“It was,” she says. “But somewhere along the way, it stopped being just an easy…” She bites her lip and looks at me with flushed cheeks.
I chuckle. “An easy fuck? Sugar, you were never that to me. You never could be.”
“Hunt, you know you’ve always meant the world to me. But the sexwaseasy,” she says.
“I guess when you know someone as well as we did, getting to know each other as adults just kind of fell into place.” I cup her cheek in my hand. “I’ll miss you, Princess. My house is going to feel awfully quiet when I get home tonight.”
A single tear leaves her eye, and I catch it in my hand.
“Don’t cry.” I wrap her up in my arms. “You’re following your dream. That’s nothing to be sad about.”
She presses her lips to mine. “You’re worth crying over, Hunt. Being with you has changed my life. You truly healed me. And I can’t thank you enough for that.”
I love you.
Instead of words, I kiss her long and hard. When she steps out of the truck and I watch her walk away, emotion clogs my throat. I put the truck into gear and drive off, realizing this is the first time since the night I lost my dad that I’ve allowed myself to truly grieve for someone.
CHAPTERTWENTY-FIVE
Winter
My alarm goes off for I don’t know how long before I reach out my hand and bang it until it stops beeping at me.
I open one eye and check the time.
Ten a.m.
I’ve got rehearsal this afternoon, but I need to go over my lines this morning.
I force myself out of bed and into the shower. This bathroom is beautiful; thanks to Pat, my entire living space feels luxurious. One of his other clients took a job in Los Angeles for a guest role on a popular television show, and her two-bedroom was lying vacant.
Pat talked her into giving me a great deal. In other words, rent is still ridiculously expensive, but now I can make it work. My salary as the lead in a popular Broadway show is impressive. It’s the most money I’ve ever made in my life.
My cast members are friendly and inclusive. I wouldn’t call us besties because it always seems like everyone here is one stressed-out moment away from a catfight. But we get along, and that’s been a huge relief.
My phone rings as I’m stepping out of the shower. I brace when I see Peyton’s name flash on the screen.
“Hey,” I say to her in a guarded tone. “How are you?”
“I was going to ask you that,” she says with a laugh.
“I’m fine,” I say quickly. “Tell me about you.”
“I’ve been telling you about me every time we talk, and then you say you have to go before we get to you. So, I’m going to go fast today—I’m great. Scott’s great. New Orleans is great. But what about you?”
I stare out the window of my high-rise apartment building. All I can see in the distance are more high-rises. When I look down, the cars zipping by look like ants from this distance.
“I’m fine,” I say again. “Work is good. The musical is everything I thought it would be.”
“So why do you sound so miserable?” she asks me.
I knew she’d see right through me. That’s why I’ve kept our phone calls so brief whenever she’s called.
“I don’t know,” I say finally. “I guess because I miss Hunter.”
“Speaking of, you two haven’t talked at all?”
“No. We can’t do long distance. It’s Hunter and me—I don’t know, I guess whatever it was we had when I was home was never meant to last.”
