And so I can escape the intense moment where I might say something that I shouldn’t. “Lost time?”
“When you decided not to go on the road with us that summer, I was surprised, to say the least. But when you ended things between us, it wasn’t something I was at all prepared to deal with. You tried later, to explain, I think. And I handled it like a stupid, cocky kid not used to not getting his way when I should’ve heard you out.”
Lying here in postcoital bliss with him exposes my vulnerable side. This is not the route we should be heading down if we’re keeping this casual. Rehashing our past is the opposite of casual.
“I bombed show after show that summer. The tour ended abruptly and we didn’t get asked back to a single venue. Want to know why?”
Speaking of bombs, he just dropped one on me. I didn’t know this because I spent most of that summer avoiding him.
I take his face in my hands and latch my gaze on to his—needing a physical connection to gather the strength I need to hear this.
Dallas takes my silence for a yes and continues. “Every song I’d written, the majority of the ones on the set list, they were about you. Or at least inspired by you. I couldn’t get up there and give it my all when I was singing about a girl who’d dumped my ass.”
His confession wedges into a crack in my heart, causing it to take off, beating in triple time.
After kissing him gently on the mouth, I take a deep breath and try my best to explain something I should have told him years ago.
“Dallas, I’m so sorry. I didn’t know and I never meant to . . .” To what? Ruin his life? Destroy his dream? No wonder he never wanted to speak to me again. The frustrated anger I saw on his face when I appeared on this tour makes so much more sense now. I try to speak over the lump of emotion constricting my throat. “I should’ve told you the truth that summer. I should’ve—”
“It’s in the past, Robyn. All of it. And I’m enjoying the hell out of our present so I just wanted to clear the air without having that hanging over us.”
“We were so young and I—”
His hands tighten around my hips, cutting me off. “I know. And you were right anyway. I needed to focus on my music and you had a full school schedule to deal with. It all worked out how it was meant to, just like you said it would.”
I squeeze my eyes shut and try not to wince at how much that hurts to hear. I tried to tell him about my mom, about why I really ended it, a few weeks after our breakup, but he wouldn’t hear me out. He avoided me anytime our paths crossed and practically shut down his ability to hear anytime I opened my mouth in his presence, which is understandable since I ruined his tour that summer. So maybe now isn’t the time to come clean, either.
But I wasn’t right. It was the wrong way to handle it and I know that now. It occurs to me in the form of tears pricking my eyes that if I hadn’t ended our relationship abruptly the way that I did, maybe the band would have gotten recognized sooner. Maybe he wouldn’t be Dallas Walker solo act and he’d be living his actual dream with his band.
“So Midnight Bay seems like a decent company to work for,” he says, completely changing the subject. I should probably feel relieved and yet I don’t. “You happy there?”
I nod, swallowing the guilt his apology unearthed from deep in my soul. “Mm-hm.”
“You’re a hard worker. They’re lucky to have you.”
“They might not agree if they knew what we were up to right now. It’s a family-oriented business with some pretty high moral standards.”
“My lips are sealed, sweetheart. Promise. Besides, I’d never let them fire you. I don’t know if you’ve heard, but I’m a pretty big deal these days.”
I laugh softly. “Oh yeah? And is it as amazing as you thought it would be? Performing to huge crowds and being on this tour, getting to live your dream?” I trail a manicured finger in circles on the forearm he has wrapped around me while I wait for his answer. Part of me wants to hear that he’s happy, that he’s just as