Chapter 48
CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT
WYATT
The Las Vegas airport at two was a weird mix of people.
Girls in last night’s makeup mixed with tired tourists in Las Vegas merch.
The baggage claim was empty of anyone but the bright lights that welcomed their next victim.
Anders didn’t know if Julian would check a bag.
They always flew private. So there I stood, dodging blurry-eyed businessmen and excited bachelorettes, hoping to catch Julian.
As the crowd thinned, I worried I had missed him. Then I saw him. Hood pulled down low over a hat. The weight of everything on his shoulders. He stopped when he saw me.
“You’re here,” he said as his bag hit the ground.
“I am.” He looked tired.
“I got into a fight.”
“I see that.” He had a black eye and tiny stitches in his brow.
“Then I got suspended.”
“I quit my job.”
“You didn’t have to.”
I stepped closer to him. “I love you.”
He pulled me into his embrace and into whatever life Julian and I would start here in the bright lights of the baggage claim of the Las Vegas airport.
* * *
Julian fell asleep before we crossed the California state line.
Four hours later, the sun was just turning the sky pink as we pulled into Silver Creek, a small gold rush town at the base of the Sierra Nevada mountains and on the edge of the Sierra National Forest. It was far away from anything or anyone that would care who the man stretched out in the seat next to me was.
I turned onto Main Street. It had recently snowed, giving the small town a magical feel.
It had been months since I’d been back. Which was why I had thought about selling it.
Jerry, my caretaker, made sure the heat was on and shoveled the wooden stairs to my apartment.
I pulled in behind the Silver Creek General Store and Outfitters.
“Julian.” I touched his arm. He jumped awake, blinking at me in confusion before realizing where he was. “You okay?”
“Yeah.” He sat up, rubbing his face. “I guess I fell asleep. Sorry. Fuck, it’s, like, five in the morning. Are you okay?”
“I’m fine. We’re here.” I nodded out the windshield.
“And where is here?”
“My soft place to land.” Outside, the air was crisp and clean. Frost glittered on everything. Julian grabbed the bags and followed me up the steps. Inside, the warm coziness of the apartment greeted us. I tossed the keys on the counter and did a quick walk-through of the one-bedroom apartment.
“You own this?” Julian said, toeing off his shoes.
“Yep, and the outfitters below,” I said, clicking on the lamp in the bedroom.
The king-size bed looked inviting with its mismatched bedding and wool blankets.
The curtain had been opened, letting in the red glow from the outfitters’ neon sign that shone in.
That had been my only upgrade to the building—that and a new roof. I guess I needed neon to fall asleep.
I checked the master bathroom, the only bath in the place.
It was small, with a tub shower combo, pedestal sink, and toilet.
The penny tile was original, and so was the cracked frosted glass window.
It needed an update, but for the next three weeks, it would be home.
No one knew this place existed. Not even Maverick.
“What do you think? I know it’s not as grand as the place in Reno.
But there’s no toilet in the middle of the room.
And no one knows we’re here.” The rest of the place was open concept.
The kitchen ran along the back wall. It was small, but I didn’t need much.
The walls were the original brick and plaster.
The living area still had the large windows that looked out onto Main Street.
There were two smaller rooms off the living area.
The rooms hadn’t been refinished and lacked heating.
So Jerry put large sheets of insulation over the door to help keep the heat in.
“How did you know?” Julian didn’t look at me.
“Anders called me.” I leaned against the counter. “What happened?”
Julian blew out a breath. “I got my fourth major. Did you really quit?”
“Yep.”
“You didn’t have to. I told you—”
“Are you fucking serious right now?” So help me god, if this man gave me the “it’s your job” line, I would give him another black eye.
“What?”
“I didn’t have to quit? You’re really okay with me fucking other men. Being forced on my knees and their cock shoved down my throat. You’re okay with that?”
“Not when you put it that way,” he yelled.
“What way do you want me to put it?” I yelled back.
“Not that way.” He ran his hand over his face.
“Julian.”
“What?” He wouldn’t look at me.
“Say it. Say, ‘I’m okay with it. I’m okay with the woman I claim to love fucking other men!’ Say it, and I’ll call up Maverick right now. I’ll book a trip to New York this weekend. Say it!”
“Claim? I do love you!” he shouted back. “It kills me to think about that. I hate it.”
“Then why didn’t you tell me?”
“And then what? Were you going to follow me around from city to fucking city as I try to figure this out?”
“Yes! Gladly,” I shouted at him. “I’m not her, Julian. Stop making me pay for her mistakes.” I leaned against the counter, watching my words hit him. “Why would you think I wouldn’t?”
“I don’t want you to get lost in my life. I don’t want you to wake up one morning and realize that…”
“That what?”
“That it’s just me. Christ, Wyatt, I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing. My career is ending, and I don’t know who the fuck I am. If I can’t play, then what? What will happen to us?”
“Why would anything happen to us?” I waited for him to say something. “You still think I’m here because of your career?” I shook my head, fighting the tears of frustration.
“Everyone else is.” Julian wouldn’t look at me. The muscle in his jaw flexed.
“I’m not everyone.” Outside, the city of Silver Creek was waking up. The muffled sound of people filtered up.
“I’m scared. I’m scared of losing you. My career. Everything feels so out of fucking control right now.” He looked down at his hands. There were cuts on his knuckles, and two of his fingers were taped up.
That I understood. “And you think I got it all figured out?”
The corner of his mouth turned up in a half smile. “More than I do.”
I walked over to him and pressed my forehead to his chest. “I promise I don’t.
” I had no idea where I was going to live, how I was going to support myself.
Those things should’ve been concerning, but they could wait.
I lifted my head. “I don’t care if you play hockey or sell overpriced bottles of water at Caesars Palace.
I will still love you. You made a promise in the setting sun, remember?
You said you’d stay. Have you changed your mind? ”
“God, no.” He cupped my face. “I’m sorry. I’m so very sorry.”
“Me too.” I kissed the palm of his hand. “You look like shit.”
“I feel like shit.”
“Come on.” I led him to the bedroom and pulled back the blankets. It had been a long twenty-four hours, and I wanted to put this all behind us and move forward. Nothing good ever came from dragging the past up.
“I love you, Wyatt. It’s the only thing I know. Please don’t ever doubt that,” he said, pulling me into his embrace.
“I know.” I pressed a kiss to the top of his head. We had three weeks to figure this out. Us. What our lives looked like when the spotlight dimmed and it was just us left in the quiet after.