Page 125 of Down Beat

His lips twist, eyes dark and his frown deep as he studies me. “Do you regret saying yes to this? Do you regret coming?”

“Why do you ask that? Is that how I appear?”

“You’re looking for an out,” he says, gaze searching mine.

“I’m looking for a way in,” I say gently.

He allows me to step closer, rigid as I slide my hands on his hips and stroke my thumbs over his T-shirt.

“I want to help, but I’m struggling to figure out how. That’s why I talked with Toby.”

“What else did the asshole say?”

“Your brother,” I scold softly, “mentioned that perhaps you use me as a crutch. That if you can kid yourself that I help, then you can justify why you refuse every other treatment option you’ve been given.”

“I’m not kidding myself.” He frowns. “You do help.”

“How, though? Because if I’m being totally honest with you, I’m no cure, I’m a Band-Aid.” I run my hands over his chest. “Loving me gives you something good to distract you from the bad. Am I right?”

He swallows, a sigh then rushing from his nose. “Maybe. But I think there’s more to it than that.”

“Why?”

He relaxes a little, one arm sliding around my shoulders to pull me close. “Without getting mad at me,” he warns, “hear me out.”

“You’re setting yourself up for trouble,” I tease.

He grins briefly. “If I wanted to be adored, not loved,” he stresses, “then I could have found that anywhere, with anyone. Fuck, I could put a post up on social media right now and have twenty offers in an hour.”

“Awesome,” I deadpan.

He gives me a squeeze, pushing the hair from my face. “But I don’t, because they aren’t you.” His eyes hold the truth as he runs his fingers along my jaw. “Your love is what I need.”

I rest my head against his chest and hold on tight, hiding my face in case he can see the doubt written in my eyes.

Just like I could see the doubt in his.

He gives me a line he knows I’ll love like the natural showman he is, but even he doesn’t know that for sure. I make him feel good, yes, but I. Don’t. Help.

And that’s the problem.

Me being here? It hasn’t been a catalyst for change. If anything it’s been an excuse for him to justify what he does. I can see him now, standing before the guys as he argues with them “If she can accept me how I am, why can’t you?”

I won’t be his excuse.

“I have something I need to tell you too,” he murmurs.

I lean back, hands shifting to his waist as he jerks his chin toward the sofa indicating we should sit. “What?”

“I spoke with Wallace today; about you playing.”

I sigh and step away, turning toward the seat. “Look, you don’t have to explain. I figured it out for myself.”

He rubs a hand on the back of his neck as he follows me over. “I thought you might have.”

“I’m not mad at you,” I reassure as I drop onto the cushion. “It’s not your fault; you tried.”

“Yeah, but I kind of screwed things up, too.” He stands before me, nervous as all hell. He can’t even keep his eyes focused on me, his gaze darting all over the room.

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