Chapter 39

Adelaide

“What time is it?” I press myself against Axton’s chest even though I’m as close as I can possibly get.

“Close to ten.” His lips kiss the top of my head. “I have practice in two hours, but I don’t want to get out of this bed.”

“You can’t be late. It’s your first huge show.”

He hums his agreement. “I wish I never signed the contract. Macon looks pretty damn good to me right now.”

Warmth blooms in my chest, but last night, before we made love, I decided I have to trust him. I have to give him my heart with the expectation he will keep it safe. I can’t stop that whisper in the back of my mind still begging me to take things slow, but that’s not really an option after what we shared last night.

“How long is the tour?”

“It’s eighty shows spread out over the next ten months with a three week break in May.”

I know he feels me stiffen against him.

“I know it’s a long time and we won’t get to see each other much, but I signed the contract. Had I known…” his words trail off, and I feel horrible he would give it all up for me. It’s not something I would even ask of him. If I expected that, I never should’ve gone as far as I did with him.

“But there are shows in the UK and a couple in Berlin.”

“It would be tragic for you to miss out on that.”

“You graduate in May. If you want, after my break, you can come along, watch me perform and let me hold you every night.”

I laugh at the silliness of being an Axton Lane groupie, but the thought of the other women almost has me agreeing to share the tiny bed he’s given on the tour bus just to keep them away.

“I’ve been thinking about entering into an MBA program.” My heart rate quickens at saying the words out loud for the first time even though the thought has been in my head for the better part of a year. “Emory has a great program, and I’ve kept my grades up enough to get at least a partial scholarship.”

He’s silent for what seems like an eternity, so I pull away from his chest to see his face.

“I’m sorry,” I whisper.

His arm tightens around me. “Don’t apologize for going after what you want. I just hate that we made decisions about our future separately.”

“Yeah,” I agree.

The quiet in the room swallows us as we lie still, contemplating how to make our future work when we aren’t going to see each other but a couple times a year.

With a soft kiss to the top of my head, he pulls away. “I don’t want to leave, but I have practice. Want to shower with me?”

I shake my head, heavy in my own thoughts. “I showered last night.”

“I need one to fully wake up,” he explains.

I wince, pain throbbing deep inside as I roll over.

“Sorry,” he murmurs. “Maybe a hot bath while I’m gone? I’ll have to stick around the arena, but I’ve made arrangements for a car to pick you up at seven.”

“You spoil me,” I tease.

“It’s my job.”

A soft kiss to the lips and he heads into the bathroom. He didn’t even mention the erection straining between his thighs, but I have a feeling his shower has more to do with dealing with that than needing to wake up.

Slowly, and with as much care as possible, I climb off the bed and head to the other room in search of something to wear. Making love last night did nothing to abate my shyness, and walking around in front of him naked isn’t going to happen anytime soon.

Just beyond the threshold, the condom wrapper from last night catches my eye. It wouldn’t cause panic if it were the same brand as the ones in my purse. I’d grabbed regular condoms at Renee’s insistence that the chances of Axton being handsome, vocally talented, and well-endowed were slim to none. The package on the floor is a magnum, which, as it turns out, he needed.

My palms are slick and shaking by the time I consider picking it up. Why would he need these if he was telling me the truth last night about having no expectations?

I lay the wrapper on the bed and barely pull my eyes from it while I quickly pull on a tank top and blue jean shorts. That whisper in the back of my mind is a full-on scream now, but I calmly pick up the wrapper and crawl back into the bed. He’ll have an explanation, but we weren’t together, so it’s not like I can really be mad about what he did while we were apart.

I can’t settle the riotous thoughts bouncing around in my head. Tears sting the backs of my eyes by the time I hear the water turn off. When he opens the bathroom door engulfed in steam with only a towel around his waist, I realize what happened the last few months doesn’t even compare to what he will have the opportunity to do over the next ten.

“What’s that?” he asks with a salacious grin as his eyes move to the condom wrapper I’m flipping in my hand. My heart breaks at his enthusiasm.

“This isn’t from my purse.” I hold the offending foil up so he can see it’s an empty one.

“The ones you had in your purse wouldn’t fit, so I had to grab one of mine.” The sly smile on his face nearly tips me over the edge into frantic insanity. “I know it was painful last night, but soon, you’ll be begging for more.”

“You aren’t worried that they were expired?” I’m grasping at straws as he drops the towel and grabs a pair of boxer briefs out of his duffle bag. He sits on the edge of the bed as he continues to rifle through, looking for more clothes.

“They better not be. I only bought them a month ago.” The stiffening of his muscles gives me the answer to every question I could ask.

“Tell me about the tour, about what happened around Thanksgiving.” That’s when things changed, when he went from doting and affectionate on video chats to being dismissive during phone calls.

He shakes his head, knowing what I’m asking but not wanting to put it out in the universe. “You don’t need that stuff in your head.”

“You were with other women,” I answer, refusing to lose momentum in this conversation. Just last night, he told me not to sugarcoat things for him, insisted I speak my mind, so I’m doing just that even if it tears us both apart. Dancing around each other, wondering what’s on the other’s mind hasn’t worked this far, so a change of tactics is in order.

“You were with Marcus.” My head snaps back, recoiling at his words. “I know you didn’t sleep with him, that much was obvious last night, but I need you to understand having sex with women is no big deal.”

I hiss, and he turns, finally facing me.

“Not you.” He reaches for me, and I bury my hands in the blankets at my lap so he won’t touch me. “We made love last night. I’ve never experienced anything like that. It was amazing and perfect and meant so much more to me than anyone who’s come before you.”

Clearing my throat to get a handle on my emotions doesn’t stop the tears from falling down my cheeks.

“When I heard you were dating Marcus, I just self-destructed. It hurt me as much as you’re probably hurting right now.”

I shake my head. “Impossible.” I look up to meet his eyes, the flash of pain mimicking my own. “I wasn’t dating Marcus. My relationship ended before school started. You were there to watch the entire dissolution at the bonfire.”

He shakes his head violently, refusing to hear my words, rejecting the truth.

“Carson saw you out on a date with him. That’s what happened around Thanksgiving.”

“He was mistaken,” I insist. “We did go to lunch. Did your little spy happen to mention my sister was there?”

He shakes his head. “He didn’t.”

“We weren’t on a date, Axton. We ran into each other and caught up on our semester over lunch.”

“He came to your house. I heard one of your sisters say he was there on a phone call. It’s what prompted me to ask Carson about it in the first place.”

“He stopped by once looking for his jacket I’d worn one evening when we were together. I gave it to him and he left. He stayed on the front porch. Renee wouldn’t even let him in the house,” I explain.

“I was hurt.”

“So instead of calling or asking a simple question, you slept with other women? I waited for you.”

Standing from the bed, he paces like a caged animal at the foot, hands working forcefully through his hair. “I couldn’t be mad. We hadn’t discussed anything before I left. You wouldn’t even kiss me on the lips before I drove to Atlanta to catch my flight.”

“So you get back at me by sleeping with other women?” My voice is rising, almost frantic to match his.

He stops and glares. “I wasn’t getting back at you. I thought you moved on and I was trying to do the same.”

I slam my eyes shut, unable to see the frustration and despair on his handsome face. “I can’t do this. This isn’t going to work. Every second you’re gone, I’ll wonder if you’re with someone else. It was the reason I didn’t want to start anything to begin with.”

“Don’t,” he growls. “Don’t push me away over something I did in the past. I’m not proud of it, but it’s not like I fucking cheated on you, Adelaide.”

The use of my full name in a moment like this ignites my temper, and my eyes flash up to his. “I’m not worried about what happened in the past, but I can’t not take it into consideration of what your actions will look like going forward.”

“Things have changed for me in the last twenty-four hours. It’s not every day the woman I love promises me forever.”

I huff a humorless laugh. “Well, forever didn’t last very long.” I hold my hand up when he tries to respond. “Stop, please. This whole conversation is making me mean, and I’m not a mean person. My heart is broken, shattered even, and I can’t do this right now.”

“Will you be able to forgive me?” I don’t look up at him when he sits in front of me on the bed, but I’m grateful he’s cautious enough not to touch me.

“Forgiveness isn’t a problem. There’s nothing to forgive. You’re right. We weren’t together, and even though there was some pain involved in what we’ve both done due to miscommunication, I can’t be mad at you.”

“Why does it sound like there’s a but coming.” His tone is weak, pleading, and my heart can’t take much more.

I choke back a sob and take a long minute as my shoulders shake from the overwhelming emotion of what comes next.

“Please talk to me,” he begs. “It destroys me when you cry.”

“I’m so sorry,” I tell him when I look up and see the tears staining his cheeks. “I can’t go home and pretend like I’m not going to worry every second of every day you’re with other women. I can’t live like that.”

“There’s no one but you. I swear. Please don’t leave me when I only had you for a day.”

“They throw themselves at you.”

“I can’t control that. There’s nothing I can do about that, but I promise I’ll never put myself in a compromising position with anyone.” He takes a breath, then continues. “I waited for you, didn’t touch a single chick the first leg of the tour, and came home to find you dating Marcus. I went off the rails when I heard you were back with him.”

I shake my head. “I never told you to wait. I told you to go live your dream.”

“You told me the same damn thing the second time, Addi, and now you’re breaking up with me for following through.”

I hang my head, knowing he’s right, and cry into my palms. His reasoning doesn’t change anything, though, no matter how much I wish it would.

“I love you,” he whispers.

“I know, and I truly believe you do. But you just said sex with other women isn’t a big deal for you. It’s too easy for you to justify and go through the mechanics of sex. When I leave knowing that, I’ll drive myself insane, whether you’re cheating or not. I’ll end up hating you.” I focus on his eyes. “I don’t want to hate you.”

“I don’t want to lose you,” he pleads.

“If we stay together, I’ll lose myself.”

He stands suddenly, panic on his face. Turning, he grabs jeans and a t-shirt, then shoves them on. “You just need some time to think, to work through this. I’ll go to practice and we can talk about it after the show. We can make this work. I know we can.”

His words come out in a frantic rush as he tries to assure himself everything will be just fine when the sun comes up tomorrow.

“Time isn’t going to make a difference.” He shakes his head as he tugs on his boots.

“It will. You’ll see.”

He leans in to kiss me, but I turn my head, allowing the soft brush of his lips to graze over my cheek.

“Car will be here at seven to get you.” He’s almost manic as he gives my shoulder a gentle squeeze.

“Okay,” I say, afraid if I tell him I’ll be long gone before it arrives, he’ll try to stop me.

“I love you,” he whispers before grabbing his wallet, phone, and keys to the rental car.

The soft click of the door shutting in the other room isn’t loud enough for the epic end of something that didn’t even begin.