I glance at the day-old text for the millionth time.

Rebel: I know I freaked you out, and for that I’m sorry. But I’m not sorry that I broke our agreement and developed feelings for you. If you change your mind about New York, the offer stands.

My stomach pitches and rolls every time I read the words. He’s sorry he freaked me out? But he’s not sorry that he has feelings for me. I don’t even know how to process that. What kind of feelings does he have? And surely the offer to try to work things out must have an expiration date. If I blow him off for six months and then try to talk things out, he’ll have found someone who’s less of a head case than I am.

A knock at my door startles me until I remember that Mason is supposed to be coming over so we can put the finishing touches on our mobile game. I shove my phone roughly into my pocket and open my door.

“Hey, man.”

“Hey,” Mason responds, stepping into my apartment with just a bit more confidence than the last few times he was over. It might take some time, but eventually, he’s going to be comfortable around me. I don’t know why that matters to me, but it does. He strikes me as the type of person who hasn’t had many friends in life, and I can more than relate with that.  

“I’m surprised you didn’t go to New York with your man,” Mason says as we get settled on my sofa with our laptops and our notes spread out around us.

“Rebel isn’t my man,” I snap, the words like a sharp knife in the pit of my stomach. “And how did you know about New York?”

A blush creeps up Mason’s neck and into his cheeks. “I’ve been texting with Heart a little bit. He couldn’t go to New York, and he was bummed about it.”

A smile twists on my lips. As miserable as I feel right now, I’m happy Rebel made the right call introducing him to Heart. Who knows, maybe they’ll fall in love and live happily ever after. I don’t know why I’m suddenly able to even think those words without rolling my eyes, but there you have it.

“I think I fucked things up with Rebel,” I admit.

“What happened?”

“He told me he was stepping back from filming scenes and is only going to do behind the camera work from now on, and I kind of freaked out on him.”

“Why?” The confusion on Mason’s face almost makes me chuckle.

“Because it felt like some sort of gesture, and maybe it was. I don’t know, he says he has feelings for me, and I don’t even really know what that means.” I struggle to explain.

“Hold on, let me see if I’m getting this. You got scared because you thought Rebel was taking the relationship more seriously than you were?”

“Yeah, that’s a way easier way to put it.”

“You don’t have any feelings for him?” Mason asks, cocking his head to one side.

“What does that even mean?” I grumble. “What are these elusive feelings everyone keeps referring to?”

“It means you like him for more than just sex; you like just being around him, and you like him as a person. Like, if you have a mental checklist of things you look for in a long term partner, feelings usually means the person checks a lot of those boxes. It means you can see a future with them.”

Oh.

“Yeah, maybe some of that.”

My heart pounds as I think back over the past few months and all of the non-sex time Rebel and I have spent together. If I’m being honest with myself, there are some definite warm fuzzies when I think about the time we’ve spent watching Netflix, talking on the thirty-hour road trip, the fun we had in Vegas...and then when I think of how I felt seeing him with his family…

“I think I have feelings for him,” I admit in a whisper like I’m confessing an illness. “Fuck. What do I do now?”

“Tell him how you feel.”

“But I was such a dick. Not just when I freaked out at him, but I’ve been pushing him away all this time while he’s been letting himself fall for me. I don’t deserve him, but if I’m going to try to make things right, I can’t just call him and tell him I want to be his boyfriend or anything lame like that.”

“Go to New York,” Mason suggests. “I can find out from Heart where they’re staying, and you can go tell him how you feel. Maybe even consider the word love?”

My heart jumps into my throat. “We’ll see about that last part.”

“But you’ll go to New York?” Mason asks.

“Yeah, I don’t think I have a choice. I need to win Reb—Hendrix back.”

Mason whips out his phone and presses a few buttons. “Hey, Heart, I need a favor.”

* * *

After Mason got me the information on where the guys are staying in New York and where the awards ceremony is being held, I booked the earliest flight I could get and spent a restless night mentally rehearsing what I could say to Hendrix to make things right between us.

When I get off the plane, my hands are shaking, and I feel like I’m on the verge of a massive panic attack. What do I do if I lay it all out on the line and he tells me he changed his mind? Or what if I misinterpreted everything and Hendrix doesn’t want me the way I want him? Propositioning him for sex when he was just a stranger was so much easier than asking him to be my boyfriend now.

I hail a cab and tell him which hotel I need to go to, and then I sit back and try to enjoy the sights of a city I’ve never been to. But the entire time, all I can do is count down the miles dissolving as I get closer to my man.

The one thing Heart didn’t know was the room number, so when I get to the hotel I stop at the front desk.

“Hi, I’m supposed to be meeting my friends, but I forgot to get his room number. Would you happen to know which rooms the Ballsy Boys are staying in?” I ask with a charming smile.

“I’ll have to call up and make sure it’s okay to tell you. There’ve been a few fans trying to gain access after they heard they were staying here.”

I nod in understanding and wait as she calls up to their rooms. I wanted this to be a surprise, but I guess it still will be in a way.

“No one is answering,” she says apologetically after a minute or so of trying to call.

“Oh, shit. What time is it?”

I whip out my phone and realize they’re probably already at the award ceremony. I take off again, hailing a cab and hoping to hell I’ll be able to find Hendrix there.

When I hop out of the cab at the hotel where they’re holding the awards thing, I realize I’m going to stick out like a sore thumb as soon as I enter, in my casual clothes, carrying a duffle bag with my stuff in it. But I don’t care. All I care about is getting to Hendrix.

Inside isn’t exactly what I was expecting, as people mingle while food and drinks are being served. It looks more like a bit of a party than a stuffy awards ceremony like I was imagining. And, it turns out I’m not really underdressed after all, considering some of the stars in attendance are practically naked.

It only takes a second for my gaze to zero in on Hendrix across the large hotel ballroom. I push my way through the crowd, calling half-hearted apologies to those who seem particularly offended. I come to a stop in front of Hendrix, and the moment his ice-blue eyes meet mine, every word I practiced over the last twenty-four hours is blown from my mind, and I stand there gaping at him like a complete moron.

“Troy, what are you doing here?” he asks, his expression seeming to war between worried and happy to see me.

“I needed to talk to you.”

“Okay, let’s talk,” he agrees.

“Could we go somewhere private for a minute?”

Hendrix glances over his shoulder at all his friends, seeming to realize for the first time that all eyes are on us. His hand finds my lower back, and he leads me out of the convention hall, into a quiet hallway.

“Okay, let’s talk,” Hendrix prompts as soon as we’re alone.

I take a deep breath, desperately grappling for my scattered thoughts. I knew exactly what I wanted to say, but now I’m at a loss. “I was a dick,” I blurt and Hendrix smiles.

“Go on.”

“I’ve held people at arm’s length my whole life, because I was afraid to get hurt. It’s worked well for me for the most part. But, you had to go and fuck that all up by making me fall for you. I don’t do relationships, but with you, I think...I think I want to try.”

“You want to be my boyfriend?” Hendrix asks with a slight teasing lilt in his tone.

“Yeah, I do. I want to be exclusive and committed and all that shit.”

“You have such a way with words.”

“Hey, you can’t make fun of me; I’m your boyfriend,” I complain, stepping close to Hendrix and reaching for him. I need to touch him. I need to feel that this is real.

“That’s not a rule at all; I can totally make fun of my boyfriend.” Hendrix opens his arms and pulls me in, and all I can do is melt against his chest, basking in his heat and distinct scent.

“I lo—” I try to tell him what Mason suggested, but the word catches in my throat. I don’t think I’ve ever said it out loud. My parents never even told me they loved me that I can remember. “Sorry, that’s hard.”

“That’s okay,” Hendrix’s hand runs up and down my back soothingly. “We’ll get there. And when you’re ready to say it, I can tell you that I do, too.”

My heart leaps into my throat, and I nod. “Wow, this is getting heavy. I feel like we need a quickie or something to make this easier.”

“We’re not going to use sex to hide from our feelings now. Don’t get me wrong, we’ll still have tons of sex, because sex is awesome, but it’s okay for things to get heavy. Okay?”

“Okay,” I agree before grabbing Hendrix by the back of the neck and pulling him into a deep kiss.

“Sorry to bust up this love fest, but you’re going to miss the award announcements,” Brewer says from behind Hendrix.

He presses a few more kisses to my lips before releasing me and then twining our fingers together and leading me back into the crowded room.