25. Ari #2
Will shakes his head and chuckles, taking a long swig of his vodka soda. He watches Naz and Scott get up, Naz gesturing to the dance floor. Will holds up his drink, indicating that we’ll join them when he’s finished.
“Yes, I’m afraid. But not enough to deny it any longer.”
“What does that mean?”
“I…” He sighs, searching for the right words. “For a long time, I wasn’t sure if I really wanted you, or if I just felt possessive of you.”
Ouch. Okay, truth bomb.
“But when I lost you, I knew differently. I knew unequivocally that it was deeper than that. I felt possessive—I still do, if I’m being honest—but watching you be with someone else was a hard realization that I didn’t just want you.
I wanted to be him. Be in his place. I wanted to be the one holding your hand and kissing you and taking you to bed.
The one to have the chance at a future with you that wasn’t just as your friend or brother.
And watching him live out the life I want was too much for me. ”
“And what about the rest of it?” I ask. “What about all the reasons you said we can’t be together?”
“I still don’t know how to reconcile all of that,” he says, and I can tell by the worry in his eyes that his honesty is costing him.
But he’s determined not to hold back the truth, even at the expense of losing me—because he thinks I am worth trusting with the truth.
My fingers brush over the words etched on the inside of my wrist.
Worthy.
I am worthy of honesty. I am worthy of love. I am worthy of this chance we’re taking.
And he is worthy of knowing what he’s worth to me.
“It kind of feels like we’ve done a one-eighty in the blink of an eye,” I say, chuckling at how nervous I was to even see him when I got off the plane yesterday.
Knowing now that he was feeling the same way, that he was gearing up to make all these confessions and beg me not to hate him—as if I ever could—puts into perspective just how much of his pride and fear he had to swallow.
The man in front of me is not the same man I walked away from in New Orleans. He’s someone who has turned himself inside out to be a better version of himself. For me, but for himself too.
“It’s okay to not know what this is yet,” I say, gesturing between us. “We can take it slow.”
“Can we?” Will asks, humor lacing his tone.
“Okay, we definitely jumped into the deep end,” I say, laughing. “But there are no rules that say we can’t walk it back a little. We can set some boundaries so you can explore without worrying that you’ll get in too deep.”
“I don’t think you understand,” Will says, cutting me off with a hand on my knee.
He bends his neck to bring himself to eye level with me.
“I’ve been in the deep end this whole time.
I was just too afraid to do more than tread water.
” He sighs deeply. “That’s a stupid metaphor.
What I’m trying to say is that I don’t have any questions about you and me. I know what I feel and what I want.”
He pauses for a second, fingers flexing over the soft material of my skinny jeans, the heat from his hand radiating through my skin and directly to my core. “What I’m afraid of is other people. Not so much what they think of us, but what it could do to us, and Naz and Jesse, if it got out.”
“We don’t have to tell anyone.”
Will’s eyebrow raises. “We already got caught.”
My nose scrunches. “Okay, so we’ll definitely have to be more careful.”
“I think we should tell the guys,” he says, surprising the hell out of me. “If anything, they’re the people that love us the most, so they’re the ones who will understand us best. They’re also the people with the most to lose if this does get out—aside from us.”
I nod my agreement, swallowing down a lump of emotion. Because the fact that he wants to tell anyone at all feels life affirming. It’s like there’s a balloon in my chest with a little too much helium, and now I’m a little floaty.
“Once we’re comfortable enough, we can work on the next step, which I guess would be telling Blake and PR.”
My eyes bounce back and forth between his, as if I could detect any hesitancy or lies. If there’s anything, it doesn’t show. He looks completely earnest.
“You’re really in this.”
“I really am,” he says sincerely. “I told you, losing you put everything into perspective. And last night—kissing you, touching you—it’s like everything inside me just slid into place.”
“I really want to kiss you right now.”
He must understand how serious I am, or maybe he can feel it too, the weight of how badly I need to touch him. My lips are practically vibrating, the tip of my tongue tingling with anticipation of meeting its match.
Will’s head swivels, taking in the room and people around us. He gestures with his chin to Eric and Zane, who stand and come over, looking concerned.
“Everything okay?” Eric asks, eyeing me worriedly.
“He’s not feeling well,” Will says before I can answer. “I think maybe he drank too much, too fast. We’re out of practice.”
My eyes fall to my second drink, which I’m surprised to find is empty. It’s a plausible excuse. I stay quiet instead of attempting to act sick, because if anything, I’m feeling pretty damn pleasant right now, and I’m at risk of overselling it.
“You do look flushed,” Zane notes, holding out his hand. “Let’s go get you some fresh air.”
“I’ll go get the car,” Eric says, turning to leave.
Will pulls his phone from his back pocket and taps at the screen, presumably texting Naz that we’re heading back to the hotel because I’m sick .
As we’re walking out, Kai flutters over to us. “Is everything okay?”
“Nothing a little fresh air and water can’t help, but we’re heading out. The rest of our party is staying, though. I’m sure they’ll come up for another drink after a few more songs.”
Poor Kai looks disappointed, but to his credit, when he runs off to write his number on the back of a napkin, he also brings me a cold bottle of water and apologizes for making the drinks so strong.
I give him the kindest smile I can muster and tell him not to worry, that I’m just a little tired after our show tonight.
Within minutes, I’m shuffled out the back door and into the waiting stretch SUV limo. Eric drives us home, and Zane stays back to keep an eye on Naz and Scott in case Scott was too distracted by Naz to keep a proper watch.
As soon as the door shuts, a heavy silence falls on us.
It fills the air and spreads, permeating the breathing space with thick tension.
I’m not just aware of my body, but his as well.
Like all my skin cells and hair follicles are reaching for him, the way plants turn to face the sun.
Awareness blankets me, a physical warmth crawling over my skin, radiating from every spot on my body that is closest to him.
Will shifts next to me, his knee brushing mine, and my breath hitches.
It’s a fleeting touch, the barest touch of fabric to fabric, but it zings through me like a lightning bolt.
The jolt shoots through my bones, up my spine and then back down to my groin, settling low in my balls. My pants get tighter.
“If I kiss you now,” Will says, voice low and raspy, “I won’t be able to stop. No matter who opens that door, no matter who sees. I won’t stop.”
Inhaling a shaky breath, it takes everything in me not to jump him right here and now, but I know he’s right. This can wait—it needs to wait.
My fingernails dig into the leather seat, and I look at anything but him.
I probably should have scooted farther in, put more space between us.
I look for anything to distract me from the tension radiating between us, tracing my eyes over the details of the stitching in the seats, the polished wood grain of the built-in minibar.
I follow a small prism of light reflected off a crystal decanter and matching tumblers to the dark carpeted floor, noting an odd stain.
I stare at that stain the entire drive back to the hotel, the light and my mind forming it into different shapes the way you would a cloud in the sky.
It’s a fingerprint one moment, evidence of a crime.
It’s a football the next. Then a guitar pick.
A thumb pressed into skin. A tiny heart turned sideways. A mouth open mid moan…
On and on the spot continues to take on different shapes, until we’re finally pulling into the underground parking garage.
I stay still and silent, letting Will lead me to the elevator.
I stand next to him, but not too close, as we swiftly make our way to the penthouse.
I’m calm in the foyer, focusing on the sound of our steps on the marble flooring.
Inside the suite, I keep my head down, not saying a thing, not walking too slowly or too quickly to my room.
Once inside, I stare out the large windows at the sparkling city lights below, until a rush of awareness heats my skin and alerts me to the presence behind me.