I beamed. “Jason, that’s amazing!” And then, almost as quickly as I said it, I realized what it actually meant. “Wait…you’ll be gone for over a year?”
He shrugged, looking at the fire. “Yeah. But I get a five-week break in between for the holidays. And the first leg of the tour is local.”
Local. He meant anywhere in America. Followed by what? Eight months where he’d be going to sleep when I was waking up? My heart sank, and I hid my frown behind my knees.
I’d been mentally prepared for four months. I figured if things were good between us when he left, we’d keep this going like we had when he was in Australia. I wasn’t looking forward to it, but it was doable. At worst the time difference would be three hours. Maybe I’d drive to see him when he was playing in California and Vegas or fly out to be with him for a few days every once in a while.
But this? This was different. This was very different. This was over a year. And eight months of it would be a ten-plus-hour international flight somewhere if I wanted to see him. Massive time differences coupled with grueling schedules. I’d read his itinerary—it was ridiculous. And he’d already told me how different this tour would be from the last one in terms of his workload. That he was headlining and that meant he’d be responsible for all the promoting and that his sets and rehearsals would be longer. He’d be doing meet and greets with fans and he’d be on and off planes.
My parents had done the long-distance thing for years when my dad worked overseas. Kristen did it with the guy she dated before Josh. I knew exactly what this looked like. It was a slow death of a relationship. A separation that eroded everything, little by little, until it was stripped clean and you were practically strangers, lonely and attached to someone invisible.
I’d been lonely and attached to someone invisible for two years. I wouldn’t do it again. I couldn’t do it again.
Not that Jason wanted me to do it. We’d only known each other two and a half weeks, so I didn’t in any way expect him to ask me to come with him—and even if he did, I wouldn’t. It was too soon. I just didn’t move that fast. I’d been with Brandon almost three years before I moved in with him. I’d been with Brandon a year before I even went on vacation with him.
Now I wondered if Jason had been preparing me for this over the last week. Every time he’d talked about the insane amount of work he’d be doing, was he setting me up to let me down gently when the time came? He had to know as well as I did that this would end us.
We went on listening to the haunting sound of the loons in the darkness. He didn’t further the discussion and I was glad. I didn’t want to have a breakup conversation around this campfire, and judging by his silence, he didn’t seem to want to have one either. He probably wanted to enjoy this time. So did I.
When Brandon died, I’d wished for one more day. Just one more day to be with him and be happy. And Jason and I still had days. If all I was going to get was now and the next few weeks, I wanted to savor it, even if I knew it was going to end.
A shooting star tore across the sky and I looked back over at him to find him looking at me. He had his hands clasped, his cheek resting on his knuckles.
“What are you thinking about?” I asked.
There was a pause before he replied. “You. I seem to be doing that a lot lately.” Another long silence. “What was Brandon like?”
“Brandon?” Jason had never asked about him before. I let out a long breath and put my cheek to my knees. “He was steady. Strong. He was the kind of person you could depend on. Loyal.” I smiled a little. “He would always serve himself last. If we were at a barbecue or a party, he’d wait until everyone else served themselves before he’d make his own plate. He always wanted to make sure there was enough for everyone else before he ever thought about himself.” My face went soft at the memory. “He was good like that. He was a good person.”
Jason gazed back at me. “What happened to the drunk driver?”
I scoffed. “Not enough. She got two years. She gets out in a few months. Never even said she was sorry.”
We looked at each other in the light of the campfire.
“Jason, I never told you this. Maybe you kind of figured. But you’re the only person I’ve dated since him. Like, the only one. It’s a big deal to me. You are a big deal to me.”
He didn’t say anything. He studied my face, the fire casting a warm glow that flickered in his eyes. I knew he understood what I was telling him. I hadn’t been with anyone in two years. In any capacity.
“You’re a big deal to me too,” he said finally, holding my gaze.
We stared at each other and an eternity passed in the seconds.
“Cold?” he asked. “Want to get in the tent? I’ll leave the rainfly off so we can still see the sky.”
I nodded.
Jason poured water over the fire and we stepped inside the tent and took off our shoes. He hung a lamp from the top pole and zipped the door closed. Then we silently stripped off our heavy layers.
Jason stopped at his T-shirt and the thermals he wore under his pants. He probably didn’t want to assume. But that’s not where I stopped.
I took everything off but my tank top and my underwear. I undressed without looking at him. If I looked, I might be too nervous to go through with it. But I could feel his eyes on my body as I stepped out of my pants and stood in the tent in the red G-string I’d worn. I’d worn it on purpose. I’d worn it for him.
Once I’d taken off everything I dared, I climbed quickly into the sleeping bag, my teeth chattering. The slick fabric was freezing. “Hurry, it’s so cold.” I shivered.
He followed suit and took off his T-shirt and thermals, turned off the light, and got into the sleeping bag in nothing but his boxers. He gathered me immediately under him, caging me between his forearms and legs like a human heating pad. “Better?” he asked, looking down on me in the dark.
I nodded, biting my lip. “Better.”
He was so warm. He smelled like soap and mint toothpaste and just a hint of smoke. I could feel the coarseness of the hair on his legs, rubbing against the naked smoothness of mine. The strong muscles of his thighs locking me in his firm embrace. His erection, growing harder with every breath he took, pressing into my stomach.
He caressed my cheek absently with his thumb. “You’re shaking,” he whispered, and gently, carefully, he kissed along my jaw, his beard scratching against my skin. I tipped my head back and he trailed his lips down, arching his body over mine as he worked his way to my collarbone.
He didn’t move against me. While I could feel he was turned on, it was like he wanted me to know everything was on my terms and he wouldn’t initiate anything unless I made it clear I wanted him to—it was very Jason of him.
He was always respectful of what I needed. I got the feeling that if I freaked out and told him to sleep outside, he would. He wouldn’t even question it. He’d just kiss me good night and go. Having that control made me feel safe with him, like tonight would be whatever I was ready for it to be and he was okay with that.
He had no idea how much it furthered his cause.
His fingers tunneled through my hair and worked it from its tie, releasing my braid. He combed his fingers through the strands until they fell loose and free around me. He hovered over me, kissing me softly until the shivering stopped.