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“One.” She smirks at me. “I’m going south.”
“Two, for what?” I hold up another finger.
This time, she holds up two fingers, mimicking me. “Two, I have a photo shoot with someone for their engagement.”
“That takes four days?” I ask, and she tilts her head to the side.
“No, I have a bridal photo shoot that I’m also doing.” She laughs. “All these questions.”
I think about how to ask this next question without sounding needy. I know no matter what I say, it’s going to come out as needy, and to be honest, I don’t really give a shit at this point. “Would it be okay if I came with you?” As soon as I ask the question, I look away from her, not sure I want to be looking at her if she says no.
“You want to come with me?” she asks, and I take a deep inhale and try not to sound too desperate. I think about ways to say it, think about how to word it politically correctly, but in the end, it just comes out the way it is supposed to.
“Pretty much,” I say. “If it’s okay with you.” I stare at her, trying to see what she is thinking, but I don’t know. Or maybe I do know, but I’m just too scared to think about it. I’m pushing her too fast, my head screams out, but then the thought of not being with her for four days kills me, especially since I just got her back fully. “It’s fine,” I say finally. “I’ll wait for you here.”
TWENTY-SEVEN
GABRIELLA
I look over at him as he avoids looking at me, and instead, he picks his fork back up and pushes around the food on his plate. Which I know he does when he’s not sure and nervous. We never went out before in public back in LA. Actually, we went out once, and he spent the whole night looking over his shoulder and doing what he is doing now, so I never pushed him to go out again. I was just happy to be with him, so I was okay with staying in. Besides, I got the real Romeo, the one whose eyes lit up when he laughed. The one who made jokes, even if they were dumb. The one who was carefree. The one I fell in love with. “I’ll wait for you here.” He turns to me and smiles, but it’s the fakest smile I’ve ever seen, which shocks me.
This whole thing has shocked me. “I never thought…” I start to say, and he holds up his hand to stop me from talking.
“It’s fine. It’s not going to be for long,” he reasons, and now I get upset, and it’s making me angry.
“When I booked this, we weren’t even together,” I remind him, my tone going a bit higher.
“Okay, so…” He puts his fork down and then turns to look at me.
“It’s in a little town.” I try to find the words to fight my side of it, even though there really isn’t anything to argue.
“Do you not want me to come?” he asks, and my stomach rises to my throat in a full softball-sized lump before it drops to the pit of my stomach.
“I want you to come,” I say honestly. “In my defense, we were not…” I open my hand and do a circle. “This.” Trying not to point out what we are because it might make me sound needy.
“You mean we weren’t dating,” he fills in the words for me. “I wasn’t your boyfriend.”
“Yeah, that,” I say, pointing at him. I don’t know why I’m afraid to say the words. He chuckles, and I hope this awkward conversation goes away. “I just think you might be bored.”
“Well, how about you let me worry about that,” he suggests, and I smile at him. Of course he would handle this smoothly and calmly, unlike me, who is nervous and not sure of anything. He puts his hand on mine, and I feel his heat. “Why don’t we clean up, and then we can head back to my hotel and I can grab a bag.”
I don’t say anything. Instead, I just nod. I don’t say a word while I get dressed and when we walk into his hotel room, he stops and turns to me. “Talk to me,” he urges, tossing his leather jacket from his hand onto the couch.
All the words are jumbled in my head, all of them. I should take a second and get the words in place but nope, not me. I might get this from my uncle Matthew. “I don’t want you to think that I don’t want you there,” I say the most important words. “It never even crossed my mind that we would be together when I booked this.” He just stands there, not saying anything, and I put myself in his shoes. If it was me, I would be so hurt and probably pissy about it. Okay, fine, not probably, it would be a huge pissy moment. “I want you to come with me. Romeo,” I whisper his name. “Will you come with me?”
He looks at me, shaking his head, smirking. “If I was going away,” he starts, “would you not come with me?”
I just stare at him. My feet move on their own to him. I stand in front of him, but this time, I’m the one reaching for him. “Last night,” I admit softly, “things changed.” My hand cups his cheek as my index finger traces his bottom lip. I lean in and kiss him softly. “From now on.”
“You called me your boyfriend.” He grins, wrapping his arms around my waist, and I chuckle.
“Fine,” I say, pretending that I’m annoyed, but instead, it makes me settled. “I mean, I guess so.” I place both my hands around his neck. “Will you come with me?”
“Fine,” he huffs, mimicking me. “I mean, I guess so.”
I push him away from me. “Go pack a bag,” I urge him. Instead of walking away from me, he slips his hand in mine. “What are you doing?” I ask as he pulls me with him to the bedroom.
“I don’t think we’ve ever had makeup sex,” he muses, turning and walking backward.
