35. Take Care #3
For a while, there was only the sound of city noise below, muffled by double-pane glass and the soft whoosh of central air. I could've stayed like that all week, but I saw something on her face—an edge, a thought she was working up the nerve to say.
She said, "You know it's going to get ugly if some story hits and they just…pretend it doesn't exist. The fans are going to know something is up."
"I can handle them," I said. "It's not like they can cancel you. You're uncancelable. The worse of them, anyway."
She gave me a slow, sly smile. "That's what you think."
"I know," I replied. "And besides, I got your name in the paperwork. Mikki can't ever touch you again."
Her eyes widened. "You did?"
"Had to. Couldn't let them come for you like they came for me." I shrugged, but my heart was beating in my throat. "Not after everything."
She went quiet, then reached over and took my hand. Her grip was strong, almost possessive. "There's something I haven't told you yet," she said.
My pulse sped up. "Okay?"
She leaned in, voice soft. "I had my team destroy that verse about you. The whole master, every backup, even the A&R's Dropbox. There's nothing left."
It took me a second to process. "You deleted the verse?! That was gonna be a hit, Romi."
She shrugged, all bravado, but I saw her swallow. "Wouldn't have been worth it. Not if it meant hurting you again."
"Romi," I said, and stopped. The word she wasn't saying was right there, and it knocked me flat.
Because she'd been saying it the whole time.
Not loud, not where anyone could screenshot it.
In the verse she buried instead of dropping.
In security walking past me that night. In every door she held open without making me watch her do it.
I'd spent my whole life waiting to be loved at a volume I could hear, and missed that she'd been telling me the only way she knew how.
A number-one record, killed so it couldn't be used against me. That was Romi at full volume.
I stared at her, fingers locked around mine. And then that wasn't enough. I'd never in my life managed to want something and stay quiet about it, and I wasn't about to learn how now, not with this precious thing we found.
"I love you," I said. First time I'd ever said it out loud. "I don't know how to love you quietly, but I do love you, Romi."
She smiled, but there was wet in her eyes now, and she blinked fast to hide it. "Don't get all sentimental on me, Wolfe."
"You started it," I said, bringing our joined hands to my lips. "I love how soft you get when we're alone. But I also love that you're also not the one or the two and will have someone escorted out of parties for breathing too close to your table. Pure poetry. Very sexy."
I laughed, but before I could say anything else, Romi leaned in and kissed me, soft and close. "I love you too," she whispered against my mouth.
I tasted salt before I understood why. Her tears, dropping against my lips, and she still wasn't pulling back.
And I thought about her name on that paperwork, how she'd gone still when I told her, like nobody had ever put themselves between her and the thing coming for her before.
The way she said it now made me wonder if she'd ever had someone who didn't play about her at all.
Thought about putting her name on different paperwork, in the box right next to mine.
I brought her hand back to my mouth and kissed it. She looked like she was trying hard not to melt and failing bad at it.
We sat like that, her head on my shoulder, my thumb tracing slow circles on the back of her hand.
The city outside faded to white noise. In another life, this would've been the end of the movie.
Soft lighting, slow fade, credits rolling over two messy girls who figured out how to let themselves be happy.
Instead, she pulled back enough to look at me, then said, "Are you actually staying for the whole week?"
I grinned, teeth bared. "Babe, I packed my weirdest pajamas and socks just to give you the premium deluxe Cam experience!"
She snorted. "Lord, help me."
"Better get used to it," I said. "I'm gonna eat all your cereal and leave the milk out just for the drama while sending you Pixogram memes from the other room."
She shoved me, gentle, but linked our fingers together. "Get out of my apartment."
I stretched until I could rest my head on her shoulder. "You're still holding my hand."
She rolled her eyes, then stroked my hair. Her smile was the sun breaking through the clouds. "Don't push it."
We watched TV in silence, something dumb and brightly animated.
I wasn't paying attention anymore. I was too busy memorizing the sound of her laugh, how her body curved around mine, the soft rhythm of her breathing, and the way it sounded when it slowed.
I closed my eyes and tried to burn the moment into my brain forever.
The sun slid behind the skyline, turning the windows gold. The light hit my bag parked by the door, like a pet waiting to be let inside.
For once, I didn't feel like a guest. I felt like I belonged there, right by her side.
She let me stay. More than that, she let me in.