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“Because I am.”
“But last night—”
“Last night was a mistake. You and I both know it. I need to get to LA. I have things to take care of. I’ve had enough playing cowboy.”
“What? I don’t understand.”
“Look, we’ve done what we were supposed to do. Two fantastic songs and half an album.”
“What am I supposed to do with an unfinished album?”
“Keep the songs and give them to your band. Just give me writing credit on it, please.”
His lips pressed into a thin line as he assessed me. “You heard that? Downstairs?”
“Yeah, I did.”
“I didn’t know he was coming to visit.”
“I know. But I also know that you’re happiest when you’re with them. You’re not Killian Wilde. You are Big Sky. You always have been.”
“You don’t have to leave. I don’t want you to leave.” God, I hated the break in his voice. It hurt.
“I need to leave because if I don’t… If I don’t, I’m just gonna get pulled deeper into your orbit, and I won’t survive.”
“Why do you say that?”
“Because I know what’s gonna happen. You’ll choose me because this is new and intense between us, but then weeks, months, years down the road, you’ll resent me, and we’ll both end up with hearts so bruised they barely work anymore. And I don’t want that. Besides, I bet you’ll write one hell of a breakup album.”
“We only just found each other.”
“And I’m really bloody glad we did. But I have to go. I can’t be the thing that keeps you from being as great as you should be.”
“We’re better together, Jamie.”
“No, I’m better with you. But you, Killian, you’re magic.”
“Can I say anything to keep you here?”
My heart clenched. There was one thing he could say, but I didn’t want to hear it. Because if he said he loved me, I would stay. I would stay, and my prophecy would come true. And then I’d lose him at the worst possible time.
“No. It’s over. I’m so glad fate put us together. I’ll see you in the studio.”
And with that, my hands shaking, my stomach sick, I walked out of his life and didn’t look back. But worst of all, he didn’t stop me.
Chapter Twenty-One
JAMESON
Walking away from Killian was the most painful thing I’d ever done. I hadn’t expected it to hurt so badly. I should’ve, but then again, I wasn’t incredibly familiar with commitment. Even after a solid week of no contact, I knew I’d have to see him again, eventually. That we’d reconnect, only so we could make good on our contract with the label. We’d record our singles, do some promo shoots, maybe film a music video, then separate again. But that was a problem for future Jameson.
Currently, I was sat at a bistro with Aiden Boyd lounging across from me, pretending my heart wasn’t broken.
“You are so full of shit,” he said, lifting his old fashioned and taking a sip.
“What are you on about?”
“You told me you were fine. This”—He gestured across the table at me—“this is not fine. You look like ass.”
