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I glance up. “What do you mean?”
He gives me a look. “Cut the shit, Trent. It’s me. I can tell something happened between you two. You’ve been acting like a fool in love for weeks.”
“Becka and I are just friends.” I hate the words, even as I know that’s all we can ever be. I can’t lose her. And yet, it feels like I’m losing her with every second that passes without a response from her. She’s gone radio silent, and I’m not handling it well.
We were supposed to go right back to being friends. She seemed fine with it. I mean, she even woke up saying she thought it was a dream. I’ve replayed that morning countless times in my head in the past nearly forty-eight hours. And every time I replay it, it’s that first moment that changes the trajectory of the rest of the day. I’ve imagined what it would’ve been like if I’d kissed her instead of telling her we should stay friends. That’s always a dangerous road to go down because it makes me want a lot of things I can’t have.
Mainly her. All of her. Every glorious inch of—no, I have got to stop thinking that way.
I look down at my phone again and silently beg her to text me back. A word, an emoji. Any-fucking-thing would be better than her silence.
I’d take her anger. Her grief. Her joy. But I can’t take her silence.
“Maybe I should go over there and talk to her.”
“Not a good idea, big bro.”
“Why?” I ask, angry that he didn’t even hesitate in his response. What the fuck would he know about Becka?
“If she’s not texting you, then what makes you think she’ll want to talk to you? We have a few more days in town before tour. Give her a little breathing room.”
But what if she decides she doesn’t need me? That she’s better off not being in my life?
Deep down I know Tristan is right. If I crowd her, I’ll lose her.
If I haven’t already.
* * *
Anxious energy swirls in my body making me bounce on my toes. Normally Kasen is the hyped up one, but he’s hungover from partying too hard last night. Tristan is cool and casual like always. Miles is fiddling with his drumsticks. His anxiety has been worse since we all opted for sobriety to support Kasen, and I had to pull him aside this morning to tell him to smoke some weed before he had an anxiety attack. He’s refusing until we get to our first stop tonight and he can smoke away from Kase. Robbie is talking to our tour manager, discussing some final details, and Jolie has her camera glued to her hand taking candid shots of us as we prepare to load the tour bus. Every tour she designates herself our tour photographer. She’s pretty good too. So good, I actually made sure that we were paying her.
She makes us all look good, so she deserves to get paid for her hard work, even if it’s something she does because she enjoys it.
But none of that is why I’m anxious.
I texted Becka last night asking her to come see us off. I confessed that I needed to see her before I go. I wanted to tell her I missed her, but I felt like that might be pushing it. She hasn’t responded to any of my texts all week, and I’m going out of my fucking mind.
I even caved and went to her condo one night, but she wasn’t there, which sent me on a completely different type of spiral.
Was she with another guy?
If she was, what right did I have to be upset with that?
But I was.
Fuck, I still am.
I don’t know how this got all messed up. Okay, well maybe I kind of do. Part of me thinks it got messed up when we had sex, but deep down I know it wasn’t sex that messed things up. The sex was perfect.
No one has ever had better sex than we did.
No, it was the morning after.
It was my fear of losing her.
And I’ve lost her anyway.
I know it deep in my heart. I have tried to deny the truth for as long as possible, but as the clock ticks closer to our departure time and she still doesn’t show up, I know it for sure. Until finally, it’s time. Robbie and Jolie get in first, followed by Kasen, then Miles, until it’s just me and Tristan. I look down the road, staring and begging for her car to appear on the horizon, but it remains empty.
