***Lindsey's POV***
I leaned back in the chair in my makeshift studio, staring at the control boards as I halfway listened to the conversation behind me. My agent and publicist were over, along with Richard. Word of my accident had spread and we needed to go over a few things regarding the media and my upcoming projects.
They all spoke quickly and with intent, quickly making their way through the 12 beers they'd brought over as I lounged in my chair, sipping my coffee and thinking about the last week. Stevie was at work at the moment, and Lane at preschool, and I hated how empty my house felt without them. I'd quickly grown accustomed to their presence. Lane kept me on my proverbial toes, but he had such a warm little personality- I could see that part of Stevie shining through in him. She had done such a tremendous job with him. I smirked a little bit just thinking of his mannerisms. Though he without a doubt had my physical attributes he carried her excitement with him. I love to watch it. She and I had come to terms with one another for the most part as well. Though there was more than enough blame to go around we had placed that aside and made Lane the priority.
She'd made it more than clear when she came to stay with me that she wasn't looking for a romantic relationship. Still- there was something between us. It was undeniable.
I was pulled from my thoughts by the front door closing.
"Linds," I heard her call for me. "I'm back."
I swirled around in my chair, meeting the curious stares of my friends. I had fully intended for them to be gone by the time she was back. She was several hours early.
"Who is that," my publicist questioned.
"That's Stevie," I told him, deliberately watching Richard's reaction from my peripheral. "She's been staying here temporarily to help me," I motioned to my leg.
Richard raised an eyebrow at me while the others went back to what they were doing, likely assuming that she was some sort of nurse. I shot Richard a look stating that I'd explain later and attempted to get back to work. Before I had a chance however, the door opened and Lane scurried in without a word. He stared briefly at each of the men before climbing clumsily onto a chair next to mine at the sound board. He sat contently, quietly surveying the situation and swinging his legs from the chair as everyone stared at him, mouths agape. It was more than apparent that he was mine.
None of them knew what to say, Richard eventually piping up.
"Oh, You've gotta be kidding me, Buckingham," he said in a hushed tone, shaking his head. "All this time and you-"
I silenced him quickly. "Not now. We'll talk later."
I then immediately turned my attention to Lane, who was beginning to fidget. "How was your day, buddy," I asked him, pulling his rolling office chair towards me.
"Good," he stated with a smile, still swinging his legs. "I drawed you a picture at school."
"You did," I asked with excitement. "Can I see it?"
He nodded vigorously, hopping down and running to retrieve it.
I took the opportunity to dismiss my meeting, telling my manager and publicist, who were about to have kittens, that I'd call them later, and motioning everyone but Richard out the door.
Stevie stepped in. "OH, I'm sorry, I didn't realize you had company..." She trailed off, likely becoming shy and knowing that everyone had just made the connection with Lane.
The others scurried out. "Stevie, looking lovely as always," Richard remarked.
"Can I get you another beer," I offered to Richard, who gladly accepted. The two of us stepped onto the porch where I explained the situation in its entirety to Richard while Stevie made dinner and Lane played in the living room. Richard expressed his congratulation to me, turning the conversation to Stevie.
"What's going on with the two of you," he nodded towards her.
"It's complicated," I told him, rubbing the bridge of my nose.
This elicited a chuckle from my old friend. "When isn't it for the two of you? It's pretty obvious how you both feel though."
I shrugged my shoulders and sighed. "It's a delicate situation. I've let her know where I am and I can't say that I blame her for feeling the way that she does towards me. But with Lane involved we both have to be extra careful. You know how we get toward each other sometimes..."
Richard laughed. "Yes, I certainly do. Better than most."
He was one of the only people I could speak with openly about her. "I believe that fate has brought us here and we should be together, but we're not. I play it off, but I'm dreaming of her. And I'll keep my cool, but I'm fiendin'."
"Give her some time, Lindsey. You know how she is. And I'm sure she's had a rough couple years." He took a swig of his beer, sitting it back down on the outdoor table. "You look great, man. Really refreshed. She got you shaped right up didn't she?" Richard laughed, knowing that Stevie had always been what had kept me from unraveling completely in our early days.
"I just can't shake her. And frankly I don't want to. I try to say goodbye and I choke, try to walk away and I stumble. Though I try to hide it, it's clear- My world crumbles when you are not here."
The sound of Stevie opening the sliding glass door interrupted us. "Richard, will you join us for dinner?"
He declined, tossing away his beer and heading out as I followed him, shaking his hand and closing the door behind him.
"Daddy! Daddy will you play with me?" Lane was shouting and tugging on my arm the second Richard was out of sight.
"Of course, buddy," I smiled, making myself comfortable on the couch as Lane pulled a few toys over. We played trucks for a while until dinner was ready, Stevie calling us over to eat. I washed my hands quickly at the sink, Lane following me and mimicking my every move. He ate contently as I chatted with Stevie about her day, discussing minor events and feeling so perfectly at ease in her presence. I bargained with Lane on finishing his green beans and had him help his mother and I with clearing the table after dinner was finished. We proceeded with his bedtime routine, finally getting him off to sleep after a little more playing, a bath and a few bedtime stories. I kissed him goodnight and ruffled his curls, Stevie turning out the light and closing the door to his little room.
I flopped down on one end of the couch while Stevie curled up on the opposite side with her hot tea and journal. It was still how she decompressed at night. I watched her, knowing her process exactly. This was how she created- and I could only imagine what she'd come up with over the past few years. I'm sure it was amazing.
I knew better than to make a bold move and overwhelm her but I knew I had to do something to win her over. I had to lay the foundation while I had the opportunity.
"Join me on the balcony," I asked, unsure if she would even be open to that. "It's a nice night."
She stopped writing, and I could see her bite her lip hesitantly.
"Come on," I told her, getting slowly to my feet and extending my hand. "It's just me."
She smiled softly and somewhat to my surprise she took my hand and stood.
She gave me a gentle smile. "I'd love to."
