“Don’t even think about it, Blondie.” I grab the suitcases and carry them upstairs, with her following closely behind me. When I unlock the door and push it open, I see three things immediately. The most garish red floral wallpaper that has ever existed. A fireplace almost as tall as I am. And one bed. One. Fucking. Bed. I don’t even realize that I’m stopped in the doorway until Julie pushes past me into the room. The second she sees the bed she freezes.
“Oh no. No way. Definitely not. Not happening.” She spins to face me. “Not. Fucking. Happening.” She punctuates each word with a finger to my chest then crosses her arms, glaring at the bed as if she can make it split in two through sheer force of will.
I’m suddenly exhausted right into my bones.
“It’s fine, Julie. We’re adults. We can share a bed. And if sharing a bed with me is so terrible, I’ll sleep on the floor, okay?”
“I can’t.”
“You can.”
“No. You don’t understand. I can’t. I just…can’t.”
Her breath hitches on the last word, and she looks around the room a little wildly. Her fingers scratch at her wrist and her breath comes fast and sharp. I can tell she’s on the verge of a full blown panic attack, and I take one step towards her, hatingto see her struggle. Wanting so badly to help her. For her to let me help her. To tell me what the problem is so I can fix it. But before I can reach her, she throws a hand out to stop me then spins on her heel, running out of the room and thundering down the stairs.
It takes my brain a second to engage, and she’s fast when she’s panicking. By the time I catch up with her, she’s flying out the front door of the inn. I find her in the parking lot, standing in the falling snow, bent over with her hands on her knees, her back rising and falling rapidly. I reach her in two strides. I place a hand on her back and she jerks at my touch, her breathing so fast I’m afraid she’s actually about to hyperventilate.
I can’t watch her struggle anymore. I don’t have it in me.
“Fuck this.” I wrap my arms around her from behind. She struggles against me for a second before giving in, melting into me and fitting so perfectly against me it’s like she was made just for me. I tighten my arms, whispering into her ear.
“Breathe, Blondie. You’re okay. Feel me breathe and do what I do. We’ve done this before. In and out, okay?” I keep holding her, taking deep, exaggerated breaths until I feel her breathing match mine. “You’re doing great; just keep breathing. Stay with me.”
I don’t know how long we stand there like that, the snow falling around us, but as I feel her breathing return to normal, I just can’t take it anymore. The last twenty-four hours have been an eternity.
“What’s going on, Julie? Why are you so sad? Talk to me, baby. I miss the sound of your voice.”
“I can’t.”
“You can. You’re safe with me. I swear it.”
At that, she pulls out of my arms, whirling around to face me, her face a mask of pain.
“Am I, Asher? Am I safe with you? Because I don’t feel all that safe.”
Nothing she could say would possibly cut any deeper than that.
“If I did something to make you feel like you weren’t safe with me, then tell me so I can make it better. Just…tell me.”
“I saw the texts on your phone,” she explodes.
“The…huh? I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
She scoffs. “Really?You know I can give you what you need?You need me just as much as I need you? Come on, Asher. I’m not an idiot. If this whole road trip is just a fun way for you to pass the time, that’s fine—I just need to know. If you’re seeing other people, just tell me. I mean, you’re not even seeing me, so I don’t know what I’m getting so upset about. But still. Just tell me. I’m a big girl and I can handle it. I’m not going to fall in love with you over some wolves and a giant taco and a bag full of peppermint Hershey Kisses.”
Well, fuck me. She saw the texts from Danny. It kills me that she has spent the last day worrying that there might be another woman. And I know it’s time to tell her. Everything. It occurs to me for the first time that if this conversation goes badly—if she doesn’t understand me self-medicating so I can play football—I could lose her for good. I’ve been so preoccupied with losing her for some unknown reason that I forgot there is an actual, tangible reason she may not want to be with me, and that thought is a punch straight to the gut.
I could spend a minute pondering the irony of the fact that I finally found something that would hurt more to lose than football and now I might lose them both, but I can’t dwell on that for too long or I’ll go insane. I didn’t havetell my biggest secret and potentially lose the love of my life during a blizzard at a roadside bed and breakfast in rural Kansason my bingo card, but I guess you can’t always plan the major crossroads in yourlife. Whatever the outcome, this conversation has to happen, and it has to happen tonight. But first thing’s first.
I step towards her, cupping her face in both of my hands so our eyes meet. I lean forward, pressing my lips to her forehead before locking eyes with her again. I can feel the intensity blazing in my gaze and I hope she sees it. “There is no one else. I haven’t so much as looked at a single other woman since we danced together almost seven months ago. I only want to see you. I don’t want to see anyone but you ever again. Ever, Juliette.”
She closes her eyes, and a single tear slips down her cheek. I catch it with my thumb, wiping it away.
“You called me Juliette.” Her voice is small, and I hate it. Her voice should never be small.
“I always call you Juliette.”
“Earlier you didn’t. In the parking lot. And in the room. And just now, when you were telling me to breathe. I don’t…” She stops, taking a shaky breath. “I don’t want you to call me anything else. I like that I’m Juliette to you. I like who I am when I’m with you.”
