Page 80 of Worth the Trouble

I want her to keep it.

“My show is only two weeks away,” Lili continues, when I wish she wouldn’t. “I’ll be leaving after that. To the next city—or country. And I’m sure you’ll be on tour again soon enough.”

I want to tell her I don’t care, it’s all the same and it changes nothing. I want to tell her to make this as painful as she wants because I can take it, unlike anyone she’s ever met. I want to hand her the knife and let her do the damage.

But the reality is, she’s already a figment of my imagination in my arms. Something I manifested in my darkness.

Every tour lately, I’ve been sinking, watching myself become less and less a person. And then there was Lili, seeing the parts of me that weren’t my celebrity. Feeling the parts of me that hurt to touch.

But she did.

Except, I can’t hold on when it’s unfair to her. There’s no staying for either of us. No room in each other’s lives, no places we fit. It doesn’t matter how good it feels or if she’s the first person to make me want something more since I was a kid. I’ll have to let her go.

So, I give her what she needs right now, even if it hurts—no strings. There are enough people in her life pulling them. She doesn’t need another. If what she needs is escape or a temporary reason for existing, I’ll be it.

“Then let’s not think about it. We’ll enjoy the next couple of weeks while we’ve got them.”

It won’t be enough. I’ve never wanted more than a night with anyone, but with her, I can’t help but want all of them.

“Okay.” She smiles, but it doesn’t reach her eyes.

Somewhere deep, I think she might be feeling the same void from my response that I do. But if so, she doesn’t say anything.

I lean down to kiss her, and her stomach growls the moment I do.

“Already hungry for more, sweetheart?” I tease.

“For food.” She pushes my chest playfully.

“All right. I’ll make you some breakfast.” This girl makes me want to give her everything, and it’s the strangest feeling.

“Actually, I should go home and grab one of my meals. I’ve been so far off my schedule and there are only two weeks until my show.”

I don’t like how she’s clearly hungry more than she’ll admit, or how she restricts. I don’t like that the people in her life seem to feed into it—force it even. She might not realize it’s a problem, but I know obsession when I see it. And the way she pushes food around and counts her calories has already been on my radar.

It’s just not my place to say anything—yet.

Or ever?

Who fucking knows.

Two weeks isn’t long enough.

“No,” I say, shaking my head. “I’m making you breakfast. And if you argue I’ll tie you down and feed it to you myself. You know I will.”

She rolls her eyes but bites her lip, considering my statement. Finally, she smiles, and I like that of all the people she surrounds herself with, I’m the one who can make her do that. The one who can make her indulge her own desires. The one who gives her what she really needs—and also what she wants.

“Fine, but just breakfast.”

I plant a quick kiss on her lips before dragging her bottom lip between my teeth. With a final tug, I pull back and smack her ass before walking to the kitchen.

“Sure, just breakfast,” I say, but I don’t mean it. Because I want more and more and more. I like her too damn much, and even if I’ve never been one to hold onto things, I’m tempted to keep her.

26

Rome

It’sbeentoolongsince I’ve held a guitar in my hands. The strings rub my fingers raw with how soft they’ve gotten in a matter of months. We’ve barely been playing an hour, but my fingers already hurt. And it’s all worth it to be rocking out with the band again.

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