“I’d love to have you close by next season.” He sighed, his voice deflated. “There was some chatter, but it’s died out now. Seems like our record this year has knocked the shine off my lucky charm status. Maybe I’ll have a lot more time to spend with you after this season.”
A clash of emotions hit me like a tide. The excitement of seeing him more was shattered by what it would mean for him. As much as I wanted him to be close, playing meant a lot to him. “On your terms.”
He let out a long low breath. “We’ll see. What are you up to tonight?” His voice bounced back.
“In my bed, watching TV and snacking. About to take a nap.”
“It’s about time Holden gave you a break. I swear, I don’t know how you even have time to sleep sometimes.”
I opened my mouth to correct him before snapping it shut. “I’ll sleep soundly tonight after getting to talk to you.”
“Would it freak you out if I told you I missed you?” There was a hint of tentative teasing to his words.
I wished I could be there with him now. He was an inescapable undercurrent rippling out through my life. No matter what was going on, who I was meeting, or where I was singing, I wanted to know I’d have the comfort of his arms to return to. It was too fast, insanely fast to have jumped straight back on the Keyton train.
“No, it wouldn’t freak me out at all. Would it weird you out if I told you I’d stolen your scarf from the last time I saw you?” It had been a week ago in Memphis—or was it Houston? A precious four-hour window before our flights took off in opposite directions again.
Quirky would be a kind way to put it, but I loved to wrap his scarf around my neck when we left the hotel. It smelled like him, worked to hide my face if any photographers were out taking pictures, and helped calm me when everything felt overwhelming.
After only a matter of hours I’d become addicted to how he made me feel. But that wasn’t true—he’d been sewn into the fabric of my being since I was eighteen years old. Falling back into love with him felt inevitable, like the sands of time had been waiting for their opening to shift and bring us back together. At least that’s what I’d been telling myself. I could only hope the circus of my life didn’t change how he felt about me.
He laughed, a full-on belly laugh that set the phone vibrating against my ear, sending flutters shooting through my stomach. “I wondered where the hell it went. And no, it wouldn’t weird me out.”
We talked late into the night and I woke up after midnight with the phone plastered to the side of my face and the gentle rhythm of his breathing comforting me. I loved him so much it hurt. Being away from him was like being dragged underwater and flailing for the surface. Seeing him again felt like I’d finally been able to surface and gulp down fresh, clean air. And now that I’d had my first lungful in forever, I couldn’t go back.
The shoot stretched on. Extra lights were being set up because we’d lost the afternoon sun. Outside, it could be seven p.m. or midnight. I’d lost all sense of time. I kept nodding off and expecting someone to snap smelling salts under my nose to get me camera ready.
Spencer had loved the tracks I’d sent over, so the silver lining was a bit wider today. His freaking-out excitement was contagious and I couldn’t wait to hear him perform the songs.
A team had transformed the industrial loft into a winter landscape. At least they hadn’t tried to do it outside.
Keyton: Are you still doing your photoshoot?
Bay: Unfortunately
Keyton: No way out of it
Bay: Maybe if I gnawed my own leg off.
Keyton: Not happening. I love those legs. Especially when you wrap them around my waist trying to rush me to get inside of you
Bay: No fair! You’re not allowed to get me hot and bothered when I’m in a room of twenty other people
Keyton: It’ll keep your mind off things
Bay: More like it’ll keep my mind on things…
I glanced around, holding my phone close to my chest, grinning like I had a secret. And I did. His name was Keyton and I missed him.
Keyton: And made you smile. That was my goal. I miss you
The wardrobe person came over with a new pair of heels.
For a total of five seconds, I had sweet relief. My toes rejoicing was cut off when the new pair were slipped on, pinching my already throbbing baby toe. At least I wouldn’t have to stand for more than a couple minutes at a time.
I stared at the phone, longing squeezing my heart tight. We hadn’t seen each other outside of video calls in two weeks.
Bay: I miss you too
Holden stomped across the studio space to shout at a couple label guys. They were wringing everything out of me they could for their last album before we renegotiated. Going into a new round exhausted me and we hadn’t even started. Holden and Maddy took the reins, but everyone looked to me for the final word. All eyes were on me with their futures on the line based on my thumbs up or down.
He marched back over to me with a bottle of water and a bowl of mixed nuts. “We were supposed to be finished three hours ago.” He glared over his shoulder. “They’re taking the piss at this point.”
“You must be super angry to let your British-isms slip in.” I pinched my lips together, failing miserably at keeping my smile under wraps.
“I can take these nuts back.” He jerked the bowl back.
I scrambled forward and snatched the bowl. A few almonds spilled over the rim and fell into the mountain of fabric around me, lost in a sea of chiffon.
“Is this outfit thirty? I lost track when Emily and I had to call Berlin about the additional shows.”
Drawing the horrified looks of the makeup artists and wardrobe assistants, I tossed the unsalted nut up into the air and caught it. “It’s outfit number twenty-two, hairstyle number ten, and makeup look number twelve. The top five layers of my skin are gone.” And it stung like I’d been out surfing and forgotten the sunscreen.
“I promise we’ll have you out of here in the next half hour.” His jaw was set and he meant business, but he was distracted. More distracted than I’d ever seen him. Every question was evaded, every prod shut down. every invitation to share turned around and refocused on me.
“Wasn’t that what you said two hours ago? What the hell is going on?”
He ducked his head. “They’re calling in some contract-level terms right now when it comes to this album. I know it sucks, I’m sorry. I’ll do whatever I can to end this torture as soon as possible. We’ve been beyond accommodating and technically we’ve satisfied the terms—”
We were all working hard, and he was stressed as it was. I could sit around in pretty clothes and try to look interesting for a while longer. “It’s fine. Everyone here is getting paid overtime at least.”
A smile cracked the stony glare he cast over his shoulder. His phone buzzed. Glancing down, his frown deepened. “I’m taking this call then we’re out of here.” He hustled out of the room and the photographer turned back to me.
Holding a clear crystal tiger in my outstretched palm shouldn’t be painful. It weighed maybe half a pound? A pound max. But my fingers were numb.
Holden hadn’t returned, although it had to be way over the half hour mark.