Chapter 67

Piper

This was the most normal date we’d had since my attack.

“This pizza is so good,” I gushed. “Where did you get it?”

“I’m not telling you,” he replied with a teasing grin. “If I reveal my secret pizza connection, I won’t be able to use it to keep you with me.”

“Ah, so that’s your evil plan,” I deduced with a laugh. “And here I thought you were planning to use sex to get me to stay with you forever.”

It was the wrong thing to say. Sex had been much less wild and passionate since the attack. Austin acted like he’d frighten me if he wasn’t gentle. I didn’t blame him for acting that way. I’d needed that at first, not only because of my ribs, but because of my emotional state. I needed to let him know I was okay with things getting back to normal. No more tiptoeing around the issue. This wasn’t like me.

“Are you excited about your tour?” I asked, deciding we’d finish dinner before I worked on seducing Austin.

“That’s one of the things I wanted to talk to you about tonight,” he began. “The drummer for our opening band has been learning our stuff for the last few months. He’s good.”

“I guess that’s a smart idea in case you get sick,” I replied. “Xander hates filling in for one of you, and I can’t imagine how he’d sing and play drums. I know it can be done, but Xander seems to like bouncing all over the stage when he’s singing. He’d go nuts stuck behind the drums.”

“Xander wouldn’t like being behind my kit for an entire show,” he agreed.

“Why are you so serious?” I asked cautiously. “The band isn’t kicking you out, are they?” The question was ridiculous. Reckless Release was more than a band; they were family. They wouldn’t kick Austin out.

“We’re going to have him play with Reckless Release on the European tour,” Austin explained.

“Why would he need to perform for you on the tour?” I asked slowly. What I wanted to do was tell him he had better not be saying what I thought he was saying. “Are you telling me he’s going to play a few songs to get more experience with the band?”

“I’m not going,” he replied. “It’s something I’ve been negotiating with the label, and it seems they’re going to agree. I may need to be there for some of the bigger shows, but I’ll be here most of the time.”

“Why are you doing this?” I asked, trying to keep my voice level.

“I don’t want to leave you right now,” he explained.

“Because I’m some pitiful victim who needs you to stick by my side and take care of me?” I demanded. I was pissed. No, I was beyond pissed. Austin wanting to stay with me was sweet. Had he come to me with his idea and offered to stay behind, I’d have told him no and thanked him for being so worried about me. He hadn’t done that. Instead, he’d made the decision without even talking to me.

I couldn’t face him anymore. I stood and walked across the room to clean off my plate.

“Calm down, baby,” he soothed, standing to move to my side.

“Fuck you,” I snapped. “Don’t tell me to calm down.” My moods had been all over the place, and I often lost my calm for no reason. According to my therapist, mood swings were to be expected, but this wasn’t a mood-swing. I had good reason to be pissed off at the dumbass, brushing my hair back from my face. “Would you stop petting me?” I pushed him back and glared at him.

I almost felt bad for Austin when I saw his face. He looked hurt and confused.

“Sorry.” Austin looked like he wasn’t sure what to say. “I’m not trying to upset you. I can’t stand the idea of being away from you. What if something happens? I wasn’t there before. I can’t go through that again.”

And then I finally understood Austin’s motivation. This went far beyond simply worrying about how I’d handle things while he was gone. Austin had been on the tour bus when I’d been attacked. When he’d heard about it, he’d had a long ride to get to me. He was still trying to deal with his own issues over what had happened.

I went to him and wrapped my arms around his waist. Austin breathed out a sigh of relief as he held me tightly against his chest.

“I’m sorry,” I uttered against his chest. “I shouldn’t have blown up at you like that.”

“It’s okay,” he assured me. “This is something I probably should have brought up over a week ago, but I wasn’t sure we’d be able to pull it off. I didn’t want to tell you until I was sure I could stay with you.”

Pulling back, I took both of his hands in mine and gave them a gentle squeeze. “You have to go.”

“No, I don’t,” he argued. “Almost everything is arranged. Like I said, I might need to go to a couple of shows, but we should be able to get your passport so you can go with me.”

“Stop! You can’t miss this tour. It’s not fair to your fans. They may never forgive you if you bail on the tour after they’ve already bought tickets. There is no good reason for you to stay behind. If you give up your dream because of what happened to me, it will destroy our relationship. I’ll forever feel like the woman who ruined your life, and eventually, you’ll resent me for it.”

“That’s ridiculous,” he argued. “I won’t blame you for me staying behind.”

“Even if you don’t, I’ll blame myself,” I admitted. “You’ve been great, but we both need some space.”

Austin took a step back, looking even more confused and hurt. “Why do you need space? Everything has been going great. We’re not fighting, and you’re practically living with me.”

“We may not be fighting, but we’re both walking on eggshells,” I pointed out. “We’re afraid to talk about what happened. This is something we both need to work through, and part of working through it involves us both getting back to our normal lives. You are a musician. Touring is what you do. If you skip this tour, you’re going to be looking for an excuse to skip the next one. You can’t do this, Austin.”

Austin looked frustrated. He sighed and ran his hands through his hair before he spoke again. “We don’t need to talk about this tonight. Let’s finish our date. We can talk more about whether I’ll do the tour tomorrow.”

He still didn’t get it. “We aren’t going to discuss this. It would be best if I go home. We can talk more when you get back.”

“The tour doesn’t even start for nearly a week,” Austin argued. “Am I supposed to stop having any contact with you until I get back? How is that going to help things?”

“We’ll still talk,” I promised him, wanting desperately to throw myself in his arms and hold him close. I wanted to tell him how much I loved him, but we weren’t getting anywhere. Austin still believed we’d talk later, and he’d skip the tour. I couldn’t let him do that. “I’ll miss you.”

When I kissed him, he stood frozen for a several breaths before pulling me into his arms and kissing me until I was breathless.

“Don’t go,” he murmured against my lips.

“I have to, but I’ll be here when you get back.” On those words, I turned and walked away.