Finding the Dream (For the Love of Music #1.5)

Finding the Dream

Mia Josephs

To anyone who has found love in unexpected ways.

I’m so excited, I can barely sit still!

- Sierra

What was I thinking?

- Donovan

One

Leaning into the turn on his old Honda motorcycle, Donovan pulled into the parking lot of his apartment complex. His friend Chuck, rested against Donovan’s VW van, his eyes closed in the rare Oregon sun.

Van rested his bike on the kickstand and slipped off his helmet, breathing in the warm fall air.

Chuck squinted at him, his nearly shaven head reflecting the light, and then he grinned. “You couldn’t be more ginger if you tried. I mean, you practically glow.”
He gestured around Donovan’s head.

Donovan scratched his helmet head with a smirk. “Girls like my red hair.” He
walked past his friend and toward the metal stairs to his apartment. “Also--you’re not British, saying ‘ginger’ just makes you sound like a wannabe.”

“Aren’t we pissy today?” Chuck laughed as he jogged up behind Donovan.

“I’m not
pissy
.” Donovan shoved his hand in his pocket in search of his key. “Well, maybe a little. Store’s been crazy with all the college students coming back into town.”

And Sierra arrived later that day. Donovan had done exactly nothing he’d promised her parents he’d do to get ready for her arrival. A month ago, he had a whole month to get his apartment in order--that month was now hours. And probably very few of them. On top of which, who even knew what Sierra’s brother’s room looked like. Donovan hadn’t opened the door since Hanson left for Africa three months ago.

“Where’s your car?” Donovan asked.

“Went home with Adrianne last night,” Chuck said.

Donovan shook his head with a smile.

“Spare me the lecture, I know I suck at being with her, but that’s why I’m in front of your apartment instead of still inside hers. Also, I figured you’d give me a ride back to the bar so I can pick up my car.”

“It’s only two miles away.” Donovan pulled out his key and cocked a brow as he looked at his friend. “You can walk.”

Donovan’s phone pinged in another reminder about a detail or notice he probably didn’t care about.
All the buzzing and beeps from his phone had been driving him crazy for days. At some point he’d need to actually look into what all the noises were trying to tell him.

“You gonna deal with that?” Chuck asked as Donovan’s phone sounded again.

Donovan pushed open the apartment door to reveal stacked dishes and cereal boxes on the worn, beige kitchen counter. Work over the past few weeks had been insane. Summer was prime business for an outdoors store, and with college coming back into session, it had been even busier. No wonder he rarely did anything outside of work—even when
all
he did was work, he was so tired that his kitchen ended up looking like a pigsty.

“Deal with what?” he asked as he kicked his boots underneath the small kitchen table and headed for the sink. “Because I can think of about twenty things I should be doing right now.” Even if he didn’t get to Hanson’s room to clear out his crap before Sierra arrived, he did have to do something about the kitchen and bathroom. The last thing he needed was her thinking he lived like this all the time.
He also had to get back to the store to look over applications for new hires. Too much. There was just too much to get done.

He laughed a little as he stared at the small kitchen. In high school he thought that by twenty-four, he’d be playing guitar for sold-out stadiums. The pang of loss was brief. Donovan had a good life, and he was saving every penny he could to make sure it stayed that way.

“Your phone, you pratt.”
Chuck pointed to Donovan’s ass, which had just beeped again. “Are you going to do something about that?”

Donovan snorted as he tossed his phone to Chuck who slipped onto a faded barstool at the counter.

“Seriously,” Donovan said. “Stop it with the UK slang. It doesn’t make you sound cooler. Trust me.”

“I’m on a
Luther
kick again.” Chuck waved dismissively. “It’ll pass.”

Chuck laughed as he tapped on Donovan’s phone. “Do you know you have like thirteen Facebook messages?”

“Facebook has messages?” Donovan asked.

Chuck sighed. “Want me to tell you who they’re from, or… What do you want me to do with them?”

“Whatever is fine.” Donovan had more important things to think about than who was trying to get a hold of him on Facebook.

“Hey, hey, hey…” Chuck sat up straighter. “Solomon’s Pub in West Portland wants you to do a gig. End of October.”

Donovan’s chest tightened. He couldn’t. He’d already tried running the store and playing gigs at the same time. It didn’t work. They lost money, had crap employees, and Hanson had to come home early from building schools in Uruguay to help bail them out. It wasn’t going to happen again. He swallowed before pulling in a breath to answer his friend.

“Solomon’s? Are you sure?” Donovan asked. “I barely play anymore, and they’re…”

“Big.” Chuck tapped on the phone a few times. “I’m so writing them back with your number and to say you’ll be there.”

“Hold up.” Donovan leaned across the counter. “I do have a store to run. Timing might be bad.” He already knew he was going to tell them no, but that wasn’t a conversation he wanted to have with Chuck—at least not in that moment.

“Wait.” Chuck stared. “Are you seriously thinking you might
not
do this? I mean, I get that the store is insane when Hanson’s out of town, but you cannot say no to this.”

A shot of pain or…regret…or something not good hit his chest, but he couldn’t afford to miss work for a gig that wouldn’t pay off in the end. Solomon’s Pub was a far cry from the kind of venue that would put him in front of sold out arenas, or even pay the bills the way that Great Outdoors did. “Leave it. I’ll check my messages and figure out what to say later.”

“But—”

“Can we leave it?” Donovan asked. “Please? And I take it back. Don’t check my messages, I’ll do it later.” He might have a few other gig offers. Donovan was a nobody, but in Oregon and Washington he could sometimes draw a crowd.
Sometimes.
Eventually the calls and requests would stop coming, and he wouldn’t have to deal with this shitty, torn feeling anymore.

“So. We should go back to the conversation where I tell you that you have to know how much your shop would benefit from you being online more, yeah?” Chuck asked. “Instead of the one where I tell you you’re an asshole for not playing music?”

“Yes, we are back to the online conversation, and now is when I tell you that an online presence is what employees are for.” He shifted his weight. “I hate the Internet.”

“Because you’re backwards. The Internet is full of good information and free masturbation material.”

Donovan laughed and threw the sponge at his friend. “
Seriously
Chuck? Are you twelve?”

“Not twelve,” he said as he hucked the sponge back toward Donovan. “But deadly serious.”

Donovan retrieved the sponge from the floor. Chuck could probably diffuse anybody’s bad mood.

“Holy shit.” Chuck’s eyes widened as he stared at Donovan’s phone.

“What?” he asked as he added more hot water to the sink.

“I just checked out her Facebook page. Sierra is
hot
.”

Donovan pointed the soapy dish scrubber at his friend. “No. Absolutely not. No. Sierra is totally off limits to you and...
everyone
else.”

“You’re not serious?” Chuck asked.

“Deadly.” Donovan threw his friend’s line back at him with a grin.

Chuck sighed wistfully at what must have been Sierra’s photo and Donovan internally cringed.

“She’s practically my sister,” Donovan said. “It’s like a…a…rule or something, isn’t it? No messing with your friends’ sisters.” No matter how much logic told him that Sierra was grown up, in his mind, she was still the dorky little kid who could cook every delicious thing under the sun. That’s it. And there was also the fact that Chuck didn’t have the best track record with women.
And
the fact that Sierra was far too innocent and sweet for someone like Chuck.

“A rule, huh?” Chuck stared at the phone and let out another long, dramatic sigh.

“I have no idea why I said yes to her taking her brother’s room for the semester. I don’t know her anymore. Not really.” And it was one thing to live as a teenager in a house with a mom and a daughter, but in his apartment? He wouldn’t be able to walk naked to the fridge in the middle of the night, or watch movies in his boxers. He might have to dig out his pajama pants.

“Just get used to having her around in steps, you know? Step one, get to know her again, step two, make sure you keep thinking of her as your little sister if that’s what’ll help you out… I don’t know. But seriously. You’re going to be living with a girl. Weird. Food. Weird crap in the bathroom. Steps.”

“Steps.” Donovan snorted. “Whatever.” But actually… Maybe there was something to the idea that he could slowly move into this new situation.

“You’re gonna love me.” Chuck suddenly grinned like a three-year-old getting ice cream. “I’ve downloaded the Facebook messenger app, and I’ve turned off all your beeps except for the text messages.”

Donovan stopped scrubbing. “Really? All of them?”

“It’s not hard, Van.” Chuck held up Donovan’s phone as if Donovan would actually watch and figure it out. “You go into settings, and then you touch the App that you want to get rid of the notifications on…”

Donovan didn’t even try to follow where Chuck pointed to his phone. Instead he grabbed a few more dishes to shove in the sink. “I need to make calls, and now I need to send texts because people like to text. That’s it.”

“What about email?” Chuck asked. “Do you really not even check your email?”

“It’s all work stuff anyway.” The hot water had scalded his hands, but at least the dishwasher was full, and the counters were reasonably clean. Much better.

“You’re worse than my gramps, Van. I swear.” Chuck snorted as he tapped a few more buttons on Donovan’s phone.

When Chuck finally finished with his phone, he’d probably end up with ten more versions of Angry Birds he didn’t want, and only Chuck knows what else.
The only reason he even had a Facebook account was for the store.

“You are gonna looooove meeee,” Chuck sang as he kept tapping.

Chuck was always a nice distraction, but it wasn’t like having Hanson around. And there’s no way Sierra would take her brother’s spot as a friend and sounding board. At that moment, she felt like something else on his “to do” list, and a big one.

The enthusiastic knocking meant Sierra had arrived.

After not seeing her face to face for nearly two years, nerves balled up in Donovan’s stomach. He pulled open the door half expecting a mane of frizzy brown hair on a slightly overweight thirteen or fourteen year old girl with a huge smile.
That was the age she’d been when he lived with her family, and she was stuck there in his mind.

He froze as he took in the woman standing in front of him.

Sierra was no longer chubby. And no longer had frizzy hair. And now that she was just a few feet away, he recalled pictures of her where she wasn’t too dissimilar from the woman standing in front of him, but in the flesh… In person she was still supposed to be the chubby, frizzy haired, loud girl.

Donovan’s jaw dropped as he stared and Sierra’s grin filled her face. “Van! I made it! See!” And then she leapt into his arms just like when they were kids. “All grown up!”

She held him tight and just like she’d always done, and always did with everybody; she didn’t let go until he hugged her back with the same force. Her breasts against his chest. Her abs against his abs. Her legs… Holy, shit. These weren’t things he was supposed to notice about his best friend’s sister. Ever. Sierra was practically
his
little sister. His body was having very un-sibling-like thoughts, and she’d only arrived fifteen seconds ago.

Donovan swallowed hard as he set her down with an odd weight in his gut and did his best “friend” smile. “You look great.”

“Yeah!” She ran her hands through her long, smooth hair, eyes widening even further. “Finally tamed the hair.”

Her exuberance helped him relax and take the breath he’d needed since opening the door. “Yeah. I see that.”

And then she grabbed her hips, swinging them from side to side, showing off her lean waist. “And maybe lost a bit here… Me growing up wouldn’t be a big deal if you came
home
once in a while. Or ever,
ever
visited my blog.”

“How do you know I’m not on your blog everyday?” he shot back with a smile.

Sierra rolled her eyes. “Because I
know
you.”

“Okay fine.” His gaze ran down the length of her body again. She wasn’t just thin, her tan legs were toned, and her arms muscular, and… He was also going to have to do everything in his power to keep her away from Chuck.

“Donovan!” Sierra’s father’s voice boomed through the apartment.