Page 62 of Where the Little Birds Go (Little Bird Duet 1)

My eyes widen to twice their size over the dark head of hair peeking out of a hoodie over top of dark sunglasses. I curse and unlock the door, throwing it open in disbelief that I’m seeing the last person who should be here.

“Who’s at the door?” Jamie asks.

“Room service,” I lie, wincing. “I’ll be on the plane. I promise. See you Tuesday morning?”

“My assistant will email you the time.”

We say goodbye and I pull Corbin into the room before anyone can see him. That is, if they haven’t already. It seems impossible that he walked in without causing a stir.

I end the call and glare at him after making sure the door is locked. “Are you stupid? What the hell are you doing here, Corbin?”

His brows raise. “Good to see you too.”

“No. Don’t act like I’m being rude,” I seethe, walking further into my room. “I’m trying to get those assholes downstairs to leave me alone and stop asking questions about us, and you show up to my hotel room?”

He keeps his distance and says, “Most of them were escorted off the property before the police were called for disturbance. Plus, I called ahead and got in a different way so nobody would see.”

I blink. Then blink again. “And what? I don’t believe that nobody saw you. My agent is working to get the rumors circulating about us to go away before something happens. You may be used to this but I’m not. I can’t afford to get attacked online for something stupid.”

“Stupid?” he repeats.

I ignore his deadpan question. “Why are you here? That’s all I want to know, Corbin. I’m leaving sooner than expected and just want to go in peace.”

He crosses his arms. “I heard. And I’m here to check in on you. Is that so wrong? We’re friends—”

“Stop.”

“Don’t deny it, Kinley.” He walks over to me until his shoes brush the tips of mine. “You can act like there isn’t something happening, but then you’d be lying to yourself. You’re better than that.”

For the first time I think, am I?

My silence only feeds his determination to prove what’s better left unsaid. “You don’t want me here because that means you’re willing to truly forgive me. It doesn’t matter that you think you already have. Another lie.”

“I’m not—”

“I’m sorry,” he continues, cutting me off, “for involving you in the shit online. I mean it. You have to understand that I’ve done everything in my power to try making sure you’ve been kept out of it for as long as I can.”

Does he think I’m stupid? “I’m not proud of admitting this, but I’ve googled you before. I typed your stupid superstar name into the browser too many times to count. You know what I didn’t find? Lincoln. Your family. Me. An

d I thought … damn. He must really hate us. You always said you didn’t want to be in Lincoln. How many times did you mention wanting to get out and never look back? So, you did. Only then you deleted that part of your past like it was some blip in the image you wanted to portray.”

“That’s not—”

“I know,” is what I say in a voice far too calm for the conversation. “You can call me a liar and say I’m in denial but I’m just protecting myself. I really thought you deleted that information because you didn’t care. It was easier than thinking you did it because you did care. That’s like admitting that I’ve always wanted us to find a way back to each other. To touch each other. To hold each other. To say the things we shouldn’t say.

“All of those things have been locked away in a vault because they’re not worth the pain of acknowledging they can’t happen. When I agreed to come to California there were so many different what-if situations running through my head. None of them turned out like this. I told myself to smile and be strong and act like I was better off without you and the memories and everything between us. Do you know what I felt instead?”

His head slowly shakes.

“Sick.” His lips part. “Sick like when I worried about messing up our first kiss, or thinking my hand was too sweaty to hold, or wondering if I’d mess up sex and ruin the moment I wanted to share with nobody but you. It’s the awkward feeling of trying to play it cool when you’re freaking out inside, and trying to decide if the funny feeling in your stomach is butterflies or anxiety, or if the stupid way you smile when you remember something naughty would give you away in front of everybody.

“And that is how this will end. I’ll touch my lips without thinking about it because I remembered how you kissed me in the trailer and stripped me of my clothes. The public will see because now they’ve seen us together and they need answers. They’ll do anything to put the pieces together even if it means putting them together wrong. Then that smile that teases my lips will disappear when I remember what it felt like to be fucked by you while your wife called. Separated or not the vows you said are still valid. Then the feeling in my stomach will weigh me down and all that’s left will be guilt. Want to know why, Corbin?”

The tip of his tongue runs across his bottom lip as he gets even closer. His body heat wraps around me like a weighted blanket that holds me down. Except the anxiety of the truth heightens instead of eases.

A tear slips down my cheek. “Because I know that I am so fucking stupid for loving you despite it all.”

The crack of my voice ends my rant because I know I won’t be able to keep talking before I break. Then the only person able to collect the pieces is a man far more broken than me.

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