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“Maybe we should do it half the time.”
“That’s what I offered. You were sure we had nowhere to live in Little Memphis,” York said, growing irritated. “Just tell me what you want.”
“I want to be with you in my home,” I said through tears. “I don’t want you to give up your club. I don’t want me to give up mine. I don’t know how to make that work.”
“Because it can’t. We knew that. It’s why we stayed away from each other for so long. Our living situation has always been the elephant in the room.”
Wiping my tears, I knew York was right. But that didn’t change how I felt.
“I don’t hate it here. I like this house, and Junior already feels like mine. But I’m homesick, and Baton Rouge doesn’t feel safe.”
“We rushed into moving in together,” York said, lingering near the door. “We felt pressured to take this huge leap after you nearly died. We weren’t ready, and this is the result.”
York sounded so defeated. I knew he wasn’t saying we were over, but that’s how his words felt to me. Would moving slower really make any difference? If our relationship didn’t work now, why would it work better in a few months or years?
“I need to think,” York said and headed for the door.
“No.”
“I need to ride for a while.”
“I can’t ride!” I cried, panicked over him leaving me alone. “I can’t drive! I’m stuck here! It’s not fair for you to leave!”
York ran his hands through his hair and avoided my gaze. For the first time, I saw the man who chose to live a solitary life. This was the guy who bailed on his family and hometown for the military. Until we met, he had been satisfied with few responsibilities in his life. As his hand reached for the doorknob, he was reconsidering his ability to handle so many commitments.
“I’ll be back,” York said and opened the front door. “We’ll figure things out.”
Holding my tongue was against everything I stood for, but I remained silent as he left. Junior watched York go before settling next to me. I stroked the nervous dog to keep him from hiding somewhere.
My phone sat on the table, tempting me with an escape from my situation. One call to my parents, brother, or friends, and I’d get a ride home. I wouldn’t be ending things with York. I just needed a break from living in Baton Rouge. Nothing would be over.
Yet, I didn’t make any calls. If I asked someone to pick me up, my relationship with York would definitely suffer. He was already running away by needing to ride around town to think. If I bailed, I didn’t know if we’d trust each other well enough to make this relationship work.
Rather than obsess over York and me breaking up, I pretended I couldn’t leave because Junior needed my consistent presence. Like York, Junior had trust issues. They both craved more connections, but worried about letting anyone close. Well, the dog loved me, and I wasn’t leaving him.
Rather than pick up my phone to call someone, I started playing a game. I had barely begun when I heard York’s motorcycle return to the garage.
I considered acting casually when he entered the room. Since he would never believe my nonchalant behavior, I stared at him. York dropped onto the couch next to me.
“I rarely feel regret,” he said and glanced at me. “But I knew riding away would be something I’d look back at and want to do over. So, I came back.”
“Now what?”
“You should visit your parents in Rawlins. If you give me a few days to get things together, I can go with you.”
Inching closer, I couldn’t erase the pout on my face. “I don’t hate it here.”
“I know.”
“I’m just homesick, and you aren’t here all the time.”
“This all happened because Alabama upset you.”
Knowing he was partially right, I mumbled, “She meant well.”
“Yeah, but she got you thinking about those assholes. Not just the dead ones but their families. Baton Rouge doesn’t feel as safe now.”
Nudging him, I asked, “Are you mad?”
