Total pages in book: 92
Estimated words: 88586 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 443(@200wpm)___ 354(@250wpm)___ 295(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 88586 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 443(@200wpm)___ 354(@250wpm)___ 295(@300wpm)
“You don’t have to compete with anyone, T.” I pushed the mug away and stood.
“It’s not a competition. It’s a calling. You’re fucking special, Dec. Fucking amazing. Your world begins now. You can’t wait around for me. It wouldn’t be right.” Tears welled at the corner of his eyes. “The idea of losing you is—”
“Jesus, T. You’re not gonna lose me. I’m here. I’m not going anywhere.”
“You will go,” he said softly. “This is your shot, baby. I don’t want the roller coaster and the limelight focused on me and you. It should be for you alone. It’s the music that matters. And I don’t want to hold you back.”
I opened my mouth till it was dry as dust and the coffee I’d had turned like acid in my stomach. “You don’t trust me.”
“No, that’s not it.”
“It is. You don’t want to take a chance, ’cause you think we won’t make it.” My tone was kinder than my words. I guess that made sense. I wasn’t angry. I was…paralyzed. “You don’t trust us.”
“It’s not a matter of trust, Dec. It’s a matter of growing. If you stay with me, I’ll hold you back. They’ll focus on us…not your music. I can’t do that to you.”
“What are you saying?” I choked over the lump in my throat.
“I want us to be…friends. Like we always were.” He closed his eyes briefly.
Friends.
I glanced out the window at the row of lemon trees in the backyard. I swiped my clammy palms on my borrowed PJs, hating that my voice shook when I spoke.
“I don’t want to be your friend anymore. I want it all.”
“Dec…”
Silence.
“I’m not saying this to fuck with your head or upset you. It’s been a fucked-up few days. I get it. Our cover is blown. We can’t hide anymore. We have to make decisions…and you’re scared.”
“Maybe,” he admitted.
“I am too. But isn’t it scarier not to try? You’re mine. Finally. I spent years wishing I could find a way to win you back. I didn’t care if we were lovers. I just wanted my friend. But you’re so much more than that to me.”
He nodded. “The best of friends.”
“More. Much more. You’re my peace, my quiet, my other half, and—I fucking love you, Tegan.”
His eyes had a tormented look that didn’t go well with my declaration.
“Baby, I…”
My voice trembled, and my eyes welled ominously. If I wasn’t careful, I’d lose my shit. This already wasn’t going well.
“It’s okay. Don’t say anything. I’m probably complicating things for you. I want to apologize for that, but I can’t. After all this time, you should know how I feel. You are my heart, T. That might sound cheesy as hell, but it’s true. Wherever you are is where I’m supposed to be. I can’t make you want me, but I’ll always love you.”
My legs shook when I stood. Everything shook. My lips, my hands, my heart. I’d never been here before. I wasn’t sure what to do. But I couldn’t ask for what he couldn’t give. No matter how much it hurt.
My brain buzzed with an unsettling medley of “things I should have done differently” on my ride home from Long Beach. Starting from age twelve to now. I should have kept in better contact with him after I moved and especially after that kiss. I shouldn’t have let him push me away when we were twenty-one. I should have cleared the air after the Gypsy Coma fiasco instead of punishing us both. I wasted time I’d never get it back. And now…I might have lost him for real.
And on that depressing thought, I thanked my driver, made a beeline for my motorcycle, and headed to the studio.
The parking lot was empty. Thank fuck. Although it wasn’t a big surprise. The Sunday after the final show of a killer tour was a good day to sleep in.
I went through the side entrance, relocked the door behind me, then paused a half a second to stare at the wall. Our wall. I moved on before a rogue wave of déjà vu pulled me under.
A couple of hours later, I was in my happy place. Or at least halfway there. I played guitar till my fingers ached and my neck hurt from bending over the strings. I tried a few new hooks and wrote random lyrics on a notepad. I didn’t try to make sense of the words. I could do that later. I could—
“Hey.”
I narrowed my eyes. “What are you doing here?”
Justin leaned on the doorjamb and cocked his head. “We were driving by and I saw your bike outside. Gray’s upstairs with the dog. Chester’s running circles all over the office. Can I come in?”
“Sure.”
Justin moved like a panther. He was sleek and sinewy, even when he wasn’t performing.
“So…about yesterday. I’m sorry,” he said. “For what it’s worth, it’s cool by me. You and Tegan fit. It’s kind of a sweet story, actually. Next door neighbors in rival rock bands turned lovers. It’s not like you need my blessing, and I know it’s not my business, but…I approve and I’m sorry I was a dick about it. I worry about Tegan. He’s got this big mushy heart and—”