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Blinking through the tears, Ash is down at eye level looking at me.
“Focus on me.” He waves two fingers between us, and I see he’s not touching me. “And breathe with me.”
He’s placed my hand on his chest, just like he did before, and his heart is beating against it in a soothing rhythm.
Keeping my eyes on his, shame and embarrassment wash over me.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper to him, and his eyebrows furrow.
“Hey, I told you before, you don’t have to apologize for anything. Just tell me what I did.” There are worry lines around his eyes.
Swallowing, I push down the lump that’s formed in the back of my throat. “Neck.”
He runs his hand over his face and lets out a breath. “Okay, now I know,” he says slowly, smiling at me, understanding.
“Ash.” My chin quivers and eyes again fill with tears. I’m terrified this is going to ruin us. Ruin what we’ve started.
One hand reaches up for mine, takes it off his chest, and he links our fingers together. “Ava, it’s okay. I told you, we’ll figure it out as we go.” His other hand comes up and his thumb wipes away my tears.
Pulling me closer, my hips lean against him and I arch my back to look up at him. “You need to get moving,” he says, while leaning down and brushing his lips against mine one more time.
“Okay,” I murmur once he releases me, and I let out a deep sigh.
“I’ll text you soon.” He gives me one of his signature smiles, dimples and all.
“Can’t wait,” I say, smiling.
His eyes hold mine as he takes another step back and toward the truck. My hand drops, but I don’t move. I can’t move. I’m about to watch the one person I’ve allowed myself to feel anything for in seven years drive away.
I hate how final this feels, but I’m going to have faith in him that it’s not.
PULLING AWAY FROM the curb and leaving her here at the airport is by far one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to do. My hands grip the steering wheel and I squeeze with as much force as possible. If I don’t, there’s a good possibility that I’ll pull over and go right back to her.
I hate those flashbacks. They cause me physical pain to see her so easily sucked right in. I also hate that I’m not given any warning signals to back off. I mean, what the hell? I have no idea when, where, or what happened to her to make her this way, but I swear, if I ever meet this guy, I will end him.
Glancing in the rearview mirror, she’s still standing there, and my heart swells at the thought she isn’t ready to say goodbye to me either.
It feels so strange to have a girl be interested in me, because ofme, and not who I am out in the world. As far as I can tell, she has no idea that I’m Will Ashton, country superstar, and that makes me feel so good. I don’t really feel like I’m deceiving her—after all, I’m being me when I’m with her, so hopefully once she finds out, she won’t be angry with me.
Rounding the corner as I pull out of departures, she disappears. My heart crashes into my chest and panic settles in on it. I really hope she meant it when she said she would see me over the holidays. I’m not past going to her place in NYC to make that happen if I have to.
I’m in love with this girl.
One weekend—that’s all it took. Hell, one look was enough. I’m surprised, shocked, and elated all at the same time. In thirty years, I have never felt about a girl the way I feel about her. Damn, it was so hard not to lay every bit of it out there, but I have so many other things that need to come first.
Reaching into my console, I grab my phone and pull up her name.
Me: Is it too soon to text you yet?
I know I’m breaking some unspoken guy code by not waiting, but I just can’t.
Ava: Nope. Your timing is perfect.
Her response makes me smile and the pressure on my chest eases.
Me: Good. I forgot to tell you to have a nice flight.
Ava: Thank you, and it looks like I will. I just got my boarding pass and am looking at a very low seat number. So low, it says 2A.
