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She flicks him in the forehead and he grins widely, dimples sinking deeply in his cheeks.
She wiggles in his arms, forcing him to lower her back down.
Brushing off her jeans, she flips her black hair over her shoulder and steps back. They exchange a few quiet words I can’t make out from here, before he gives her the suitcase.
Dark eyes find mine, and then he’s moving toward me.
Or maybe I’m moving toward him.
I’m not sure. All I know is the distance is shrinking, finally shrinking. His face is in my hands, and my lips are being crushed under the desperate weight of his kiss.
I stumble back, so I just figure,fuck it,and grab him, holding him for leverage. He’s finally in my arms again, and I’m holding him so tight I lift him off the ground. Guitar and all.
He’s grumbling into my mouth, digging his nails into my shoulders. But I don’t care, I don’t fucking care. We could go tumbling to the ground, for all I care.
Something tells me he doesn’t mind either, if the pierced tongue flicking the back of my teeth is anything to go by.
“Asshole,” he mutters against my mouth.
There’s my Grumpy Bear,I think, smiling against his pouty lips.
When I lower him to his feet, I pull my head back just enough to brush the tip of my nose over his. “Hi.”
“Hi back,” he says, voice slightly choked. Features visibly tense. If I didn’t know better, I’d think he was nervous or paranoid or ashamed.
But I do know better now.
I know he’s trying not to crumble.
We’re nose to nose, chest to chest. Just breathing each other in like it’s been years rather than just weeks.
His hazel eyes glimmer the longer we stare at each other. I’m sure mine are just as bright.
“We did it,” he whispers after a moment.
I nod against him, sobering. “We did it.”
He gulps, and I squeeze my eyes shut, tightening my hold on him.
And he did it without even a single drop of alcohol,I think. Hit that one year mark and kept going, in spite of every challenge he faced.
Pride doesn’t even begin to cover what I feel.
No, this won’t be the last time his career takes him from me, nor will it be the last time we’re tested. There’s already talks of a tour to promote their new album coming out early next year. Life is just kicking off for him.
For both of us, really.
I’ll be starting classes in January to get my degree in social work, which means being his own personal groupie on tour won’t be possible. Not anytime soon. Not full-time at least.
But he begged me not to hold back anymore. Not with him, not with my life.
“We grow together,”he said firmly.“Together or not at all. That’s the only way this works.”
Knowing his words to be true, I promised him I’d try. If he can be strong without me, I can be strong without him. And that starts with finishing what I set out to do years ago. Sure, my goals shifted a bit, but I’m here now. Here and certain I know where I want to go with this one and only life of mine.
And who I want to spend it with.
Not that I wasn’t already certain of that months ago.
