Lydia claps my shoulder and gives me a light push with just enough pressure to propel me down the next step. “You want this to get over with? The only way out is through, and it’s going to be easier for all of us if you two play nice. Maybe, if you have some fun, it will fly by.”
“Judas,” I hiss.
“You know you need me,” she says, not in the way Emilia did that pricked at my skin, but with an earned tenderness.
“Unfortunately, without you, everything would go to shit.”
I climb down the remaining steps and walk to Wes. The sooner I get this over with the better.
“What’s with the ride? I’d expect you to pick something flashier, maybe with a vanity plate.”
He slaps his palm on the scuffed hood. The model must be a decade old. “You mean this, one of the most popular cars in LA? I thought you’d want something inconspicuous for our adventures.”
“You bought me a shitty car.” I fight the awe threatening to strike through my voice as an ache pulses in my chest.
“Excuse you, this beauty has a great safety rating, and I got the windows replaced with bulletproof glass.” He scoffs. “Don’t be surprised, I’m driving around precious cargo.”
“So, you’re really serious about that list?”
“You think I’d forget? That was only eight months, Avery. That’s nothing compared to the years I’ve been waiting to do this.”
Eight months. That’s how long it’s been, how long I asked him to allow me to have the space get my shit together. For the first few weeks I expected him to suddenly pop up again. At my apartment or one of the festival shows I played, or to get a call he’s decided to include himself somewhere uninvited. But he didn’t.
And the worst surprise—a part of me wishes he did.
“I guess I won’t make you wait any longer then.”
We leave the airport and are met with the unending stretch of LA traffic. Impatient horns punch through the air as we inch forward. I’m trapped unless I have the sudden urge to walk the highway on foot.
“How’ve you been? You’ve been out of the news, so it’s hard to stay up to date,” Wes asks.
“Checking the papers for me?”
“Every day.”
I’m joking around, but he isn’t and the knowledge that he’s been keeping an eye on me causes warmth to spread across my skin.
“It’s been harder than I expected. Not that I thought it would be easy, but when I did it the first time, I could run full force until it worked out. I keep second guessing myself. Wondering what other people might think. It’s hard to shake.”
“Sounds like my silly little list might be needed after all.” And there he goes with a flash of his stupid self-assured grin.
“Can I look at it?” It’s not like I have to admit that it could be a good idea.
Eight months have passed and I feel like I’ve barely laid the foundation for the life I want to have. Even with Lydia’s help, it’s exhausting work. I thought I could just slip back to being the girl I used to be, like pulling on a favorite pair of jeans. At eighteen I thought I knew everything, and I envy that fearless version of me.
But I’ve grown up and those jeans don’t fit anymore, no matter how hard I try to shimmy into them.
“Nope. I can’t risk you tossing it out the window.” He cocks a brow as if daring me to say I wouldn’t.
Finally, we pull off the highway toward wherever the hell he’s going as I collect my thoughts.
Leaning back in my seat, I cross my arms over my chest. “Fine. How have you been? I’m surprised I haven’t heard from you.”
“You asked for distance, and I wanted to show you that I could respect that.” He tightens his grip on the wheel, knuckles turning white. “I know this is my last chance and I’m not going to waste it.”
“You are different, you know.” I search his face like I’ll get an answer to why there. It’s like he’s taller somehow, more self-assured. Less like a sapling bending in the wind and more like an oak with deep roots.
“I’ve been going to therapy.”
