“If being yourself is a turn-off, then he’s not the right guy.”
I sigh, because she’s right.
And I don’t truly think Ross will just get bored with me.
What I’m really afraid of is that he’ll pick the safe option because of me and then resent me for it. He’ll be bored or frustrated with himself, which is a totally different thing, and then potentially take it out on me.
All of this is conjecture.
He’s never done anything to make me feel this way. Hell, we’ve only been together a few weeks. It’s all still new.
Everything.
Me, him, singing with Onyx Knight, the record deal offer, even me losing my job.
We haven’t had time to get our footing as a couple and there are already a million obstacles. Some of them are small, some of them could be monumental, but together they pose potential stumbling blocks.
And he’s too important for me to risk…stumbling.
We’re new but I already know he’s different. Important. Special. I don’t want anything I have control over to fuck it up.
The problem is—there are very few things I have control over right now.
I watch as he laughs and jokes with the band, talking shop, handling his new guitar lovingly. It’s a beautiful sight because he seems genuinely happy. In his element. Doing what he was born to do.
That’s why I’m willing to go back to work and make enough money to support us both. The jobs in small, out-of-the-way towns pay better because everyone wants to visit fun places like New York and California. But if I can take the jobs no one wants, it will pay well. Some places offer accommodations too. They’re usually rudimentary, but I don’t need much. A bed to sleep on. A place to put my clothes. A TV. A bathroom. That’s about it.
It’s a lot more convenient if I have my car so I have to think about that, but for now, the first job I’m going to take is in New Mexico, about an hour from Santa Fe. It’s for twelve weeks while a nurse is on maternity leave.
It’s perfect and pays well.
That job will end just in time for me to meet up with the band in Paris, where Harley and Tommy are having their wedding. They’re already legally married—they did that months ago in Vegas. Now they’re having the wedding. I’m her maid of honor. Z is Tommy’s best man. The other ladies are in the wedding party and the reception will be dinner at a restaurant inside the Eiffel Tower.
So it’ll be the perfect break for me.
Being away from Ross for nearly three months will suck but I’m willing to try so he can pick up where he left off nineteen years ago.
“Hey.” Ross approaches me with a grin. “Sorry about all that, but the guitar is fucking amazing. Thank you for nudging me to buy it.”
“I could see how much you wanted it. Besides, you work hard. You should be able to buy what you want, when you want it.”
I see a flicker of something in his expression. It was there and gone so quickly, anyone else would have missed it. But I saw it.
The problem is I’m not sure exactly what I saw.
Regret? Worry? Guilt?
“What?” I ask. “You had a funny look.”
“It felt good to be able to spend money without worrying,” he says quietly.
“Don’t worry. I’ll be making good money once I go back to work. We’ll be fine.”
I see it again—whatever it is he doesn’t want me to see—but this time I can’t ask because a radio personality approaches him with questions about tonight’s set list.
And I leave him to it.
Because this is going to be my life going forward.
