“Oh, honey, don’t cry.” Allie wraps her arm around my shoulders and pulls me into her side. “Maybe it’s a mistake. It’s not as if the media gets things right all the time, you could still text him. See what he says.”
I shake my head vehemently. “No way. Even if the headlines are exaggerated, look at the photos. I can’t reach out to him now. It’s been a month. He hasn’t tried to call me, and now we know why.”
Allie’s quiet for a minute. “I’m only going to say one more thing, then we can move on and finish getting drunk on cheap wine and Chinese food. Maybe you shouldn’t believe everything you read online. The way he looked at you at the concert, that wasn’t a man who only wanted a night of hot sex.”
I nod and drink my wine, thinking about what she said. Maybe she’s right and the media is blowing the Nash-Sierra thing out of proportion. But I still don’t know if I can take the risk of rejection, especially after all this time.
We spend the evening eating, drinking, and catching up on stupid reality shows. Eventually things hit the point where we’re throwing popcorn at the TV screen every time someone says something stupid. When the show finishes, there are two empty wine bottles and there is no way Allie can drive home, so she decides to sleep over. I go to the linen closet to pull out sheets and a pillow for her to use on the couch.
My phone starts to vibrate on the coffee table right as I drop everything down on the couch. When I look to see who is calling this late at night, my mouth drops open.
“Oh my God. Allie. He’s calling me.” I hit decline and immediately regret it. “I can’t talk to him. Can I? Wait. Why is he calling me now?” My best friend has an incredibly guilty look on her face, and I narrow my eyes at her. “What did you do?”
“What needed to be done,” she says, blinking her eyes at me somberly.
I look down at my phone and check my text messages. Sure enough, the most recent message was sent to Nash. She must have sent it while I was getting sheets, the sneaky woman.
EMMA: I miss you. I should never have left that morning. Can we talk?
“What the fuck, Allie,” I cry, smacking her in the arm. My phone starts to vibrate again. “Shit, he’s calling again.”
“Answer it, silly!” She starts bouncing up and down on the couch, jostling my arm and almost making me drop the phone. I stand up and walk over to the window, then answer.
“Hi Nash,” I say quietly, biting on my fingernail.
“Emma. Fuck, am I ever glad to hear from you.” His voice washes over me like a soothing wave of sexy warmth.
“Really?” I ask in disbelief. “Then why didn’t you call me sooner?”
A sigh, laced with regret, comes down the line. “Trust me, I’ve asked myself that countless times. Look, can we talk in person? I want to see you.”
“What’s he saying?” Allie’s loud whisper has me waving a hand at her. I can’t concentrate on anything more than what Nash is saying.
“You want to see me?”
He chuckles. “Yeah, baby. I really do. I owe you an apology for everything. I miss you, too, you know.”
For some reason, that makes me angry. “No, Nash. Actually, I don’t know that. You let me walk out the door, and never got in touch with me. You’re a fucking superstar and I’m just me. So why the hell would I know thatyou miss me.” The biting and sarcastic tone in my voice makes Allie wince from her spot on the couch but I don’t care. He deserves to know how I feel.
“Emma, I miss you so goddamn much. Don’t you realize how I felt when you told me youhad fun?God, I thought our night meant nothing to you. It killed me to watch you leave, but I honestly didn’t know what to do. I’ve been a mess ever since. The guys in the band are ready to kill me because I’m so distracted thinking about you, I keep fucking up in rehearsal.” He pauses, and his voice shifts to a more intimate tone, one laced with affection and emotion deeper than I’m prepared for. One that gives me shivers, remembering him whispering in my ear while sliding his cock into me. “I messed up. I freaked because I thought what we had meant more to me than it did to you. I’m so sorry. Please, let me see you so we can talk.”
I can feel my resolve crumbling with every word he says.
“Okay,” I say quietly. “Are you going to be in Vancouver any time soon?”
He clears his throat. “Ah. Well, that’s the thing. I’m already here.”
I freeze mid-step back to the couch where Allie is still waiting. “What?” I ask incredulously. That was the last thing I expected to hear.
“Yeah, so, I bought an apartment downtown a few weeks ago. The guys and I use a recording studio up here instead of in Nashville, and I figured it made sense to get a place to stay instead of hotels.”
“Rumble Records,” I mumble, remembering what I read in one of the articles about him and the model.
“Right. I’ve been here for a couple of weeks now. I kept thinking about texting you, then I wasn’t sure if you would want me to. Can you believe me when I say I regret that I was too fucking scared?”
I nod, then realize he can’t see that. “Yes.”
“Thank God.” Relief is palpable in his voice. Then, hesitantly, he continues. “Did you…have you seen any news about me lately?”
