The door to the bathroom swings open, and I curse myself for not locking the damn door, again. Heavy footsteps stop just before the shower curtain, and I take a deep breath waiting to see his face. He pulls the shower curtain back slowly, his eyes are the first thing I see before the rest of his face comes fully into view.
“Why’d you pull the song?” He asks, his voice gravelly sending a shot straight to my downstairs.
“You know why.” I huff. “I can’t play it night after night.” Irritation pulls at me, he knows why, he just wants to rattle me at this point.
“But you love that song.” His eyebrows draw together like he doesn’t understand.
“Loved.” I reply. “I loved a lot of things I don’t anymore.”
“You think so?” He asks, his voice dropping an octave, and I feel my nipples pebble.Son of a bitch.
“I know so.” I reply with spite lacing my tone. His eyes hold mine as I wash my traitorous body. Heat is rising from my chest with every movement, and I squeeze my thighs together as the water runs down my body. Andrew licks his lips as the mist from the running water hits his face.
“Get out.” He commands, his voice rough
“I’m not done yet.” I smile back, teasing him as I rub the loofah between my breasts and lower stomach.
“Either you get out or I’m getting in. Your choice.” He growls.
I think on it for a moment, I have a better chance of not getting fucked six ways from Sunday if I’m not already naked. As much as I’d like to ride his face like a rodeo cowgirl, I know that it will only complicate things.
“We really shouldn’t.” I say, turning to the faucet to let the water wash the soap from my body.
“That’s not an answer,” he growls again.
“Last night was a one off, two grieving people coming together to feel less alone.” I say to the shower wall what I know I couldn’t say to his face.
“Don’t do that. Don’t cheapen it by making it sound like we were just lonely.” He says, hurt pouring off every word..
“It’s better this way,” I say, spinning around. “with the tour coming up and everything else, we don’t need to get involved.” His eyes flash with anger.
“Better for who? You? Because it sure as fuck isn’t better for me.” He snaps, his hand pulling the shower curtain open, and he steps into the shower fully clothed, the water drenching his face immediately. His dark hair falls into his face as he holds my eyes. “You think I don’t see the way you look at me, the way you’ve always looked at me. Baby, we’re end game, you just can’t see it yet. We’re meant to be, we just did it wrong the first time.” He says softly, his voice holding so much emotion it hurts to look at him. I turn slightly, hiding my trembling chin as I take a shaky breath.
“There’s too much behind us to start over. The hurt will always hang over us like a tornado, ready to destroy everything we build.” I whisper, my heart aching in my chest as I say the words. I turn back to him slowly, his green eyes meet mine, hurt and sadness swimming between the connection. I’ve wanted this man since I was 16 years old, loved him for over a decade, ran away from my own wedding because of a song, and here I am turning him down. What the fuck am I doing? “I’m not saying never, I’m saying not right now. I need some time, Andrew.”
He takes a step back, nodding his head. “I’ve got time. We’re going to be together everyday for the next three months, I’ll show you I’m different now than I was back then.”
“Andrew,” I say, taking a step forward, “you need to slow down with the drugs too. I know you’re using, you say you have time, but if you keep this up, you won’t have time.” I reach forward and take his cheek in my palm. At the contact, his face leans into my touch, “I can’t lose you too.” I whisper.
“You won’t, I haven’t used at all today.” He says, his eyes closing.
“But you want to.” I reply, it’s a statement, not a question. He’s been fidgety since he walked in the door, and his mood swings are giving me whiplash.
His head falls further into my touch as what I assume to be embarrassment washes over him. He nods slightly, and my heart clicks again, another piece of the destroyed puzzle falling back into place.
“Thank you for being honest with me.” I say, lifting his head to look at me. His eyes open slowly as he nods his head. I realize the water has turned cold and drop my hand from his face to turn off the water.
I grab the towel hanging on the rod and wrap the fabric around myself, the cover helping me feel less vulnerable. I hand Andrew the other towel hanging on the rack, and he wipes his face.
“You got anymore band tees I can borrow?” He asks with a smile and a tilt of his head. His long black hair is drenched, and his clothes are making a puddle on the floor of the bathroom.
“I’m sure we could find one that’ll fit you.” I laugh as we exit the bathroom. We walk through the house, dripping wet towards my bedroom. Andrew stops before we make it to the door, his eyes trained on the giant mess sitting on the living room floor. Fuckkkk…I forgot about the articles. I say nothing as he stares at the pile of pictures of his face. His head turns from the pile to me, a smirk resting on his lips.
“It was research.” I blurt out before he can say anything.
“Uh huh.” He says, leaning back on the balls of his feet. “I had no idea you were such a fan, I can sign something for you if you’d like.” He winks, holding his hands over his heart theatrically. I roll my eyes at his quip.
“I don’t need you to sign anything,” I snap, embarrassment flooding my cheeks.