Chapter 29
When Mia comes out of the bathroom, Erin is on the balcony, leaning against the railing with the same faraway look she had when she got up.
They'd come back from the gala flying high and had gone at each other like mad the second they stepped into the doctor's room, but the euphoria and adrenaline of the night were long gone now, and the singer had the feeling Erin was avoiding her.
"Erin," Mia called from inside.
The doctor turned her head and straightened to come in. Mia was finishing pulling on a pair of comfortable pants, planning to spend the morning on the couch in her suite, scrolling through her phone or watching TV while everyone else had meetings she wasn't part of.
"What's going on?" the doctor asked.
Mia stood and stayed by the bed, watching Erin, who was still near the open terrace door.
"You regret it." The singer's voice came out rough, and she wasn't asking.
"Regret what?" Erin's pulse jumped, because deep down she knew exactly what Mia meant.
"The kiss. If you could go back, you wouldn't do it."
"I never said that, Mia," the doctor pushed back.
"You didn't have to. It's written all over you."
The doctor's brow creased as she tried to figure out what to say.
Did she regret it? In some ways yes, in some ways no, but she still didn't know how to untangle why she felt one thing or the other.
She was overwhelmed. She'd already seen the internet—the photo was everywhere, dozens of different headlines all speculating about something she'd started herself.
"I get it," Mia said, and the sadness in her voice brought Erin's heart to a standstill. "You were caught up in the moment, happy that I'd won, and you weren't thinking about anything else. You felt like kissing me and you did, but now, in the cold light of morning…"
"Mia."
"I'd rather you didn't say anything until you're sure of what you actually want to say.
I don't need your sympathy, and I don't need you treating me like I'm about to break.
I think we both know where we stand, even if we haven't said it out loud.
I like you—you know I have since day one—and I want to do this for real.
But if you can't, or you don't want to, for whatever reason, I need you to tell me right now and stop playing with me. "
"I'm not playing with you, Mia. I never have. It's just that—"
Erin stopped, because she still didn't know what was holding her back.
"What? You need more time to decide whether this is worth it?
" She gave a bitter smile and slid her hands into her pockets, hunching into herself.
"I don't want this if it's only ever going to happen behind closed doors, or if it only lasts as long as your contract.
I know it's way too soon to be asking for anything, that we've barely started, but I can't let myself keep falling for you if I'm all the way in and you're somewhere else entirely.
I have to protect myself, Erin, because it hurts like hell, the way you look at me sometimes. "
"I don't look at you any particular way, Mia. What are you talking about?" she asked, thrown.
"You look at me the way you're looking at me right now—like I'm something you want but aren't sure is enough."
Erin froze, her tongue a useless muscle she couldn't make work. Mia offered another sad little smile and dropped her gaze, because she'd at least hoped Erin would try to make an excuse.
"I'll be in my room when you come to check my vitals. I'll come by after for my bag."
The singer turned and walked out before Erin found her voice again.
She sat on the bed with her hands on her knees and thought about going after her, but Mia didn't deserve to be chased down just to hear some half-baked excuse for Erin's fog that morning.
She needed to get clear first—time alone to think about what she wanted and whether she could actually handle it.
She leaned forward and buried her face in her hands, pulling at her own hair until the pain knocked the breath out of her.
Then she grabbed her phone and her keycard and headed out to the small meeting room the hotel had set aside for them, where she'd agreed to meet Noah to go over the schedule and anything else that might have come up.
He looked about as lost as she felt. Apparently he hadn't slept much either, and Erin didn't ask whether he'd spent the night with someone because Noah had another meeting with the credentialed press in twenty minutes and he seemed anxious.
"I still don't know what I'm supposed to say about the kiss at the gala," he said out of nowhere. "They're going to ask, and Mia isn't picking up."
Erin felt more out of her depth by the second. This was definitely not her world, and it was becoming very clear she had no idea how it worked.
"What are you supposed to say?"
He blinked and looked at her like she'd grown a second head.
"Have you not seen the internet?" he asked, baffled. "It's everywhere, Erin—everyone's talking about it, and now they're going to grill me about the two of you."
"That's not what I mean. You said Mia isn't answering—what does she need to answer?" To her it seemed obvious. They'd kissed and thousands of people had seen it. What were they going to do, pretend it hadn't happened?
Noah's amused smile made her narrow her eyes, because it was clear he'd understood exactly what she was getting at.
"I asked her if she wants to confirm something's going on between you two, or if she just wants me to say you're friends.
They already know you're her doctor, but plenty of lesbians kiss each other on the lips as a greeting.
I can sell that if it's what you both want—some people will buy it, some won't, but if nobody feeds the story, the gossip dies down and it becomes just another moment.
At the end of the day—" Noah paused and scratched his messy hair.
"What?"
"Well, people always speculate about Mia, but it blows over fast because they've seen her with a lot of women."
Erin's jaw clenched until the bone ached.
"But that doesn't mean it'll be the same with you," he added, clearly uncomfortable. "Mia really likes you—you have no idea how much she's talked about you. I promise, she's never talked about any woman the way she talks about you."
"It doesn't matter, Noah." Erin chose not to hear it, because her chest tightened every time she pictured the hurt look on the singer's face. "She has her past, I have mine. What counts is what's happening now."
"Right, exactly." He smiled, relieved. "So what do I say? Has Mia told you anything?"
The doctor ran a hand through her hair, fighting the urge to pull at it again.
"No, we haven't talked about it. I didn't even know we needed to. Can't you just say nothing? Don't you people use 'no comment' all the time?"
Noah let out a loud laugh.
"Yeah, we do, though I don't think it'll do much in this case. They'll keep pushing until Mia says something herself. But fine, I'll go that route if she still doesn't answer."
After saying goodbye to Noah, Erin went to the gym and spent just over half an hour there, because the thing that usually freed her up and cleared her head wasn't working today—she couldn't shake Mia's expression from her mind, and thinking straight felt impossible.
She toweled off the sweat, stopped by the locker room to wash her face and hands, and left the gym meaning to step outside the hotel and take a walk, hoping that would do what nothing else had.
"Wait, Erin—" The doctor turned and saw Lexie stepping off the elevator, hurrying toward her and catching her before she reached the door.
"What are you doing here?" Erin asked.
Lexie looked at her, surprised.
"I'm here for the press meeting with Noah."
Erin closed her eyes and rubbed her temples, feeling stupid for asking.
"You have to tell me about last night at the gala," the journalist said, arching an eyebrow.
"I'm not telling you anything, Lexie."
"Oh, come on, don't be like that." Lexie gestured toward the back, where the hotel's café was. "I'm not asking as a journalist—I'm asking as a friend, an ex, or whatever you want to call me, though I'd prefer the first one."
The doctor finally gave in and followed her to the most out-of-the-way table they could find. Lexie couldn't wipe the smile off her face as she propped her elbows on the table and leaned in.
"I feel better, honestly," she said, amused.
Erin made a go-on gesture with her hands.
"I didn't come out of it with a bruised ego or anything like that," Lexie clarified, "but I didn't really get why you didn't want to do it again. Correct me if I'm wrong, but I'm pretty sure we had a great time together that night."
"We did," the doctor confirmed. "It was really good."
"But you were already into Mia, damn it." She shook her head, still smiling. "I don't know how I didn't see it. After last night I started thinking about it, and it was so obvious. Maybe less so on her end, because Mia has this terrible habit of looking at every woman like she's a piece of candy."
Erin laughed and nodded, agreeing completely.
"But you—" Lexie shook her head. "Always standing rigid in a corner, watching her onstage, completely tuned out to everything else around you."
"I was doing my job, Lexie. Part of it is watching her, especially when she's onstage."
"I don't doubt it. But not with that kind of laser focus. Anyway, it doesn't matter. Tell me—how long has this been going on?"
"What has Noah told you?"
The journalist rolled her eyes.
"Nothing. He says Mia isn't going to comment on it for now."
"Neither am I."
"Come on, Erin." Lexie held up both hands. "No recorder, no notes—this stays between us. I think we can actually be friends, can't we? I'd like that, and it kind of makes sense, since we're going to keep running into each other in every city on the Wild tour."
Erin looked at her steadily. She'd liked Lexie from the start—they clicked—and she trusted her when she said she wouldn't publish anything.
"I can't tell you much. I'm not exactly sure what we have."