together more whole than before. I feel my heart reshaping, but there’s
something still missing. It’s a longing I can’t quite put my finger on. So last
night I stayed up late, pouring back over my journal and the scriptures Greyson
has been giving me. I feel like they are clues to something bigger.

The last time I looked at the clock last night it was past
three in the morning, so all I want to do is sleep the day away. But my
companion isn’t going to allow that. He’s already sitting in my bed, scrolling
through some music playlist on his phone. I’m annoyed at first, but the music
is really good—some of my favorites. And that’s when it hits me!
Bleu
Streak! My eyes pop open and look over at Greyson. He
has that beautiful grin in place and is showing off those perfect teeth.

I hop up and start jumping on the bed. “
Bleu
Streak! Yeah baby!” I launch into his arms and wrap mine around his neck.
“Please tell me you found me a ticket, too.”

“Of course,” he says, still grinning. He pats my hips and
looks smug. “Cost me a pretty penny though, but my girl is more than worth it.”

I think I swoon a bit. Can you blame me?
“As
long as you think so.”

“Know so. Now we’ve got to get a move on. You’ve already
slept most of the day away.” He pats my hip again and eases me out of his lap.

I look over at the clock and am floored to find it stating
that it is a little after two in the afternoon.

“Rough night?”
Greyson asks as he moves over to the coffee pot.

“Yeah.
I couldn’t get my mind to shut off.” I sit on the edge of
the bed and gladly accept the cup of coffee he hands me.

He sits back down beside me. “You want to talk about it?” He
runs his hand through my knotty hair and tilts his head to listen.

I look away and focus on the cup in my hands. “Not just
yet.”

Greyson releases my hair and stands. “Let me know when you
are ready,” he offers as he heads out the door, leaving me alone with my
freshly brewed coffee and nagging thoughts. I finish the coffee and brush my
concerns and confusion away so I can focus on the treat of Bleu Streak. I grab
up Greyson’s phone and plug it into the RV sound system, turning it way up so I
can rock out to my favorite band while I shower and dress.

Greyson lets me ride on his moped. He’s concerned the arena
parking will be crazy and doesn’t want us to get separated. He thinks ahead on
everything. I, on the other hand, do not. I’m so glad he does because I would
have totally freaked if I had to drive a scooter through downtown Atlanta to a
packed-out
Bleu Streak concert.

Greyson gets us right up front in the arena, and I’m
tingling all over with anticipation. Eight on the dot, the house lights dim and
the stage lights start coming to life—first on just the drummer and he sets the
beat for the song, then the guy on bass. I can feel the anticipation building
and can hardly contain myself. This continues until everyone in the band has
made a musical introduction but the lead singer and hotter than all get out
Dillon Bleu. We hear him begin to sing before seeing him. I’m looking around
frantically for a glimpse of that gorgeous singer when he brushes right past,
giving me a sly
wink
before jumping onto the stage. He’s
wearing a hoodie that is masking his face and no one even realized he had
slipped into the front row until it was too late to attack him. Oh My! What a
way to start a show! I’m squealing like a school girl but don’t care. Greyson
doesn’t seem to care, either. He keeps whistling and shouting out. We are both
having a blast and it’s just the first song!

Dillon pulls his hoodie down, and he is quite a sexy sight.
His short, black unruly hair is tinged a deep blue all over. That man knows how
to rock hair color and tattoos for sure. Okay, so I admit I have a Dillon Bleu
poster tucked into my closet back at my apartment.

The song closes and the crowd goes wild. Once they calm
down, he speaks a simple, “Hello, Atlanta.”

I lean into Greyson for feeling faint at that velvety deep
voice.

Dillon nods his head towards his lead guitarist and his
keyboard player. “Yeah, so these idiots will never learn. They thought they
would give me a new hairdo.” He runs his hand through his black hair with blue
hints and girls scream out all over the arena. Dillon gives the guys a pointed
look before murmuring into his microphone.
“Looks to me, the
jokes on them.”

And he’s right because Max King and Trace Leigh both have
nearly neon orange hair. The band is known for their pranks. The crowd laughs
and claps. Some yell out for
Mave
, the drummer, to
take his hat off. He’s normally known to be right in the middle of the pranks.
Grinning, he takes his hat off and flings it into the crowd—revealing a thick,
short mop of chestnut-brown hair. He smirks towards his identical twin brother
that looks nothing like him at the moment and then over to Trace. He gives the
drums a
ba
-
dum
-da-
dum
beat, causing everyone to laugh. Logan pipes in with a
few chords from his guitar. He’s one hot Lenny-
Kravitz
-looking
man. He has his signature shades on and is grinning over at the drummer as if
they are sharing some inside joke. Knowing these guys, they probably are. I
follow them all on social media and they are just so yummy. And that
Mave
, oh my, he has gotten yummier in the past year. I saw
an ad campaign he posed for, some kind of protein shake, and that stuff has
most definitely done that body good.

Glancing over to Greyson, I wonder if he uses the same
protein product, because it has obviously done him good, too. It’s not gotten
past me that a large group of females have managed to surround him. He’s polite
as ever—granting them a kind smile, but it thrills me to no end that he keeps
scooting closer to me. His hand hasn’t left my body one time—either on my
shoulder, placed on my back, or holding tight to my hand.

Dillon brings the microphone back to that lovely mouth of
his and says, “
Mave
and Logan finally got wise. You
can’t get one over on the master.” Dillon motions towards himself causing
whistles and shouts to break out in approval.

Dillon places the microphone into the stand and pulls the
hoodie off over his head—revealing a tight-fitting black T-shirt underneath
that shows off the ink on his arms. He tosses the hoodie in the crowd. Greyson
holds his hand out and easily catches it. He’s so tall that it really wasn’t a
struggle to snatch it. He leans over and ties it securely around my waist. It’s
so big that I look like I’m wearing a skirt. I don’t care! I have a Dillon Bleu
hoodie! I just don’t know how much more of this I can take! The girls scream
and whistle with me joining in.

Dillon straps on his signature blue guitar and starts
strumming a few chords. I can barely contain myself. He leans towards the mic.
“Enough talk. Who wants to hear another song?”

The crowd goes wild when Dillon launches into their hit
song, “My Jewel.” Several songs follow and I’m washed down in sweat from
dancing around and rocking out. Greyson joins in with abandon as he does with
anything. He enjoys things to the fullest and gives no thought to how people
perceive him. I’m starting to crave that freedom as well. I just want to be me.
Tonight I try it his way and find I am having the best time of my life. His
hair is damp and curling from sweat as well and his face is just glowing. My
heart squeezes as I look him over. The man is so full of life.

Halfway through the concert, stagehands haul out another set
of drums and place them beside
Mave’s
. A teenage boy
strolls out on stage and looks like an identical replica of Dillon Bleu minus
the tattoos and blue hair. Mini Dillon goes straight over to the drums and
launches into beating them to life.
Mave
joins in and
then the rest of the band as Dillon croons out the lyrics. Oh, how I could just
listen to this man sing for the rest of my days.

The song continues with the two drummers taking turns at
showing off their mad skills. At one point, they reach over and beat on each
other’s sets before twirling the drumsticks in the air and catching the others.
Without missing a beat, they go right back to playing with the crowd going even
wilder. It’s quite a choreographed show and I am just beside myself!

After the song concludes, Dillon walks over to the young
drummer and gives him a fist pump. “This good-looking dude is my son, Will.” He
pauses as the crowd cheers. “Will is
Mave’s
protégé.
How ’bout another song?”

The crowd begs for more and boy do they ever deliver. Later,
Dillon sings
an a
cappella version of Eddie
Vedder’s
song, “Hard Sun” to close out the show. It is so
moving when we watch him ease to the edge of the stage and pulls his wife right
in front of us to serenade her. She’s such a petite little thing, and he towers
over her protectively. He sings about being a better man when she walks beside
him, and I think that is the sweetest thing. And how that sexy man looks at
her… It’s reverent.

I ease my gaze over to Greyson and warmth spreads through
me, because I know I’m a better woman when I walk beside this man. I watch as
he lifts those graceful hands to his mouth and summons an earsplitting whistle.

When the song concludes, Dillon murmurs an introduction in
that deep, velvety voice, “Ladies and dudes, my Jewel.” Then, he commences to
kissing her thoroughly right there on stage. Wow…

We leave later, on such a euphoric high and with ringing
ears. After we get back to the RV, we both just drop into our outdoor chairs
and grin into the night. The campground is so silent, aside from the crickets
chirping, that it almost seems eerie after being in such a lively arena all
night. I’ve wrapped myself in Dillon’s hoodie and keep sniffing the clean
woodsy smell of him. I have no idea what cologne it is, but I tell Greyson I
want him to find out and start bathing in it. He just chuckles at my comment as
he continues to study the stars.

“That was awesome.
Just freaking awesome!”
I say hoarsely. I’ve just about lost my voice tonight.

“Yeah.
Those guys are epic.”

“Dillon Bleu is some kind of yummy,” I comment after a
stretch of silence. Greyson just rolls his eyes at this. “I sure wish I could
be his jewel.” I sigh dramatically.

“Well, you’re not.
Sorry, babe.”

“Do you think he really loves that woman as much as he
claims or do you think it’s for entertainment purposes?”

“It feels pretty real to me. He may be singing those songs
in front of us, but I have no doubt that the dude is not singing them
to
us. That’s for sure.” He glances over
at me once he grows quiet.

We just stare in silence for a while, but I eventually look
away first. “It must be something to be loved like that,” I whisper.

“The world loves you.”

“No. The world loves Julia Rose—the façade.
Not Julia
Thorton
—the ordinary country
girl.”
The world has no clue as to who I really am. It’s sad.

Greyson reaches over and takes my hand. “I think I know the
real you, and there’s nothing ordinary about my prissy country girl.” He pulls
my hand to his mouth and kisses it, causing my entire arm to light up in
tingles. “You are loved, Julia
Thorton
.” He releases my hand and heads inside, leaving me alone
as he always does to think about the words he gives over to me.

I sit for a good while longer, stunned—staring off into the
clear night sky until his words sink in completely and cause me to cry. Greyson
Stone just admitted to me he loves me.
Maybe not in love, but
love.
And for some reason that means more to me in this moment. His love
is so foreign, and I want to understand it. It goes deeper than the outer
shallow love or lust. I’m beginning to see that his kind of love can’t be a
man-love. I think God has a lot to do with it, and it’s confusing. I really
want to understand.