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I poured myself another glass of water, trying to decide if I could risk crawling back in next to her. My feelings for her were already bordering on all-consuming, and I was terrified about not being able to rein them in and stay in control.
If I got back into her bed with her, I worried I’d lose the tattered shreds of my resolve and bury myself inside her like I longed to. The alternative was to run and have her hate me again. And I couldn’t bear that either. I didn’t have to decide because suddenly Frankie was standing in front of me, running her fingers through her tussled bed hair.
She yawned, taking me in. “Trying to decide if you should run, big man?”
“I could lie and say no, but I was.”
“Am I that hard to be around?” she asked, wide eyed.
I put down my glass and framed her face with my hands.
“No, Rogue. You’re not hard to be around at all. I’ve told you how I feel. I would worship you for a lifetime if I could.”
“But you can’t.”
“But I can’t,” I let out sadly.
“Talk to me, Matt.”
My only answer was to shake my head. The pain of my past stealing my words.
“Okay. I’m going back to bed. A girl needs her beauty sleep. If you need to go, then go. I don’t want to make you feel uncomfortable.”
“Rogue.” Her name sounded like a wish as it rolled off my tongue.
She looked at me.
“Youare not making me feel uncomfortable. This is all on me. You’re perfect. Beautiful. Sexy as hell. I want you to know that. This isn’t you.”
She didn’t speak, but turned and walked away from me. I followed her back into the bedroom and while my heart screamed at me to climb back into that cocoon with her, my head made me pick up my clothes and leave.
I paused in her bedroom doorway, my back turned, not trusting myself to look at her again. “Thanks for the cuddle, Rogue. Be good. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Night, Matt.” The sadness was clear to hear in her voice, and I hated that I was punishing her as much as I was punishing myself.
It was our last night in Europe before we flew to the US for three months. Tanner’s stalker had gotten worse, breaking into the hotel, taking photos in places they shouldn’t be able to get to, putting the whole band in danger.
I’d not slept more than a few hours a night for the last few weeks. I’d not seen Frankie other than in passing, as I worked constantly to minimize the risk to the band. And I missed her more than I wanted to admit.
I had more help now we had Thomas involved and having armed security around helped me make the band feel safer, even though I hated everything about the guns they carried.
I’d just stepped out of the shower, a towel wrapped around my waist, water still dripping from my body, when I heard someone outside my door. I pulled it open expecting to see a member of my team or even one of the crew. I didn’t expect to see Frankie, looking like she’d been crying.
“Rogue?”
“I… I need to talk to you. Can I come in?” She looked me up and down, noticing that I wasn’t dressed. “Sorry, it’s a bad time. I’ll come back.”
“Sit, please. Give me a second.” Pointing to my bed, I stepped into the bathroom.
I pulled on some sweats, drying my chest and head, before tossing the towel in the corner and walking back into the room.
“What’s wrong?”
When she didn’t answer, I crouched down and dusted my knuckles over her jaw. “Talk to me,” I demanded in a low voice, hating how sad she looked, wanting to fix whatever it was.
“Did you know?” she asked in between silent sobs that shook her body.
“What about?”
