Page 37 of Faithful

That’s why all my luggage fits with me in the back seat of the Navigator that takes me to the city through a maze of congested roads.

My phone pings when, according to the driver, we’re halfway to the destination.

K: u almost here?

K: come straight to my room

K: I’m done for the day

I can feel his impatience in those messages. I can see it in the way those texts are sent with short intervals in between.

Quick, choppy sentences, as if he’s typing them while pacing.

I want to tell the man behind the wheel to go faster but it’s not my place. Instead, I brace myself for the remainder of the drive, the replays of last night’s phone conversation invading my mind like an unwanted replay.

The moment I step out of the vehicle in the parking structure of a luxury downtown hotel, the ground shifts beneath me. And not because of being in the air and then in a car for hours on end or because my legs are numb, but because after yesterday’s conversation with Kai, so far this entire trip has been a bitter mix of blessing and torture.

I thank the driver and follow the instructions in the text message to fly up (not literally, of course) to the tenth floor, my baseball cap pulled low over my forehead in case the press or fans of the band have found their way into the building.

Then I’m in front of room 10506, my pulse abnormally loud and uneven, and I’m worrying the strap of my gym bag where it’s slung over my shoulder and thinking of all the things I’m going to tell Kai, of all the things Ineedto tell Kai.

My phone buzzes again and I don’t bother checking the message. I know it’s him. I hear the hurried scuffle of boots on the other side of the door right before it swings open.

No, Dylan, you’re not dreaming.

“What took you so long?” A hand reaches over the threshold and drags me inside.

The last shreds of my resolve crumble. Bag slipping to the floor, I palm his face and haul him into a kiss, and it finally feels like I’m breathing again.

“What’s that for?” Kai asks, not even trying to hide his smile when he pulls back to look at me with his huge, intense eyes. His lips are swollen, and his face is pink, and he’s nothing like his public alter ego. He’s lit up by streaks of the evening city glow falling into the room through the wall of uncovered windows and it’s by far the most beautiful thing I’ve seen this year.

I twist my fingers in his hair and draw him to me again–our bodies flush now–and whisper against his lips, “I just missed you.”I just want to make sure you’re okay.

“So it seems.” He hums into my mouth.

* * *

Just as I predicted, we aren’t able to leave Kai’s room.

After I've been properly thanked (read: amazing blow job) for making time to fly across the country to spend a little less than twenty-four hours with him, Kai gets a call from Bodhi.

There’s a crowd gathered out in the street because apparently some zealous fans tracked Danny’s Instagram geotags and it’s no longer a secret what hotel Iodine is staying at while in Nashville.

“I guess sightseeing isn’t an option.” I roll over to spoon a warm naked body spread out on the bed next to mine.

“I guess not.” Kai tosses his phone on the nightstand and tries to wrap his arm around me.

We’re a little blissed out after a round of rushed, take-the-edge-off sex, and his attempt to cuddle is laughable at best. His limbs are boneless, and his motions seriously lack direction. But it’s the thought that counts, right?

“I don’t mind being confined to this room as long as you’re in it too,” I mutter lazily against the hollow of his throat.

My fingers begin to trace the ink shapes on his skin, and if he notices how the dynamics have shifted between us since the last time we saw each other, how there’s less anger and more… gentle affection, he’s not bringing it up.

And I’m more than okay with that.

There are things that I’m not ready to bring up either.

Like Ava’s illness.

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