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Brit picked up a smaller pair of scissors and started on my beard. “I can’t,” she said after a moment. “I can’t do any of that. It’s hard to explain, except that I just got away from him, from all of it. And I can’t go back.”
“Then let me do it,” I said, tilting my head back and staring at the ceiling as she worked. “I’ll fly to L.A., talk to whatever lawyer we hire. I’ll help you gather the documents you need to prove your case. I won’t talk to him or do anything stupid. You call the shots, but I can take the phone calls and the meetings for you if it upsets you too much. If you think I’ll screw it up, get Ellen to supervise me. She’d be happy to help you get what you deserve. She’d be all in.”
I didn’t really know why I was so adamant about this, why it mattered to me so much. It wasn’t my business. But I hated the idea that Brit had walked away from a successful business with nothing, that she’d been heartbroken and scared, that she’d had to shoulder everything alone. If I could fix it, I wanted to fix it. If it would make life easier for her, if it would give her something she wanted, I’d drop everything.
“I can’t,” Brit said again, her tone obstinate. She kept her gaze focused on my jawline, avoiding my eyes. “You have your own career to run, and I’ve already taken enough from Ellen. Just accept that, okay?”
I didn’t want to give in. I wanted to push, to make her see things the way I did. “The offer is open,” I said, unwilling to completely give up. “If you change your mind, just tell me.”
“I will,” she said, and she didn’t mean it, but it had to be good enough.
I reached up and touched her arm, and her hands stilled. Reluctantly, she met my eyes.
“You’re not alone,” I said. “That’s all.”
Brit blinked, and then she dropped her gaze again.
* * *
The silence washeavy as we closed up the salon and went back to the hotel. I’d upset her, maybe, by bringing up her ex like that. By suggesting that I barge into her life and take it over. She’d only just gotten away from a guy who took over everything. It probably wasn’t my best look.
I wouldn’t apologize for it, though, so it left me with nothing to say.
It was midnight, the hotel dim and quiet. Tomorrow we’d play Charlotte, and then we’d be on the bus again. We were just past the halfway point of this tour, and the second half was always harder than the first half. I could feel the tiredness settling into my bones, trying to drag me down. With every bus ride, late night, impersonal hotel room, things would get harder from here. I’d want to sleep, but I wouldn’t be able to. More than ever, I’d have to go one day at a time.
My room was across the hall from Brit’s, and we walked to our respective doors. “Thanks for the haircut,” I said softly, so as not to disturb anyone in the rooms. “Good night.”
“Good night,” Brit said, but as I was fishing the key card from my pocket, she said, “Axel.”
She was standing in front of her door, and I couldn’t read the expression on her face. I leaned a shoulder on my doorframe, waiting for her to come out with whatever it was. I looked at the line of her neck, the curve of her breasts beneath her shirt. The urge to touch Brit, followed by the suppression of that urge, was so constant in me that it was an ache. I had to remind myself of her hands on my chest, pushing me away. The way her body had stiffened as she told me no.
So I couldn’t touch her. That was just how it was. I was tired, though, so my gaze traveled over her waist, the curve of her hip. Then she said, “I can’t leave it like this.”
I dragged my gaze back up to her face. “Leave what?”
Her cheeks reddened, and a tingling of awareness started deep in my belly.
“I noticed the rest of you,” she said.
Oh. Well. She was talking about the other night, when I went streaking, that she hadn’t only noticed my hair. I was glad I’d given her an enjoyable show, though it wasn’t intentional. “It was just a stupid stunt,” I said.
“It was,” she agreed. “But at least I got to see you naked.”
I sighed out a breath and forced my gaze away from her. I didn’t know what I was supposed to say. She could see me naked anytime she wanted, but that was off the table. We’d set rules.
We’d go into our separate rooms, and I’d sleep alone. Again.
“This is torture,” I admitted, almost to myself, the words slipping out of me. Then I shook my head. I wasn’t trying to guilt trip Brit. I’d just deal with it. Sleeping alone wasn’t the worst thing that could happen to a person. It would be fine.
She crossed the hall without a word, and then she slipped her arms around my waist. I straightened, my body tensing in surprise. She squeezed me tightly to her, and all of her was right there, all that softness and heat and woman scent, and my body went haywire. I looked into her face, trying to read her expression. Then she rose up on her toes and kissed me.
I kissed her back. Of course I fucking did. I had that sweet, soft mouth on mine for the first time in forever, and I cupped her jaw and kissed her as every part of me started to riot. My physical craving for this woman was something I’d locked away behind a door, but something that’s behind a door isn’t gone. It’s just waiting.
Brit made a noise in her throat and parted her lips, and through the pounding in my head—and everywhere—I forced my brain to work. We couldn’t go through this again. I broke the kiss, though I didn’t let her go.
Her eyes were wide and dark, and because I was only human, I drew my thumb along her bottom lip, the feel of it agony. “Brit,” I said. “I don’t usually make a woman do this, but if you want something from me, you’re going to have to tell me. You’re going to have to be very clear.”
“I know,” she whispered.
