Page 78 of Polly

“All I’m saying is my self doubts got us into this mess. I’m sorry I overreacted.” She sniffled and focused on him. His hands were still behind his back. “Why are you standing like that?”

“I don’t trust myself not to touch you. You’re still in your stage clothes, which I find practically irresistible, and I haven’t been intimate with you for a while. I’m trying to stay out of trouble.”

Polly stepped toward him.

“You don’t have to do that. I’m sorry, Flynn.”

He didn’t move, but his gaze met hers. She stopped walking.

He said, “I needed you to talk to me, Polly. If you were having doubts about anything. About me. About us.” He shook his head. “I lost my closest friend and the woman I love at the same time over something I couldn’t control. A stupid mistake. And I couldn’t even explain because the person I respect the most in this world — you — doubted me. It doesn’t feel good.”

Polly shook her head. Tears broke free and streamed down her cheeks.

Flynn continued, “Look at me, I’m a mess. A few days without you... I already look homeless, and I backed out on a concert. But none of it matters knowing that you’re done with me.”

“I’m not done with you.” The fact that she’d made Flynn feel so badly about himself tore her apart.

Flynn shook his head. “You blocked me, Polly. Even if you aren’t done with me now, you were before. I want to be with you. I want you to trust me. I love you. After all this, though, I don’t know if we can make a relationship work. We’d have to trust each other. People manipulate our lives every day to look how they want through the press. They lie. They blow insignificant moments out of proportion. Then the distance and separation will always be factors. I don’t know if we can move past the way things look and the half truths of the press when we’re apart. Maybe we can only ever be friends.”

Polly sobbed. “We can work on it. We can promise to always talk any problems out first. I’m sorry. Please give me another chance. I want to be with you. Do you still want to be with me?”

“Of course I do.”

“Will you work on it with me?”

Flynn nodded. “I want to, more than anything.”

Polly launched herself at Flynn and wrapped her arms around him.

Flynn removed his hands from the wall and hugged her. He buried his face in her neck.

“I love you,” she said.

“I love you, too,” he murmured against her throat.

“I’m sorry. I was wrong.”

Flynn chuckled. “Well, there’s one for the record books.”

She lightly smacked him.

He kissed her cheek. “Can we lie down? I need to hold you.”

“Please.”

“Do you want to shower first? I think there’s a robe in the bathroom. I don’t care either way, but I thought you might want to take off the leather pants.”

Polly looked down and laughed. “Good idea. Come on, big guy. You’re coming with me. Let me text Ryker to call off the security guard downstairs and then you should help me out of my stage clothes.”

* * *

Polly’s phone woke her the next morning. She wiggled out from beneath Flynn and stretched her arm to grab the phone off the bedside table.

She turned off the alarm, rubbed her eyes, and checked her messages. She had text message notifications from Ryker.

Ryker: The bus is on the way to Cleveland. You play there Tuesday — two nights from now. Flynn is supposed to be in Richmond tomorrow. Get your ass to Cleveland in two days and Flynn to Richmond tomorrow. My guard, Diesel, is still there and will help. Reach out to him ASAP. I’ll text his #

Polly laid her phone aside and turned to Flynn. He’d turned on his back and rested with his mouth open, though no snores came out. She loved the youthful look that sleep created on his face, as much as she loved the strength beneath his tattoos. Flynn was a mix of everything — whimsy, fun, strength, and steadiness.

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