The rest of the night we speak only with our bodies, listening to each other’s heartbeats, and truly feel each other in a way I’ve never experienced.
What I don’t feel for once is guilt. Giving in to my emotions, allowing ourselves to truly let go and just be with each other leaves no room for anything else. There will be plenty of time for guilt tomorrow.
Chapter Thirty
Lucky
Not since I was fifteen and Avery and I snuck out to meet up with the Raven brothers at eleven on a school night have I felt so nervous creaking open a door to a place I’m supposed to already be inside of. I swallow a deep breath, attempting to calm my nerves. It almost works, but then I remember what happened when I returned from that decade-ago dalliance. Avery got her first real kiss with Kyle that night. I, on the other hand, walked straight into the angry glare of my father the minute the door opened. It was a solid two weeks before I saw the outside of our apartment again, aside from school.
Dylan isn’t supposed to return until early this afternoon, but plans can change. Finally mustering enough courage to slip the key into the door, I brace myself for the consequences of my actions.
The room is dark.
I heave a sigh of relief when I flick on the lights and find the bed hasn’t been slept in. Thankfully, I have a few hours to clear my head.
I’m in the middle of drying my hair in the bathroom when I hear Dylan call out my name. He’s back early.
“Hey. I didn’t think you’d be back for a few more hours.” I force a smile as I step from the master bath to greet him, but my knees are actually trembling.
“Neither did I,” Dylan bites out. Uh oh.
“Did the meeting not go well?”
He turns and stares at me, a very unhappy look on his face. “The meeting was fine. I felt guilty leaving you alone all night, so I came back early.”
“Oh.” I get the feeling he’s angry with me, but I’m almost afraid to ask. “You didn’t have to do that. I’m fine.”
His jaw flexes and he turns away, emptying his pockets on top of the tall dresser. “So I’ve heard.”
What’s that supposed to mean? I don’t respond, but I’m sure more is coming.
“What did you do last night, Lucky?” His tone tells me he’s not making small talk. It’s an interrogation, and I have the sickening feeling he already knows all the answers.
It would be the perfect time to come clean. I’ve dragged this out way too long already. Yet I can’t seem to get the words out. Lies seem to flow from my lips with ease these days. “I gambled for a bit at one of the casinos.”
His unrelenting stare makes me squirm, so I pretend to focus my attention on packing the blow dryer in my hand into my suitcase.
“At the Wynn?”
I freeze. I hate myself. What I’ve done is loathsome and vile. It was never meant to happen. I didn’t mean to fall for another man. I wasn’t looking, we just sort of found each other. And after last night, I finally realize that nothing can stop what is going on between Flynn and me. What we have is real, not a fantasy I’d spent years imagining.
“Yes, I’m sorry.” I bow my head repentantly.
Dylan forks his fingers through his hair and edges over to me. He sighs loudly when I don’t look up. “I’m the one who should be sorry. I fucked up.”
Not what I was expecting.
My eyes jump to his, finding a pain that is familiar. Guilt? He places his hands on my shoulders and I wait for him to continue.
“I’ve been so preoccupied with the tour, how things are changing for Easy Ryder, I haven’t given you the attention you deserve.” He closes his eyes, and when he reopens them, remorse looms in the forefront. “I shouldn’t have gone last night. It was a mistake.” As if I didn’t already feel like a horrible human being, he’s apologizing for having to go to a business dinner, when I was with another man.
“You had a business dinner. I understand that. You didn’t do anything wrong.”
“I won’t be going to any more business dinners. I promise.” The declaration is so heartfelt, it feels like he’s promising something much bigger. “You’re what’s important and I won’t let you slip through my fingers. I’m going to fix things between us.”
“Dylan. I…I need to tell you something.” I steel myself with a deep breath and wipe my sweaty palms against my jeans discreetly.
A knock at the door interrupts what is about to be my confession.
He ignores it. “It can wait. Go on.”
Like a coward, I cling to the interruption for a minute of reprieve. “It’s fine, why don’t you get it?”
Dylan lumbers to the door as the second knock comes. Just as I’m beginning to steady again, I hear the voice from the hall.
“Brett said you wanted to see me?” Flynn.
“I’m making some changes to the show,” Dylan replies curtly and then looks back at me. Not a single muscle in my body has moved, I’m so tense. “But I’m busy right now. Lucky and I are”—the sneer on his lips grows to a full-blown self-satisfied smile as he adds—”going to enjoy our last few hours in a hotel room before we have to get back on the bus. I’ll meet you in the lobby at three to talk.”
If Flynn responds, it isn’t audible, but the slam of the door makes me jump.
I convinced myself it was a bad idea to break things off with Dylan before he was going to have a sit-down with Flynn. Although the truth of the matter is, I’m just buying more time. I’m afraid that when I end things, Dylan will see right through whatever I say and know I’ve fallen for Flynn. And that won’t be good. Dylan is already clearly bothered by the attention that Flynn’s receiving. If he finds out we’re together, it’s Flynn who will pay the price.
The last show in Vegas is uneventful, and I’m anxious to speak to Flynn when they finish playing, but backstage is crammed with people and Dylan keeps me tight against his side. “Change of plans. Lydia flew in to tell Mick she got the all-clear from her doctor to try to get pregnant again.” A few months ago she miscarried; I remember Dylan telling me she was really upset. “They want to go out to dinner to celebrate before the bus rolls tonight.”
“Wow. That would be three, right?”
“Yep. We have a lot of catching up to do.” Dylan nuzzles into my neck and I blanch, finding Flynn’s eyes trained on me, watching us together from the other side of the room.
I down three glasses of wine at dinner, well aware that two is my max. Lydia and I spend most of the night talking about her two boys and plans to try to have a girl. But my mind keeps wandering back to Flynn. Before we leave, while Mick and Dylan are busy signing a few autographs, I take the opportunity to throw out a random question to Lydia.
“How did you know Mick was the one?”
“Wow, you get deep when you’re inebriated.” She smiles. “We dated casually for a while, both seeing other people. The band was taking off and we were young. When I was with Mick, I never thought about another man. But when I was with someone else and something funny happened, the first thought was always to call Mick and tell him. A nice guy could take me on a great date, yet I’d want to call Mick and tell him about something I saw.” She sips her water. “My advice. Go to a comedy show or a place you’ve never been. If you don’t have the urge to call him and tell him all the funny jokes you remember or something you saw, he’s not the one.”
The helicopter trip to the Grand Canyon immediately comes to mind. I was sitting next to Dylan, but couldn’t wait to tell Flynn all about the things I saw when I got back.
It’s almost two in the morning when we board the bus. The driver starts the engine as soon as the door closes behind us. “You want a few minutes to get settled before we get on the road, Mr. Ryder?”