looked back at the road. “Do you really think he’s better than you?”
My smile was tired. This was something I’d given a lot of thought to. “It has nothing to do with someone being better than someone else. No one deserves a person. That makes it seem like we can earn the right to be with someone. I don’t ‘deserve’ Sean, and he doesn’t ‘deserve’ me. We’ve simply chosen each other.”
He took a moment to absorb that before saying, “I’d never thought of it that way.”
“I’ve always cared about Sean. When he started his career, I chose to take care of him, not because he had earned it, but because it was something I wanted to do. Then, later, I chose to take care of myself. I didn’t care about him any less. He didn’t go from being deserving to being undeserving. It just was. Situations change. People change. Priorities change. And we’re all just doing our best to choose something good every day.”
We’d stopped at a light and Nick looked over at me for several long seconds before speaking. “Well.” He shook his head a little as he turned his eyes back to the road. “No wonder you inspire so many of Sean’s songs.”
I snorted and we lapsed into silence.
As soon as I walked into the house, the look on my face must have alerted Sean, because he popped to his feet and crossed to me.
“What’s wrong?” he asked. “Is everything okay with the baby?”
“Yes. Yes. Baby girl is fine,” I assured him.
“Good.” He wrapped me in his arms. “Then what’s wrong?”
“Just…some lady being rude.”
He pulled back to look at me. “Some lady? You mean a fan?”
I nodded.
He blew out a breath. “What did she do?”
“Just told me how I wasn’t good enough for you.” I walked past him so that I could get to the couch. “I imagine she thinks she’s the only one who deserves you.”
“Did she get in your face?” he asked as he loomed above me, his hands on his hips. I called it his “protector mode.”
“A little, but she was mostly just snotty.”
He dragged a hand down his face. “I’m sorry, love.”
I loved hearing that simple word coming from his mouth. I shook my head with a smile. “Not your fault.”
“Still.” He sank down beside me. “Even without me beside you, people are still recognizing you, and I don’t like it. Sure this girl wasn’t a huge problem, but fans are unpredictable, and once in a while they do really stupid stuff.”
“I know,” I said, grabbing his hand. “Which is why I have Nick. Now”—I stood up and crossed to my piano—“come play with me.”
He appeared to fight a grin but it broke through. “You want me on the piano with you or on my guitar?”
“Guitar,” I answered without hesitation. “You cramp my style when you try to play the same keyboard as me.”
“Aw,” he whined as he picked up his guitar. “That’s the fun of it.”
He was kidding. Everyone knew he preferred his guitar. I picked one of my favorite pop songs and played it from memory, letting Sean join in before I changed it up and started riffing on the chorus. Sean came along with me, grinning as he bounced his head and his knee to the beat.
It reminded me of when he’d been recovering from the injury to his hand and I’d played for him at his house.
Except that this was so much better. This wasn’t me entertaining and distracting him. This was both of us, equal participants, playing together to create something more than we’d be able to do on our own. Challenging each other. Giving and receiving from each other. A partnership.
A real relationship.
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
Sean said he had work to do and went back to his house for the afternoon. He came back for dinner, carrying a folder, which he set aside and ignored until dinner was finished and cleaned up. Then he picked it up and said, “Can we talk?”
“Of course,” I said with a furrow in my brow and followed him to the living room.
When I came to sit down beside him on the couch, he looked nervous, like he was afraid of my reaction. Which, of course, made me wary of what he was going to say.
He dove right in.
“I’ve found three houses in the area with adequate security. I’d like you to choose one.”
I scrunched my eyes at him, suspicious. “Why am I picking your house?”