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“Don’t know. I’ve just been inspired.”
They sat in silence for a moment, then one of them sighed, and Killian said, “I’m so sorry. I ruined everything between us.”
My heart stuttered. I knew how hard this had been for him, how hurt he was by losing his band.
“No, it’s…it’s all right. I’ve been working through some shit myself and trying to figure out where I’m at. You know?”
“Still, I shouldn’t have put you in that position. I got carried away, not to mention we were all drunk.”
His friend chuckled. “That too. Still, it didn’t need to go the way it did, and I overreacted. I shouldn’t have broken up the band over a kiss.”
“Well, it wasn’t just that I kissed you. I think you’re more secure in your sexuality than that. We had a lot of unresolved issues.”
“Yeah, I was jealous of what Killian Wilde was becoming. You’d been Killian Winter so long, I forgot who you were related to, and then when the label wanted to capitalize on it. It just threw me into a tailspin. All I saw was Clapton and his band, and how they got left in the dust, and it wasn’t Cream anymore. It was all him, and he went on to do his own thing.”
“Justin Timberlake and NSYNC,” Killian offered.
His friend huffed a soft laugh. “Exactly. It made me feel like the Chris Kirkpatrick of the whole show.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you feel that way, Rush.”
“That’s just it. You didn’t. They did. I let them get to me. And I ruined a great thing for everybody. Because my ego got in the way.”
I shouldn’t be listening to this. This wasn’t a conversation meant for my ears. So, I stood up and made to head back to my room. But then Rush said something that turned my blood to ice.
“I want to get the band back together. Write a new album. Go back on tour.”
Killian took a deep breath and sighed. And I waited, wondering what this was going to mean for him and me in more ways than one. Everything hung on what he was going to say next. My heart couldn’t take it.
“I don’t know; there’s a lot going on right now.”
“I get it. You’re working with Jameson Lorde. You probably don’t need us anymore.”
“No, that’s not the point. Let me get through this with Jameson. See it to the end. And then I’ll let you know…if the offer’s still open by then.”
“Kill, we’re not doing anything without you.”
I couldn’t listen anymore. I went back to the bedroom and sat there on the mattress with my head in my hands, trying to figure out how I’d been so stupid.
‘Let me get through this.’ Like I was some kind of obstacle he needed to pass by. Like this was just one more hurdle to get him to where he needed to go. I had stupidly let my emotions get the better of me. I had fallen, if not fully, at least halfway in love with the broken man who had been abandoned, and my stupid heart had thought it could help fix his. This was why I didn’t let myself fall. It was why I didn’t seek out relationships. Because all that happened was that you got hurt and you got left behind. And you didn’t matter. You were disposable. I was disposable.
‘Let me get through this. See it to the end.’
The end. I had naively thought the end was never going to come. I’d seen a future with Killian Wilde, wanted a future with him, and hoped he wanted the same thing. But clearly, I had been wrong. Instead of being an adult about all of this, I did what I did best. I ran.
Was it the most mature decision?
No.
If I had simply told him how I felt, maybe things would be different. But here’s the thing. Even if we’re adults, we don’t always make the best choices. Sometimes we let fear rule us. Sometimes we choose not to communicate to avoid hearing the thing that might break us.
But even more than that. If I pushed to be together now, to work as partners with or without sex as part of the relationship, I was holding him back from finding something good with his band again. His band had been with him since they were kids. I couldn’t stand in the way. We’d initially agreed to co-write one song and a b-side. Now we had seven solid tracks. Numbers I’d gladly just take a co-writing credit on and let him and his band have if it meant he could get back what he’d lost. Because I’d seen how much it had hurt him. I’d listened when he told me his story, and I’d looked at his expression and seen the truth there. So instead of spending the day wrapped up in each other like I’d hoped, I packed everything I’d brought, got dressed, and cleaned up. Then I made my bed and laid the hat I borrowed from him on the center of the mattress.
“You know that’s bad luck, right?” His voice made my shoulders stiffen.
‘Everything’s bad luck to you cowboys.”
“Why does it look like you’re leaving me?” Killian asked, the words soft and broken.
