Page 31 of Worth Your Wild

Another loud knock at the door has Deke sighing, planting his hands on his hips for several beats, before he moves to the entrance “Might as well face the music.” He opens the door to reveal my uncle Sandy, his once blond hair faded into gray, his thin frame dressed in an old Brooks & Dunn T-shirt and ripped jeans. He takes one look at me and Deke, our bodies still in the final stages of exertion, and his face pales. “Jesus Christ, Deke. I thought even you had a little more honor than this. She’s less than half your age.”

“I need you to take a deep breath and listen, Sandy. This isn’t some sordid affair, despite how it looks.” He holds his hand out to me, winking, and I take it, weaving our fingers together. “This thing between me and June Bug⁠—”

“Oh, there is no ‘thing.’ Not on my watch.” He points a skinny finger at Deke. “She has a bright future ahead of her. The last thing she needs is to get mixed up with some down-and-out drunk whose best days are behind him.”

I can feel those words hit Deke like a physical blow. His wince breaks my heart, because it’s followed by a dimming of his eyes. It’s followed by shame.

“My God, I heard you both from the parking lot. What am I going to tell her mother?”

“You’re not going to tell her anything,” I say, attempting to squeeze life back into Deke’s suddenly bloodless hand. “I’m an adult and I’ll tell her when I’m ready.”

“Maybe you shouldn’t say anything,” frets Sandy. “After all, you’re going to go back to school and put all of this behind you.”

“No, I’m not,” I say, firmly. “Well, yes, I am going to go back to school, but I’m not putting Deke behind me. He’s…we’re…”

“You’re what?” Sandy prompts, impatiently. “Are you going to marry her, Deke?”

Deke’s chin snaps up, but it’s impossible to read what’s happening behind his darkened eyes. “Marry her? Are you out of your fucking mind?”

That outburst is a slap in the face. A cold bucket of water being dumped over my head. Marriage is a long way off, but I wouldn’t have expected him to react quite so opposed to the idea of marrying me. Not when he just told me I’m his addiction. That he couldn’t go five minutes without me.

“I’m not even sure about being her boyfriend yet,” he continues, looking down at our joined hands, then up at me. Conflicted.

Oh my God.

I’m such an idiot.

I’ve fallen in love with someone who just wanted to have sex with me.

I’ve made this relationship into something much more romantic than he did.

Feeling stunned and hollow, I drop Deke’s hand, ignoring him when he tries to take it back. “Hold on, June Bug. That didn’t come out right.”

“It’s okay. I understand. I’m…God, I feel so stupid.” I evade Deke’s attempt to grab me, quickly sidling past Deke and Sandy, out of the dressing room. Everyone backstage is standing there looking at me with abject sympathy. Am I just one in a long line of girls who fancied themselves in love with Deke Decker and started hearing wedding bells, only to realize their heads are in the clouds?

“June!”

Once again, I ignore Deke’s alarmed shout of my name and jog through the backstage area, ordering an Uber on my phone at the same time. Not an easy thing to do when my eyes are flooding with unshed tears. I don’t know where I’m going to go once I’m inside the Uber, because I’m in a strange city. What do I even enter as the destination?

With a sound of frustration, I drop the phone to my side and settle on walking. Walking until I’m somewhere I can cry alone⁠—

“June, goddammit,” growls a voice behind me, a split second before I’m hoisted off the ground. Into Deke’s arms. My feet are suspended in mid-air, my back confirmed to his powerful chest and I just go limp. I go limp and give in to the tears. “No, baby, no. Oh Jesus, I should be shot for making you shed a single tear. I’m sorry.” He squeezes me tight, laying kisses all over my head, neck and shoulders. “You’re going to listen to me now.”

“You said all the important stuff back there.”

“No, I did not.”

“I don’t want you to think I…I wasn’t thinking about getting married already, I swear.”

“Well, I was,” he roars. “I am.”

I’m stunned into silence, mid-sniffle. “To who?”

“To you, June. Are you really asking me that?” Deke, the picture of frustration, settles my feet onto the ground and turns me around in his arms. He makes a pitiful sound, using his thumbs to wipe away the moisture from my cheeks. “Baby, I will be marrying you. Nobody on this earth could stop me, you hear? I’m in love with you, June Bug. I’m lost for you.” He swallows hard and continues, without giving me a second to absorb his declaration. “But what Sandy said was right. I’m a washed-up drunk—and what I realized on stage tonight is, I don’t want to be that anymore. I don’t want to bring that part of me around you.”

“You won’t,” I whisper, shaken. Trapped between elated and nervous. What is he saying? “You are not a washed-up drunk.”

“Yes, I am, baby. And the cracks would start to show. Unless I take care of it.” He takes my face in his hands, his gaze running lap after lap around my face. “I’m canceling the rest of the tour to get sober. Will you wait for me?” His chest pitches up and down. “Please, I want to do this right. I want to do right by you. I want to make you my world with nothing to hold me back.”