Chapter 28 #2
I open my mouth to repeat it, because it’s true, but reality punches me in the gut. ‘How?’ I whisper instead, tears forming in my eyes. ‘How does that even work?’
A muscle jerks in his jaw, as he stares right back. ‘We make it work.’
‘I live here, you live—everywhere.’
‘That’s just excuses.’
‘No, it’s a perfectly valid consideration.’
He drags a hand over his jaw. ‘You’re scared.’
I look away, toward the street.
‘I hurt you, and you’re scared. You’re scared you’re gonna get hurt, like with Kirk.’
‘Kirk,’ I shake my head in harsh denial, ‘was nothing to how I felt in Phoenix.’
He moves forward, wrapping his hands around mine, lifting them between us. ‘That’s because of what we are, what we mean to each other. That’s not going to happen again.’
‘You can’t promise me that.’
‘Promise you’ll never have a reason to doubt me?’
‘It wasn’t your fault.’ A tear slips out of my eye. ‘That’s not why it hurt so much.’
Sympathy twists his features. ‘Yeah, that’s true.
’ He lifts one hand to my cheek, strokes his thumb over my tears.
‘You were in love with me, and I kept saying stupid shit about this thing running its course, and that we were just sleeping together. I couldn’t have been more of a jackass if I’d tried. ’
I can’t smile. Tears keep falling from my eyes. So, he knows. He’s seen inside my heart, read the truth there.
‘You were being honest about how you felt.’
‘No, Bailey. I was lying. To myself, and to you. Ash was right. I push everyone away, and I was trying to do that, right to the end, telling myself you were no different, that this thing with us was just temporary and casual, like we’d agreed. But that’s so stupid, and so wrong.’
‘Then what is it?’
‘Hell, I’ve never told a girl I love her before, and this is not the kind of place I would have imagined doing it,’ he mutters, glancing around at the city streetscape, then back to me, his lips tilting with the hint of a grin.
The kind of grin that lights up his beautiful face.
‘I love you. And it doesn’t matter where I say it, where you are, where I am, I will always love you, more than anything else on earth. ’
My lips part on a rush, my heart bangs into my ribs. The caution that has kept me safe for three years, that always tells me to run away, rushes through me, but I ignore it. I don’t need it now.
He stares down at me, eyes boring into mine. ‘The last line in your article—’
I remember it vividly.
‘That’s what really got through to me. You were right about almost everything in my life, but not this. I was still running scared from you, Bay Jay, like I could control this. Like I could ever get over you.’ He rubs his thumb over my lower lip. ‘Only, that’s never going to happen.’
Finally, I let out a soft laugh, and my body relaxes with absolute sheer relief. ‘You have no idea how glad I am to hear it.’
He looks at me, something like doubt on his features, and I realise he’s done almost all the talking, all the guessing about my feelings. I realise I haven’t actually told him he’s right.
‘Falling in love with some cowboy was not on my bingo list for the year, you know.’
The hint of a grin on his face turns into a full-blown Beau Donovan trademarked smile, and my pulse goes into overdrive. ‘So you do love me,’ he says, like he needs to hear it again.
‘I can shout it from the rooftops if that makes you believe it.’
He draws me against him. ‘Or scream it at me later?’ he suggests, dropping his mouth to mine. A familiar stirring of need washes over me, vying for attention with the love that’s surging in my body.
‘Later?’ I murmur. ‘What’s that expression? There’s no time like the present …’
His eyes flare but he throws a glance toward my building. ‘After work?’
I shake my head, press my hand to his chest. ‘I was only going in for a meeting. To resign, in fact.’
His expression is cautiously guarded. ‘You’re quitting?’
‘Calm down, cowboy. It has nothing to do with you. My editor put me on another BS sports article. I’m never going to get to cover Washington if I stay here.’ I don’t tell him that after years of chasing that dream, I no longer know if it’s right for me.
‘What are you going to do?’ he asks.
I shake my head. An idea has loosely formed in my mind, but it’s too embryonic to share. ‘I’m not one hundred per cent sure yet.’
‘So you can take some time to work it out?’
‘I mean, I have savings,’ I say. ‘I learned that the hard way—always have a get-out-of-town stash.’
He nods, expression serious. ‘So you could just … travel around for a while.’
My heart stammers. ‘I mean, I could.’
‘Travel around with a cowboy who loves you with all his heart? Work out what the future will look like for the two of us?’
My lips part in surprise.
‘I know you said it had nothing to do with me, but maybe it could?’
I close my eyes as the vision he’s painted takes perfect shape in my mind. ‘I … could make that happen,’ I say, every part of me soaring.
‘I’ll tell you what. You go in there and hand in your notice. When you’re done …’
‘When I’m done, we’ll start planning what comes next.’
‘We’ll start planning the rest of our lives.’ He wraps his arms around me and draws me close. ‘You are the air I breathe, Bailey James.’
‘I’m damned pleased to hear that.’
There’s something funny about dreams, you know.
Something I never understood fully until now.
They’re not there to hold you firmly to a plan, but rather, to keep you moving in a direction.
Following a path to become a political journalist got me out of my post-ballet funk.
It gave me hope when I needed it most, but it’s a dream that no longer serves me.
And the person I’ve got to thank for helping me understand that is, of course, Beau—who else?
No, this isn’t some advertisement for becoming a trad wife.
That’s not for me either. But going to the ballet with Beau was a seminal moment for me: a true turning point.
I like to think I can do anything I want on my own, but the truth is, I don’t know if I ever would have gone back in to watch a ballet performance without him pushing me.
That’s the thing about your true partner, your soulmate.
The right person helps you live up to what you deserve; they inspire you to be your best self.
They’re the wind at your back, the steel in your spine.
Pushing through that barrier and going to the ballet made me realise how much I’ve missed it, and that there’s a way to combine my love of journalism with my passion for—and knowledge of—ballet.
The idea doesn’t clarify immediately though. It’s more organic than that. As Beau and I travel state to state for his events, I start to notice things. Signs for performances, events that are local to whichever city he’s in, and an itch begins to develop that I just know I have to scratch.
I start slow. Over the next year, I write a few freelance reviews of cultural performances and submit them to major national papers.
Want to know the other funny thing about having Beau in my life?
I’ve stopped trying to prove everything to everyone, because the one person I care about most in the world thinks I’m pretty goddamn awesome.
I don’t need to keep running from my dad’s reputation, because I no longer care about earning a place in his world.
I’m just doing my own thing, being true to myself, and the groove I’ve found my way into is exactly where I need to be.
Beau doesn’t win the championship that year, but he comes third overall. Which still earns him an insane amount of prize money, and the fact is, winner or not, his charm and rugged good looks mean he’s tripping over sponsorship offers.
I dread the thought of another year. I mean, I love being on the road with him, but watching him take part in those events never did get easier. I don’t say anything to him though. For all that he’s my future, he has to make his own choices in life, and I’ll support him.
So when he comes to me before the next season starts up and tells me he’s hanging up his boots, so to speak, I know the decision is all his own, and I welcome it with my whole entire heart.
I welcome it with every cell in my body, just like I do the future—whatever it brings—because we’ll be sharing it.
THE END