“In a week. Next Saturday.” Her lips brushed against my skin. Soft and sweet.
I huffed. A half-hearted, humorless laugh.
She hadn’t been wrong about the difficulty of seeing each other.
“What?” She tilted her head and stared at me.
“That’s the day after I leave for LA.”
Her fingers brushing against the base of my neck stilled. “When are you back?”
“Tuesday afternoon. What are you doing then?”
“I’ve got a recording session in the morning. Maybe we could have a late lunch? Or dinner?” The thought of spending two weeks without each other turned the needle of panic into a full cleaver to my heart. We’d just found our way back to each other. We’d both grown up so much, and now the things we’d always loved and dreamed about were keeping us apart.
“You’ll probably be tired, but we can try.” I brushed my lips against her forehead. “When do you leave for London?”
“November 3rd. It’s a Tuesday. Are you here the weekend before?” Her hope lit eyes stared into mine.
“I have an away game in Georgia.” I dropped my head back, cursing under my breath.
She perked up. “I could fly to Georgia.”
I brushed my fingers down her arm. “No significant others are allowed in the game hotel before we play.”
Her body sagged. “We’re going to see each other for all of five days in the next six weeks, aren’t we?”
“However long we get to see each other, I’ll take it. You’ve got a life and a career. So do I. There’s nothing we can do about it.”
Isn’t there? As quickly as the words shoved into my head, I pushed them away. I wasn’t going to be the guy she’d left behind in LA who was willing to throw it all away to follow her around because I couldn’t be without her. There was texting, phone calls, video chats, chartered flights if need be. We both had all of that at our disposal.
“We don’t even know what this is.”
“It’s us getting to know each other again. Figuring out if we even like each other.”
“At least part of you likes me a lot.” She laughed, releasing some of the pressure tightening the valve on what would come after she left my apartment in the morning.
“We’re both on the same page, but the jury might still be out on your end.”
She turned in the circle of my arms and straddled my lap. “Oh trust me. Every part of me is in full agreement.” Grinding against me, she smiled.
A hiss fell from my lips.
“Music to my ears.”
I sat up and held the back of her neck. My erection, no longer accepting being ignored, pressed against the rough denim and zipper combo, which did nothing to stifle the blood rushing to my dick.
I kissed her, putting everything into it. I wanted her to remember it as a searing, crazy-about-you, can’t-get-enough-of-you kind of kiss. The kind to spoil her for all other lips. All other men. All other love.
Our lives felt destined to intersect. Our timing had never been right. Our futures were speeding ahead in separate directions.
My heart was splintered when it came to her, but maybe a little heat and time could fill in those cracks, molding it into a new creation. Or the splinters would weaken and shatter, leaving me all alone once again.
22
Bay
We’d spent one full night together since SeptemberWeen. There had been a couple meet-ups in my hotel or his that made it feel like we were having an affair, rushing together, ripping off our clothes, and riding out a sweaty, can’t-catch-my-breath orgasm before someone banged on the door and we had to part.
But on Tuesday I’d get to see him again when his flight touched down. Monday’s schedule was light: only demo sessions, the fittings, test hair and makeup for the award shows in December, finishing the production on the songs I’d promised Spencer, and a photoshoot for my new album stood in the way to free up more hours to spend with him.
It turned out the timing for his trip had never been more perfect. Being in the same city and not seeing each other would’ve made it even harder to concentrate.
I’d watched his game over the weekend, which Philly had won, in between conference calls. If anyone had questions as to why all the TVs in the vicinity were tuned to the game, no one brought it up.
We’d had a few conference calls and interviews in the morning. Now, I was in the middle of my day of abdominal destruction, which meant I got a comfy robe, comfier socks, and all the candy I could stuff into my mouth to rest up for the brutal day Monday. That and a reenactment of The Shining in my super-sensible underwear.
Over the years, the week of my period had narrowed down to a few days, and then a couple of Armageddon-level ones, which sucked. Super sucked. But it gave me a consistent schedule of thirty-six hours of near-solitude and phone only activities and breathing room away from everyone when I didn’t feel guilty for not being on.
Sure, I could’ve gotten on the pill or the patch or anything else to make it stop, but I’d also be giving up the vegging in bed time without the guilt.
Greasy food and sugar-packed sweets meant my ass would be kicked on Wednesday when I emerged from my cardiac arrest food cocoon in time for a commercial shoot for a product I couldn’t even remember.
Didn’t people get sick of looking at me? I sure as hell did. But every person on set made their money, including me. Complaints weren’t what today was about. It was about solitude.
My phone buzzed in the blankets. Rummaging through the napkins and crinkly wrappers, I grabbed it.
D—Keyton.
“Hey, stranger.”
He laughed. The warm baritone of it sent shivers down my spine. I missed him. “It’s been less than twenty-four hours since we talked.”
Gah! Was I already the clingy non-girlfriend? Part of me didn’t care. I wasn’t going to hide how I felt about him, and I needed him to know how much I missed him. The other part was scared he’d find it all too overwhelming or worse, suffocating.
“But I’m always glad to talk to you, especially on these long trips.”
“Where are the guys?”
“They’re in their rooms. There’s nothing to do on game day except sitting and waiting. The bus will leave in a few minutes, and then we’ll have more sitting and waiting at the stadium.”
I rolled over on my bed, feeling like grounded high school me who hadn’t gotten to see him outside of school for weeks.
“How do you occupy your time?” I hugged the pillow with a hot water bottle balanced on top of it against my stomach.
“The Foundation has a lot of plans for next year for me to sign off on. Ernie keeps me on my toes with pitches, deals, and trade talks.”
“Trade talks?” My heart skipped a beat. We’d been looking at finishing the album here, so I could be closer to Keyton. Not that I wanted to go stage-five clinger on him after one night together, but him moving would make it even harder to see each other.
“Nothing for this season. Who knows from here on out?”
“Will you be in Philly next year? We’ve booked into the studio here to keep working on the album.” Maybe we could make real plans. Ones where we saw each other for days and weeks at a time instead of hours. I hated adding any pressure to what we were doing, but Holden made plans one to two years out, and I wanted to make time not just for him, but for my mom and friends. It was time I made the people who were important to me more of a priority.