“Hang on, slow down. What are you actually asking me?”
Taryn shifted her bottle from one hand to the other. “I actually want to tell you something, but I’m being a chickenshit by trying to find out where you stand first.”
Cassie didn’t interject, and the silence grew like a presence in the room.
“I’m falling for you, Cassie.” Taryn gazed into her eyes and swallowed. “I was hoping we could build on what we’ve obviously got. You’re an amazing woman, and I’ve had such a wonderful time with you. Maybe there’s more to us than great friends with intergalactically phenomenal benefits. Maybe we could explore something…long term.”
Taryn glanced away, and her face flushed. What she’d said would’ve been everything Cassie would want to hearifTaryn didn’t personify everything that could split Cassie into a million pieces. “I’m sorry, Taryn, I can’t.”
Taryn’s shoulders sagged. She pressed her lips together and nodded slowly. “I understand. You did keep saying this was just casual.”
Cassie weighed the impact of telling the truth or keeping silent, and trying to figure out which Taryn would prefer, which would be the most comforting. “You don’t understand,” she said, deciding that Taryn deserved the truth. Honest was all they’d ever been with each other. “I care for you deeply, and my heart has gotten involved. And I thought that would be okay, that we could enjoy this time together, and then you’d leave, and what we’d had would be a special memory.” She grasped the stem of a rose, and its thorns pierced her skin, but she barely felt it. The pain in her heart and the visible hurt and confusion in Taryn’s eyes surpassed all physical stimuli.
“If you care for me, then I really don’t understand.” Taryn’s eyes glistened. “Why can’t we pick up where we were before the accident?”
Cassie pinched the bridge of her nose then pressed her palms to the cold surface of the counter. “It’s the accident that’s changed everything, Taryn. I thought I could ignore what you did for a career because we were just…” She stopped herself from saying,making love, and pressed on. “Because we were just having sex, and nothing more. But seeing you—hearing you scream… the other riders, the pain.” She clasped her hand to her chest. Her heart felt bruised, and she had to protect it. She couldn’t take any more. “It brought back everything I felt when my brother was killed. I can’t go through that again. It would break me, and I’m certain I couldn’t hold it together enough to go back to the ER again, to face more emergencies.” She inhaled deeply, but it did little to calm the incessant needles of nerves across every inch of her skin. “I can’t be your lover. I can’t even be your friend. I have to distance myself completely from you, or I’ll fall back into your arms. I can’t watch and wait for the next freak accident, for the crash that might kill you. I can’t be with someone who faces death with such a cavalier attitude.”
“But this is the first semi-serious accident I’ve ever—”
“It doesn’t matter.” Cassie gripped the edge of the hard marble surface so tightly that her knuckles went white. “I can’t live in the shadow of death anymore. And I would never ask you to give up what you love doing.”
Taryn frowned and put her head in her hands. “But what’s the point of living life if you’re not sharing it?” she muttered quietly.
Cassie narrowed her eyes. Something about the way Taryn said the words made them sound like they were packed with judgment. “You haven’t shared your life before. You can’t preach to me about quality of life just because you’re currently infatuated with me.” She thought of all the women Taryn had said fawned over her at the shows. “Whatever this is will fade once you go back to your life on the road. This has been a novelty, something to amuse you and take your mind off your dislike of staying in one place lest you grow roots or become attached to someone. You can’t begin to understand how I feel, how that car accident took so much of my life from me. You choose to be estranged from most of your family—mine was taken from me, and Mom just takes, because she blames everyone in her orbit for everything bad. I’m broken, Taryn, and no matter how hard I try, my past affects my present. The only way for me to move forward is to be with someone who values life, who doesn’t take it for granted.”
“You’re right. I don’t understand how it feels to lose a brother, but I’ve lost a close friend, so I know the pain of loss.” Taryn rose from her stool. “I don’t think you should compare our family situations. I won’t tolerate negative energy in my life from my parents; you shouldn’t judge my choice to be distant from my family just because you’re not strong enough to step away from yours.”
Cassie closed her eyes and fought back the tears that edged her closer to breaking down. “That’s exactly it, Taryn; I’mnotstrong enough. I’m not strong enough to stay involved with you, all the while dreading news of a fiery crash you didn’t survive. I can’t do it, and Iwon’tdo it.” She turned away and walked toward the window. “I need you to leave.”
“I’m sorry, Cassie. I shouldn’t judge you. I have no idea how hard that is for you. But it’s because I value life that I do what makes me happy, and I don’t waste it because of fear that it might end.”
Cassie felt Taryn’s presence behind her, but she resisted the overwhelming urge to turn into her embrace, to forego all her reservations and see where their path led them. “I’ve made up my mind, Taryn. Please respect that.” She wanted to take one last look into Taryn’s eyes, but she knew that if she did, she’d melt into Taryn’s arms, and they’d end up in bed. But it wouldn’t last. Cassie’s fears were too ingrained, too gargantuan to overcome. She had to push Taryn away. “Please go.”
She could practically feel Taryn’s hesitation, so Cassie remained motionless, staring out the window and imagining her feet were immovable concrete blocks.
“Okay,” Taryn whispered finally. “If that’s what you want, I’ll leave you alone. But you should know that this has been the best time of my life with you. If you ever change your mind, look me up.”
The soft squeak of Taryn’s boots indicated her retreat, and that was soon followed by the sound of Cassie’s front door closing. Cassie’s resolve deserted her, and she sank to the floor and wrapped her arms around her knees. She didn’t recognize the sob that escaped her, and she made no attempt to hold back the rest that followed. Her tears fell onto her silk skirt and soon soaked through to her thighs.
She let it all go. Her sorrow, her loss, the possibility of love. The fear of death had a choke hold on her future, and she could see no way to release it. No amount of therapy could help her prepare for another senseless and monumental loss. It was better this way. And now, without her mom too, Cassie was truly alone, and she could get back to her career, without distraction. She could save hundreds of lives over the next few decades; her life’s work could count for something. And by losing herself in that, she could also hope to bury her aching heart.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Taryn gingerly fist-bumped Fig and gritted her teeth a little at the resulting splash of pain across her chest. She smiled at everyone assembled to welcome her back. “Thanks, guys. It’s so great to see everyone back in the stadium, doing our thing, and giving our ever-eager audience what they paid for. Fig—fantastic job with the shows this week. You’ve done me proud. But if you don’t keep it up, I’ll be back here soon enough to kick your ass into shape.”
Gwen threw her an arch look. “You’ll have to go through me, Taylor.”
Taryn and the others laughed. “I’m only a little scared,” she said and winked.
Bernice pressed her hands together and nodded. “You’re all consummate professionals, and the way you’ve bounced back from this setback has blown me away. Thank you. Thank you for being you.”
“The show must always go on,” Andi said, and everyone cheered and began to disperse.
“I’m heading back to my trailer to rest for a while,” Taryn said. Andi opened her mouth to say something, but Taryn held up her hand. “I need to be alone. I’ll talk to you later.”
Andi nodded, and Taryn made her way back to their ever-expanding base using one of the many Teslas Bernice had been kind enough to loan her. The vehicles practically drove themselves, so even though her ribs still ached, and she’d been advised not to drive, it was a better and safer option than getting back on her bike, which she could barely wait to do.
Their impromptu get-together hadn’t been the celebration they’d had after their first week of shows, but Taryn was just grateful that they’d made it through four days without incident since they went live again. And the support they’d received from the stunt community and the wider Vegas performance community had stunned Taryn. Though she wouldn’t say it out loud, the sense of togetherness really vindicated Andi’s desire to have a home for the first time in their history. And no one, other than Taryn, seemed to be missing the road much. She expected that would change by the end of the six months—there were plenty of the team who had a similar outlook to hers when it came to roots—but for now, the noveltyandthe bulging paychecks with attendance bonuses were dulling that desire.
