“Of what would happen if it all ended for me. If I’d blow up and lose my shit—on you.” Even thinking it soured my stomach. Bile churned and my mouth filled with pre-puke saliva. She’d worried I’d hurt her even more than I already had, and I hated that she’d probably been right.
Pain ripped across her face and her lips trembled, nostrils flaring. “Maybe a little bit. I’m sorry.”
I ran my hand over the back of my neck, pressing down with my thumb to ease some of the pressure.
“It was smart, what you did.” My jaw clenched and swiped my chin back and forth. The stories I’d told myself at the beginning of our summer had been a prime example of why I’d had no business trying to start anything with her.
“I get it.” Staring into her eyes, I needed her to know how much I truly did. “I was way more broken than you had super glue for. Expecting what we had to fix any of the shit broken inside of me wasn’t fair to me or you. There was only going to be so long you could’ve held me together before I lost it. Before I ripped straight through your life and mine and left you trying to put the fires out on the flaming pile I created in my wake.
“I don’t blame you for running, Bay. I forgive you for running. Because it was probably the only thing that could have kept me from becoming everything I’d ever hated.”
A sound caught in her throat and she covered her mouth with both hands, tears overflowed and streamed down her cheeks. Her body lurched.
Behind me there was the twin sounds of chairs shooting back across the carpet and cracking into wood.
The old tingle crept up my spine, the one that made me want to face the incoming threat. Six years ago, I would have clenched my fists at my sides until blood pounded in my veins and the fog descended. Instead, I laid my hands flat on the table and kept alert, but not racing for the edge.
Bay glanced up with watery eyes and waved her hand, calling off her guard dogs. She grabbed a handful of napkins and rubbed them down her face, until red splotches covered her cheeks. Her shuddering breaths rattled the table.
“I was a codependent mess back then, shoving every feeling I had deep down until it was only a matter of time before it exploded and I repeated the same mistakes all over again.” I’d been a fucked up kid playing pretend, almost flushing his future down the drain.
“I’ve been trying to convince myself for so long that I did the only thing I could have, but in my heart—in my heart I’ve never truly forgiven myself for what I did.” She rested her hand, gripping the damp napkins on the table.
I ran my fingers over her knuckles, wanting to pick up her hand and press my lips against it. I wanted to make it all better. Her smooth tear-soaked skin was warm under my touch. Realizing what I was doing, I pulled back and dropped my hands into my lap.
A man stepped up to the side of the table. “Sorry to interrupt, but I wasn’t sure if it was you until just now. My daughter is a huge fan. Could I have your autograph?” He shoved a pen and napkin in front of her.
Like he couldn’t see we were having a conversation. Like she hadn’t just been crying.
Bay’s eyes widened, and she stared up at him like he’d asked for a kidney before slipping the mask back on. I could see the cracks. The red ringed eyes. The watery smile.
The way she switched told me this happened to her a lot. It pissed me off for her and hit a part of me that wanted to tell this guy to back off and leave her alone.
“Of course. Who should I make it out to?” She took the pen and paper from his hand.
He cleared his throat. “To Michael.”
This asshole showed up while she was crying to get an autograph for himself. I unclenched my hands under the table and smoothed them down my legs, locking my gaze on to Bay. One signal and I’d get this guy out of here.
But she didn’t signal. She pushed ahead with her lips molded into that plastic smile. Keeping her head down, she signed her name with a flourish and added in the personalization at the top.
“Could I get a picture too?”
She pushed her chair back. “Sure—”
“Sorry.” Holden, the same guy from backstage at the concert, jumped in. He’d obviously known this had gone too far. He was the one to draw the line that Bay didn’t seem able to draw for herself. “Bay’s got to head off right now. But if you give me an address, we can send a VIP backstage tour swag pack to you--your daughter.” He handed his card to the man, who kept looking over his shoulder as he walked away.
“Bay, we can move this to the suite, if that’s okay with you.” He tilted his head toward the windows facing the hallway. It swarmed with people. When I’d come down the hallway earlier, no one had been out in the vestibule area.
Now hotel security stood shoulder-to-shoulder, holding people back. The elevator doors opened and even more people poured out. Some came running down the hallways.
“Can we finish this in my suite? It’s massive, not like a hotel room or anything. It’ll just be quieter.” She checked over her shoulder.
I wanted to shield her, to snap every phone pointed in her direction. Not because they were taking pictures, but because of her obvious discomfort. Couldn’t they see she wasn’t in the mood right now? She’d put on a brave face and tough it out, but her eyes were still puffy and red.
As bad of an idea as going to her suite was, I wanted her out of here.
Cell phones from all those inattentive businessmen came out. Whether they knew who she was or not, they knew something was going on, and we were the only two who didn’t fit the profile of a normal visitor.
I wanted to get her out of here, to sweep her up and carry her away from all the eyes on her. That was precisely why this needed to be a one-time conversation to clear up old wounds. She didn’t need me running in to save her from her own life.
“Sure.”
Her shoulders relaxed and I was treated to a small smile that wasn’t the least bit watery. “Great, and sorry about this. I know you probably get hounded too, though.”
Flashes went off, and the security guards were quickly getting overwhelmed. Concern for her safety—not just now, but all the time—ratcheted up. Uneasiness coiled deep in my gut imagining her life like this all day, every day.
“Not like this.” Sports fans were rabid, especially after winning the championship last year. But none of the girls and women being held back now spared me a second glance.
Holden popped up behind Bay. “Follow me. We’ll duck in through the kitchen into the staff elevator and get off on another floor, then double back to the penthouse elevator.
Bay looked to me and nodded.
“Let’s go.”
Holden took the lead with a member of the hotel staff and another two hotel security guards coming up behind me. Emily took the position behind Holden, and Bay and I walked side by side.
“Sorry about this.” Bay leaned over and whispered once we were on the staff elevator. “It’s an occupational hazard.” The nervous smile did nothing to soothe my agitation over how quickly that clusterfuck had happened.
“This happens anytime you go out?”
“I don’t go out much.”
We walked through the deserted hotel floor to another bank of elevators. “I can see why.”
Another set of elevator doors opened before our car arrived, and screams ripped through the enclosed space.