Page 11 of I Just Want to be Yours

As much as I’m disappointed by her answer, I can’t disagree. There’s nothing we can do about being long distance. We just have to give it our best shot and see how it goes. She’s holding back, though. She’s hiding what she’s feeling, and that’s the last thing I want.

The soft clank of her placing the dish in the microwave snaps me from my thoughts.

“Margot.”

She looks over her shoulder at me as she shuts the door and pushes the button. “Jackson.”

She’s being playful because she doesn’t want to talk about this. “How are you feeling about it?” I ask again.

She collapses a little as she turns and leans her back against the kitchen counter. “I don’t know what you want me to say.”

Running a hand over my face, I say, “Why don’t we start with the truth.”

A slight frown pulls at her lips while she considers me. “Rough day in the studio?”

I raise my eyebrows and blow out a breath. “Yeah.” Keeping my attention fixed on her, I add, “But that’s not why I’m asking you about this. We need to talk about it.” The microwave beeps behind her, and I see the relief she gets from being able to turn away from me. When she hands me the plate, I thank her but don’t eat.

I wait for her to answer.

We look at each other and she sighs. “I don’t know how I feel about it.”

I take a bite because the food smells amazing, and I haven’t eaten since this morning. Plus, it gives her time to say more.

She takes a moment to think before speaking again. “I don’t want you to think I’m not happy about your success. You know how much I want this for you.”

“I know. I would never think that.”

She nods but doesn’t say anything else.

Before taking another bite, I prompt her. “But?”

She takes a breath, her eyes never leaving mine. “But I’m worried.”

I know she is. It’s the slight crease that forms between her brows as she absently chews on her bottom lip. It’s always written plainly on her face, even though she tries to hide it bynot saying any of those things out loud. I give her a leveling look. “About?”

She’s rigid, like the thought of saying her deepest fears is paralyzing, and I wonder how long she’s been holding onto them.

“Everything,” she says as she releases a breath. “Drugs, alcohol, girls.” The last word trails off and she drops her gaze.

There it is. The trifecta of vices associated with being in a rock band.

“Hey,” I say, pulling her attention back to me. “You don’t think I’d cheat on you, do you?”

“No.” She shakes her head adamantly, but the way her eyes flick to meet mine at the last minute lets me know she’s not as sure as she sounds.

I stand up straight. “Margot, I would never cheat on you.”

She nods. “I know.” But she looks down at her hands after, and my chest tightens. I don’t know how to reassure her. I don’t know how to take this fear away, because her fear has nothing to do with me and everything to do with thelifestyleshe’s imagining in her head.

“Dave has a girlfriend and Brady is practically married. The only one single in the band is Marty, and the only girls willing to give him the time of day have half a brain.”

Peeking up at me through her lashes, she lets out a laugh. Some of the tension in my chest eases, but I know I need to say more.

“And I don’t think the drinking and drugs will be an issue either. I mean, I might get drunk.” I gesture toward her. “But that just means I’ll probably blow up your phone with messages about how much I miss you.”

Her smile broadens, and I start to relax.

I start to convince myself we’ll be okay.

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