“Tyler,” I fuckingwhineas I move to my ass, holding my aching foot. Damnit… “Just…Pleaselet me explain.”
“What?” He turned around when he heard me falling, now looking down at me, squinting at the sun that’s lighting up his face. “What’s left to explain? You explained that you’re sorry. Fine, whatever. Justgo,okay?”
“I don’twantto go,” I say, pleading with him. “I don’twantto break up. I mean it; tell me about the video calls. Tell me we can be together without actually being together.”
His eyes flick to my foot and instant worry makes some of the anger fade away. “You’re bleeding.”
“No shit, Sherlock.” I poke the piece of seashell that’s sticking out, wincing in pain when I do.
“Don’t touch it, idiot.” Tyler falls down on his knees in front of me, swatting my hands away and inspecting the gash. “Why the hell don’t you have any shoes on?”
“Because I couldn’t wait a second longer to tell you how freakingwrongI was,” I say, and he swallows, the sadness pouring off of him. “I’m sosowrong. And so sorry for hurting you. I don’t want to hurt you, ever. I want tobewith you. In whatever way I can. I handled this all wrong.”
His hands are warm on my foot, and when he finally,finally,looks up I see a sliver of hope there, an opening.
“Tell me we can do this,” I whisper, my hands clenching in the sand.
“It’s three months, Jace. People survived worse. Of course we can do this.”
I hold on to the hope that's burning in my chest. “But it can be more than three months, babe,” I repeat my earlier comment. I want him to know every detail, to be sure that we know what we’re getting ourselves into. “I called my dad.” Tyler's eyebrows rise at that. “Yeah, I know. But if you have a lawyer in the family, use it, right? He’s on his way to Los Angeles, he says he has business here anyway. We signed the basic contract with Six of Heart’s record label for the tour, but he’s already making stipulations and such if it would come to more than that. Madden believes that’ll happen soon. He messaged me yesterday.”
“So when Madden reaches out, you do reply?” he asks with a bite in his tone, and when I go to answer, he yanks the piece of shell out.
“Fuckity fuck,” I swear on a wince. “Deserved that.Shit.”
“Yeah, you did.” He presses his thumb on the wound, and sighs. “It’s not deep. When do you have to perform? You shouldbe fine to hop around on a stage in a couple of days.” He’s calmer now, so I’m hoping that this means we still have a shot.
“Sunday,” I answer. “We’re leaving for Los Angeles tonight. Madden invited us to stay the night there, play some more music. Tomorrow, my dad will meet us to hash things over, and then we fly off to the East Coast in the afternoon.”
“That’s fast.” The devastation in his face iskillingme, so I yank my foot out of his hands and crawl into his lap, my legs on either side of him. I throw my arms around his neck, pushing the damn cap of his head so I can delve my fingers in his soft,amazinghair. And thank fuck he hugs me back, his broad arms tight around me. Where they belong.
He’s shaking again. Just like me. Our faces in each other's necks, holding on so damn tight.
“I’m sorry,” I repeat for the dozenth time. “Won’t happen again. Promise.”
“Just hold on to your promise, okay?” And then hekissesme below my ear.
I fucking shudder at the contact, not all hope is lost.
“I know. Iknow,” I say against the soft skin of his neck before lifting my head and looking him dead in the eye. “I just freaked. I’ve never loved someone before. Not likethis.I don’t know how to do this. How to have a long-distance relationship.”
“Me neither. But we should figure that outtogether.It’s not the damn nineties anymore. We live in a digital era. There are ways to stay in contact. A lot of ways.”
Nodding again, I give him a peck on his soft lips. “Do you forgive me then?”
“Fucking duh.” He rubs his big hands across my back, and I take in my gorgeous man. Who, thank fuck, stillismy gorgeous man. “But justtalkthe next time you’re having a mental breakdown, okay? Don’t pull back.”
“I won’t,” I swear, and let out some tension on a heavy breath. “I’ll do better.”
“Good,” he says, but then lifts his brows. “Who was going to take care of the ducks?”
“I was hoping you,” I say, giving him my sweetest smile.
His eyes narrow. “So you first breakup with me and then you’d expect me to take care of your damn animals?”
I shrug. “Technically, they’re notmyanimals.”
“Fuck you, Jace. You know they are. You’re basically their mother, you’re leaving them, too.”
