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“He's dominant, a bit of an alpha male. What’s your point?”
“That’s not good, right?”
“Depends. How do you feel about it?”
“What do you mean?” I asked.
“Girl, are you givin’ into him because you like it, or givin’ into him because you think he’ll hurt you if ya don’t? Because if you like it, then what’s the problem? And if it’s the latter, we don’t need to be talkin’, you need to be leaving his ass.”
I thought about her question for a minute. Did I like it when Drake manhandled me?
“I guess I like it,” I said.
“You don’t even know what you like?”
“Okay, okay. Yes. I like it. But I just—”
I sighed, as I put my head in my hands, trying to calm my raging mind.
“Girl, you got some stuff to work through. You’re scared, plain and simple. Scared of intimacy. Scared of bein’ with him. Scared of takin’ a chance. And no one’s blaming you for that. But you gotta own up to it. You gotta admit that to him. Because I bet if you do, you’ll find he’s scared, too. Just like you are.”
“Drake never gets scared,” I said.
“Was he scared when you were in that hospital bed? Because it sure as hell sounded like it from the way Mr. Hart was talkin’.”
It was like that every day for two solid weeks. Every day Drake was gone, I opened up more and more about my hesitations and reservations about being with him. And every day, she had more advice for me. She treated me like a friend but talked to me like a mother. She gave me advice that was hard to hear, but also included things I needed to think about. I treasured those lunch hours with her. It helped me to sift through my emotions and see the ways I was going wrong, even though Drake was going wrong as well.
Clearing my head with Stacia allowed me to focus more on my work. And because of that better focus, Mr. Hart pulled me into his office. He told me that he was so impressed with the way I treated patients after their appointments that he was going to assign me my first client to work with. I would have a regularly established time with them during the week. Mr. Hart would allow me to use his office to conduct the weekly meetings. I would be allowed to offer plans of action so long as he approved them beforehand.
And if all went well with my first client, then he would give me another one.
I was ecstatic, and so immersed in my work that the two weeks without Drake flew right on by. I wrapped up things with the P.A. company and received my last paycheck from them just as I was preparing to work with my first client. Thankfully, the nausea I’d been experiencing was finally lifting.
The night of the concert came around.
It had been a long day at work and all I wanted to do was rest. I wanted to kick my heels off, put my feet up, and watch mindless television while eating takeout Chinese off my stomach. But Stacia’s words kept echoing off the chambers of my mind. I could hear her calling me scared, telling me I was running instead of making things work, that I had issues I needed to sift through with him and that I would always be connected to him, so I might as well make the best of it. I tried to block out her words as I turned on the television, but the louder I turned it up, the louder her voice screamed in the back of my mind.
I had to face things head on. If this was going to work with Drake and I, then I needed to show him that I was willing to work on things with myself.
He was trying, and now it was my turn to give him the same courtesy.
CHAPTER 33
Drake
Two Weeks Later
Two weeks on the damn road with no one to keep me company but Hank. No Landon. No Stone. And certainly, no Delia. I called her every night to see how she was doing, but mostly she steered the conversation away from herself and onto me. It was frustrating as hell and it made me wanna scream, but I got where she was coming from. Hank and I had engaged in a few heated discussions while on the road. Conversations that spring boarded from the dose of truth he threw at me in my driveway a couple weeks ago. I didn’t want to admit that I was treating Delia that way. I was worried about her and I wanted to do what was best for her.
I didn’t want to admit that giving her space was probably what she needed right now. She was pregnant and vulnerable, but she was also strong and smart and capable. I was just so damn scared of losing her and that baby, it consumed my every waking thought.
So, I gave her space as best as I could. I missed her, which was new for me. Sure, I missed Elsie while on the road, but no one else had mattered to me since I started touring.
I was really looking forward to being home in Nashville. It was my last performance and the tour had gone well with lots of good press, which made Hank very happy. But mostly, lots of happy fans despite the fact that I didn’t have my band. There were no giant speakers to hop up on and no pointing out to women in the crowd. I didn’t have my signature six-pack on stage and I wasn’t guzzling down alcohol until I couldn’t remember anything.
I was performing clear-headed, acoustic concerts. And I was having the time of my life, musically speaking.
We rolled into Nashville and I drew in a deep breath of that clear country air. I had no idea if Delia was going to actually show up tonight. I hoped she did. I prayed she did. But with the conversations I’d had with Hank over the past two weeks, it wouldn’t have shocked me if she didn’t.
