Chapter 38
Elli
The next morning at the ass crack of dawn, we load up the rest of our luggage, lock up my apartment and head out. We stop at the Espresso Express for coffee before making the eleven hour journey to today’s destination: Albuquerque, New Mexico.
We don’t talk a lot, I’m still raw from my conversation with my mom yesterday, and Wes seems nervous even if he’s saying he’s not.
My phone pings three hours into our journey and I see it’s a text from my mom.
Mom: Spencer wants you to be there at his luncheon. We’ll see you on Sunday.
I huff out a disbelieving laugh, and Wes looks over from the driver’s side with a questioning look on his face.
“Mom just texted me that she’ll see me Sunday because Spencer wants me there.” I lean my head back against the headrest and take a deep breath. “It’s like she doesn’t even care, or realize how hurtful she was yesterday.”
Wes’s hand that’s sitting on my thigh squeezes gently. “I’m sorry baby. At least Spencer wants you there, right?”
“Yeah…” I trail off, thinking now about Wes and how he’s acting. “Are you okay? You seem a bit off. If you’re nervous, I get it, and I’d like to talk through your anxieties.”
Wes takes a long, deep breath before squeezing my thigh again. “I have some… news. That I wanted to talk to you about yesterday, but then things happened with your mom and I didn’t want to make things worse…”
Oh god, please don’t be breaking up with me when we’re a fourth of the way through our long ass road trip.
But that wouldn’t make sense. Why would he still come if he was breaking up with me?
“Okay…” I say, trying to still my racing heart.
“Have you ever heard of the band Keely and the Kissers?” Wes asks.
“I think I’ve heard one or two of their songs.”
“They’re getting really popular. So popular that they’re going on tour next year, starting in January. And they’ve asked me to go. With them. On the tour.”
My chest aches with pride and a bit of anxiety at the revelation. I’m speechless.
My boyfriend is going on tour?
My boyfriend is going on tour?
My boyfriend is going on tour!
“Wes, oh my god. That is amazing!” I grab his hand from my thigh and shake our arms in a cheer, but when I look over at him, he’s only got a half smile on his face. Like he’s trying not to be too happy about this life changing news. “Why don’t you seem excited?”
“The tour is eight months long. We just started dating and I don’t want to leave you for eight months. I mean, I asked the manager if you could… come along, and he said yes as long as we share a room, but you can’t just uproot your life again so soon after you uprooted it once and-”
“Are you serious right now?” I practically scream at him. Oh, I’m so mad. How dare he decide that I don’t want to go on a freaking tour with my musician boyfriend!
“Well, yeah.” He says, looking rightfully chastised. “I didn’t… I don’t want to put you through more stuff…”
“Ask me, Wes. Ask me what I want to do, because you haven’t, and there’s no way you could know my answer without asking me.” I say, firmly but gently.
But he doesn’t, right away.
We sit in agonizing silence for another ten minutes -that feels like a fucking hour- before we come across a little Valero gas station and Wes pulls in and parks.
Wes takes a deep breath, as if steeling himself for battle before he turns to me and grabs both of my hands in his, resting them on the center console. His calloused thumbs rub soothing circles on my palms, his teeth gnawing at his bottom lip in worry.
“I’m sorry I assumed what you’d want to do, baby.
I’ve lost so many people in my life, and I want to keep the ones I care about closest, but sometimes that means I avoid hard things in order to keep them around.
I’ve also never really had to think about how my choices would affect anyone else, you know?
Not for a really long time. But I think about how things would affect you all the time.
And the thought of being away from you for any period of time, let alone eight fucking months?
” He shakes his head. “That would feel like pulling my heart directly out of my chest. The thought of ever causing you pain makes me physically ill. I’d sooner cut off my thumbs and never play guitar again than cause you any sort of pain or discomfort.
If you want to come with me, I would be honored.
But if you don’t want to spend eight months on a tour bus and in hotel rooms, I understand. ”
My eyes are misty now at his admission. I don’t think I’ve ever had someone so fiercely protective of me. Someone who actually considers what I would feel.
“I’ve always wanted to travel. The furthest I’ve been from Provo, other than Texas, is Zion’s National Park, and that’s only a four hour drive.
My job allows me to work from anywhere, so it’s not in jeopardy.
I would love nothing more than to go on tour with you, Wes.
It’s not even a question. I’m sorry you’ve been battling with yourself for so long over this.
Next time, just ask me.” I squeeze his hands in mine.
“You’re serious? You’ll come with me?” He asks, hopefully.
“I just said I would, you silly goose.”
Wes tries to pull me over the center console so he can kiss me, but I get stuck part way so instead of a heartfelt, passionate kiss, we’re awkwardly craning our necks to reach each other’s lips.
We both break out into a fit of laughter and I can only imagine how ridiculous we must look like to outsiders.
Not that anyone is really out there to see us awkwardly smooch in a Valero parking lot.
“Let’s get through this trip and we can figure it all out. Together. Okay?” I say, wiping the errant tear that fell during our laughing.
“Okay.” Wes agrees.
Wes peels out of the parking lot of the gas station and we continue our journey, our fingers interlocked and the music at a soft volume.
“I’m going to need to have t-shirts made so everyone knows you’re taken.” I murmur. “Girls - and guys - will be throwing themselves at you constantly! How will I compete?”
“I’ll get your name tattooed on my forehead if you ask me to, baby, but just know that it’s your face I’ll seek out in every crowd.” He gives me a rakish smirk, “and no matter how many panties get thrown up on the stage, it’s only yours I’ll want to own.”
I roll my eyes and smack his chest playfully. “You can keep a pair in your pocket for every show. A good luck charm.”
“You said it, so now it’s gotta happen.”