His eyes narrow.
“You really do have your mind made up about me, don’t you?” he asks. Another deflection. Another non-answer. My heart constricts in my chest, but I ignore it.
While I walk around, I notice the signs that he’s moved his things in—toiletries in the hall bathroom, clothes in the closets—but like his dressing room the night we met, there’s nothing personal anywhere. No photos. No extra blankets or throw pillows in the living room or on any of the bunks.
While I look at the bed, I force myself to wonder if he has to sleep diagonally in it in order to fit his long frame, instead of all the things I know he could do to me in it.
“Which of your bags stays here?” He asks when I make my way back to the front of the RV where he’s waiting at the top of the stairs.
“Oh, I can get all that stuff,” I say, trying to go around him down the stairs. He steps in front of me, and I look up at him. He looks like he wants to say something, but thinks better of it, and steps aside to let me pass.
“Alright, I’ll just sit here like an asshole and wait while you do everything yourself.”
“Thank you,” I say, flashing a bright smile and pushing past him and down the stairs.
I walk outside to his truck, lower the tailgate, and being extra careful not to scratch the paint, set my largest suitcase on the ground before grabbing my backpack and slinging it over my shoulders.
I spend the next half hour listening to Velvet Shadows’ new album through my AirPods while I unpack the clothesand books I brought with me, before tucking my suitcase into one of the closets.
Eric has been waiting patiently in the kitchen at the table, scrolling through something on his phone.
“All settled?” he asks, as I lean against the fridge.
“I think so, yeah.”
“I’ll AirDrop you Dani’s number. Text her your grocery list and she’ll make sure everything gets picked up and put away before we pull out of here after the show tomorrow night.”
“That seems…unnecessary,” I say. “I can go shopping.”
“Assisting isliterallyDani’s job. Please let her do it. Otherwise, what the fuck am I paying her for?”
I laugh.
“Alright, fair enough.” We stare at each other for a few seconds, and I swear I physically feel a pull to move closer to him and have to force my feet to remain where they are.
“So,” I say, breaking the spell we seem to have found ourselves in. “Where are we eating?”
TEN
Eric
? All I Want – Kodaline ?
Sitting across from Tyler in this booth was a bad fucking idea.
Actually, being around Tyler at all is a bad fucking idea, yet here I am.
Around Tyler.
For the next six months.
It seems to be physically impossible for me to look at anything other than her. She’s just so…mesmerizing. No, that’s not enough. Stunning, radiant, utterly captivating—none of those words do her justice. She’s the kind of beautiful that steals the air from my lungs, that makes my heart stutter like it’s forgotten how to beat. I could spend a lifetime searching for the right words and still come up empty because nothing—no phrase, no description—could ever measure up to her.
We should have sat at the bar. Beside each other. Where I wouldn’t getcaught staring.
Repeatedly.
And, where I’d be closer to her.
