you’re what? Asking me to wait?”
“Yeah. I guess I am.” It hadn’t been planned, but seeing her again clarified the path. Waiting was the only logical course to take. For both of us.
Her gaze shifted as she made her choice. “What do the numbers on your clock mean? The one on your chest?” She tapped her index finger right above the ink.
The urge to shut down hit hard and fast, but I pushed it aside and focused on her eyes. “Seven twelve. July twelfth. Kaylee’s birthday.”
Her brow furrowed. “You went to rehab on her birthday.”
I nodded. “I tried a few times before, but I never made it through. The day she would have turned eighteen, I signed myself in and I stayed.” She would have been old enough to leave on her own. She wouldn’t have needed me.
Zoe weighed my answer for a few very long, very quiet moments. “So, you need about three months.”
“Yes.”
“I’ll think about it.”
“You’ll think about it?” I didn’t know whether to be frustrated or relieved.
“I said I’ll think about it.” She shrugged, then pushed at my chest. “Your ten minutes are up.”
“Come on, let’s get you back to the Mickey Mouse Clubhouse brigade.” I stuck out my hand, but she didn’t take it.
“They’re not that young,” she muttered, headed for the door.
“Yeah, they are. But you chose well. They might be almost as good as us one day.” I followed after her.
“Cocky bastard.” She shook her head as we walked into the hallway.
“At least you know what you’re getting into.”
“Yeah. That’s part of the problem when it comes to you.” Her voice dropped.
“Three months,” I repeated, devouring the sight of her and memorizing every single detail. “It’ll be over before you know it, and then it’s you and me.”
“What makes you think I’ll wait it out?” She arched an eyebrow as she backed away, but there was a spark in those eyes.
“Because you love me.” I folded my arms over my chest and watched her retreat, battling every instinct in my body to throw her over my shoulder and race back to Colorado.
“Hmm. Is that so?”
“It is, and I love you.” I didn’t give a shit who heard us in the hallway. “Three months, Shannon.”
“Yeah, I heard you the first few times. Bye, Nixon.” She pivoted and walked off toward her band, pausing as Quinn said something in her ear. Zoe nodded, then disappeared around the corner.
“How did it go?” Jonas asked as we walked with Quinn toward the stage twenty minutes later.
“Guess we’ll see what happens in the next three months,” I answered, adjusting my guitar strap. I’d passed over the Nixon one she had made for me and chosen the one that read Zoe’s.
“Okay then.” He clapped the back of my shoulder.
“Hey, I have something I need to do in a few days, but I was thinking I might take you up on that invite afterward. Maybe come to Boston for a while? If the offer still stands.”
“It always stands. It will be really good to have you.” He smiled. “Plus, it will give me time to bully you into putting ‘Merciful Fire’ on the album.”
“I’m all for it,” Quinn chimed in. “It’s good.”
“Not a chance in hell.” Zoe hadn’t even heard it yet.
“We’ll see.”
19
ZOE
“So, you’re together? Not together?” Naomi asked.
“Yes? No? I’m honestly not sure.” I hit the speakerphone button and put the phone on my counter as I dug around in my refrigerator to find something for dinner. “I think we’re in limbo.”
“Limbo?”
“Yeah, limbo. You know, the place between heaven and hell—”
“I know what limbo is. I just don’t understand how you’re in it.”
“He asked me to wait three months.” I pulled out the takeout I’d ordered two nights ago and gave it a whiff. Smelled good to me. Plus, it was already eight thirty and I was starving. Getting Seven to One off the ground had me working around the clock, but we’d had some summer festival proposals sent our way today, so it was looking up.
“And you said you’d think about it.”
“What else was I supposed to say?” I popped the leftovers into the microwave.
“Oh, I don’t know. Anything that would have given one of People’s Sexiest Men Alive a clear answer on whether or not he’s allowed to go sleep with other people?” Her voice rose.
“He won’t.” I watched the plate spin round and round inside the microwave, debating what I’d thought was a cute little comment three days ago. “And if he does, then I guess we