“I tried for a while and now it feels like it’s too late.”
I shake my head as I gaze up at him. “It’s never too late to work on yourself.”
“I guess I never had a reason to before,” he admits after a beat.
“And now you do?” My heart skips a beat.
“It feels like it,” he says softly, looking down at me with an expression that makes my heart flutter with hope. I don’t know how to respond, so I snuggle into his chest and close my eyes.
“Let’s clean up,” he says after a while. “What time is your flight tomorrow?”
“Noon.”
“I wish the band didn’t have to leave so early.” He pauses. “I wish you didn’t have to leave at all.”
“I have to work,” I say quietly.
“Could you call in sick for just one day?” he asks. “We just started whatever this is and now you have to leave before we really have a chance to explore it.”
I hesitate. There’s nothing I’d like better than to stay with him longer, but to what end? Eventually, whether it’s Monday, Wednesday, or Friday, I’ll have to go back to LA and he has to stay on tour. No doubt I’m overthinking things because of what we just did, but the truth is the odds are stacked against us.
“I’ll pay whatever it costs to change your ticket.”
“It’s not about the money.”
“I’m not ready for you to leave yet,” he says, gently lifting my chin and forcing me to look at him. “Do you not want to see me again?”
I almost laugh at the absurdity of that question.
“Of course I do,” I respond carefully. “But we have to be realistic. I have to work, and my job is in LA. You have to work, and your job is everywhere but LA.”
“I know.” He sighs. “How about we clean up real quick and continue this conversation in bed?”
It doesn’t take us long to finish showering and get ready for bed. Fifteen minutes later we’re nestled under the covers with him on his back and me resting my head on his chest.
“So, what are you thinking?” he asks, lightly running a hand up and down my back.
“I like you,” I say quietly. “A lot. But doing the long-distance thing will be hard.”
“I think most things in life that are worthwhile are difficult. Look at what your sister and Tommy went through. It took a lot of pain and soul-searching for them to find their way back to each other.”
“Yeah, but they have the money and resources to do almost anything they want. I can’t afford to fly out to see you regularly.” I pause. “Well, I guess that isn’t completely true. I’ve lived with Harley for the last few years, so I don’t have a lot of bills, but now that she and Tommy are back together, I’m planning to move out. And to be honest, I’m not sure whether I want to rent or buy. That’s why I’m careful with my spending.”
“You’re saving up.”
“I’ve been saving up the whole time I’ve lived with her. So, I guess I can technically afford to fly out to see you regularly. But then the question is—what’s our endgame?”
I know it’s ridiculous to be having this conversation so soon after the first time we had sex, but we don’t have the luxury of taking it slow. I don’t even know when I’m going to see him again.
“Can I be honest with you, Wynter?”
“I’d prefer that.”
“I’m forty-two,” he says quietly. “I already lost everything and had to start over once before. I know firsthand how short life can be. I have no interest in playing games. The attraction between us is obvious and the chemistry is off the charts. I’m willing to see what there is to see, if you are.”
Chapter Twelve
Ross
