lowered . . . Kelli. Brian’s stomach clenched. All these years he’d waited to talk to her, wanted to talk to her, but now he realized just how hard it would be.
“Excuse me.”
Brian turned and saw a woman with two teenaged boys.
“We hate to bother you,” the woman said, “but my sons just had to know . . . You wouldn’t happen to be Alien, would you?”
“Yes, ma’am.” He smiled as he shook their hands.
“Told you, Mom!” one of the guys said. “I knew it was you. I’ve got your CD and I’ve watched some of your online interviews.”
“Wow, thanks, man. I appreciate the support. Tell me your names.”
“Matt.”
“Bobby.”
“And I’m the mom.” She smiled. “You might be surprised to know that a fortysomething white woman is into your music, but our whole family have become fans. Thank you for the way you’re reaching young people in particular.”
“Thanks so much. I’m blessed to be able to do it.”
“Can we get a picture with you?” Bobby asked.
“Of course.”
As the mom adjusted her camera, Brian glanced back to be sure Kelli hadn’t left. He posed with the guys, shook their hands again, and said good-bye, then turned and took a big breath. The walk to her chair was a slow one.
“Kelli.”
Startled, she looked up at him, then rolled her eyes. “Go away.”
He walked in front of her. “Kelli, please.” He saw her tears now and felt a stab of pain. “I just . . . Can we talk? Please?”
“No.” She tried to walk away, but he grabbed her hand and pulled her toward him. She jerked it back. “What don’t you understand?” she asked. “You asked, and I answered. I don’t want to talk to you.”
His eyes were pleading. “I do understand, Kelli. Believe me, I do. You have every reason to hate me. But that’s why I want to talk to you.” His cell phone made a vibrating sound on his hip, but he ignored it. “That’s why I’ve tried to reach you over the years, just to have one conversation. Can you just give me—”
She lifted her hands to stop him. “We don’t need another conversation. The last one . . .” She wiped a tear with a shaky hand. “The last one was enough to last a lifetime.” She turned and walked away.
Brian stood there, the sting of tears starting in his own eyes. What was he supposed to do now? He didn’t blame her. He hated what he’d done himself. But how can I fix it, Lord, if she won’t hear me out?
He had to try again. He caught up in a few quick strides and stepped in front of her. Their eyes locked inches apart, and she was more beautiful than he ever thought she could be. A tear rolled from his eye. “Just a few minutes, Kel. We don’t ever have to talk again, if that’s what you want.” He flicked another tear from his face. “Please, Kelli. Can we talk somewhere in private?”
KELLI WISHED HE’D GONE AWAY THE FIRST TIME SHE’D asked. She wished he hadn’t found her at all—and he wouldn’t have if she’d thought to get a room key. The moment she stepped outside the conference room she realized she had nowhere to go.
He looked different. Taller. More muscular. Manly. But those eyes were the same, those big brown eyes with lashes a girl would kill for—eyes that still penetrated straight to her soul. She hated that she hadn’t moved from his gaze. She couldn’t possibly listen to him. Yet in the years since she’d last seen him, one question—one word—had kept her awake at night. Why? If she’d been aching to know, and he’d been aching to tell her, maybe they could both get closure . . . and move on.
She sighed and nodded slightly, averting her gaze. “Fine. Where should we go?”
He cast his eyes about. “I don’t know how much privacy we can get down here. We could go to my room, if you don’t mind. I have a little while before I need to check out.”
“Fine.” She started toward the elevator.
They rode up in silence, got off on the seventh floor. Kelli followed him into the room and eyed a packed bag near the door.
“You want to sit at the desk?” he asked, moving some things aside.
“No.” Kelli stood at the foot of the king bed. “I’m here to listen to what you have to say, then I’m gone.”
He sat on the edge of the bed, and his phone vibrated