She frowned.
How to explain it? It was all such a mess. “Thing is, I can’t get over him when I’m living with him. The proximity doesn’t work. It just turns me into some perverted weirdo, hopped up on pregnancy hormones, sniffing his dirty laundry.”
“You sniffed his dirty laundry?” Anne gave me a look of much judgment.
“It was only a shirt.”
She cleared her throat. “Right. Okay.”
“Anyway, it doesn’t feel right, the way things are. I invaded his private space, taking up the offer of moving in. It was a bad move. So I’ve been thinking about either heading home or getting my own room.”
“Don’t leave. Move back in with me and Mal. I promise we’ll keep the sex noises under control.”
“No way. I still get these horrible flashbacks of that night and wake up crying, terrified that some sexed-up howler monkey is going to attack me.” The sniggering—I couldn’t contain it if I tried. So I didn’t.
“Funny,” she said drily.
“Thanks. I amuse me.”
“I hate the thought of you being on your own.”
“I know. But I’m going to be a single parent, Anne. I am on my own, it’s a fact of life. Time I got used to it.” I shrugged. “I know you and Mal want to do what you can, and I appreciate it. I do. Bean’s lucky. She’s going to have an awesome extended family with all of you guys.”
“She really is.”
I gave Anne’s knee a friendly squeeze. “I’m glad we could talk about this. I’ve missed talking to you.”
“Sorry I was so judgy. It was just hard, with all our plans for you to study and everything.”
“Yeah, I know.”
We just about sat in each other’s laps we were so close. After the last few months, I think we needed it.
“I keep telling myself that he and I are just going to be friends,” I said, letting it all out, dumping the whole sorry story on her. “There’s a deeply stupid part of me that’s still holding out hope, however, that doesn’t quite want to accept it. I can’t sit in his hotel room waiting for him to come home so we can have some magical moment together that’ll fix everything and make it right. He and I are never going to be like that. I just have to accept it.”
My sister just stared at me. “You have real feelings for him, don’t you?”
I snorted. I don’t know, it just seemed ridiculous that she was still in denial after everything.
“Sorry. I guess I just always thought this was some crush you’d get over,” she said. “But it’s not.”
“No. But it’s way past time for me to move on. You’re right there. Hence we are here, waiting for him to make an appearance. I’ll see him in action, schmoozing with sexy women, and hopefully realize the depth of my silliness. Then I’ll tell him it’s time for me to go big and get my own room or go home.” I picked up my glass of lemonade from the coffee table and took a sip.
Anne cocked her head, studying me. “Are you in love with him?”
Good question.
“I just thought … maybe seeing him in action isn’t what you need,” she said. “Maybe taking a stand would work better.”
“Demanding he love me? I don’t think that would work.”
“Hmm. But back to the original question. Do you love him?”
“I’m not sure I even know what love is.”
“Does it hurt?”
Air was apparently in short supply. I stared at my sister, confused at the question and yet completely understanding. And that question—I didn’t want to answer it. I needed to concentrate on my definites. Bean. Being a mom. Things like that.
“Well?” she asked.
“Yes.” And god I hated it. The truth sucked.
Slowly Anne nodded, no smile on her face. “I’m sorry.”
“Anyway.” My smile felt so impossibly plastic. It was a wonder my face didn’t crack. “When he gets here, I’ll talk to him. In the meantime, party-party girl, that’s me. And I’ve got a feeling this one’s going to be an all-nighter.”
“It’s nearly midnight. I’m impressed you’ve managed to stay awake this long.”
“You’re only saying that because I’ve been asleep by eight o’clock every night this week.”
She smiled.
“You wait. Later we’ll go completely crazy and do shots of warm milk. It’ll be awesome.”
“Living on the edge.”
“I know, right?” I turned to look over my shoulder at my new, ever-present shadow. “You can do the honors and pour, Sam.”
“I’ll look forward to that, Miss Rollins.” The security man gave me an austere nod, never taking his eyes off the room. Damn it. He joked and smiled with the members of the band. I’d witnessed it with my own two eyes. Eventually I’d wear him down.
From out in the hall came the unmistakable wailing of He Who Shall Not Be Named. Stage Dive had finally arrived. Or some of them. Mal barreled into the room, searching for his mate, while Ben wandered in at a more sedate pace, chatting to a dude I didn’t recognize. Ben’s hair was slicked back, his beard neatly trimmed. I guessed he’d changed shirts after the show, because this one was a black button-down, neatly ironed. The cuffs were rolled up, the top few buttons undone.
He looked lovely. Hell, he looked like love. Harps, angels, all of it. God, I was a sap. I really had to get this under control, for my own sanity’s sake if nothing else.
The crowd suddenly seemed at capacity. I guess a lot of people had been hanging out downstairs in the hotel bar, waiting for the important people to arrive.
The mad drummer went down on one knee before Anne, holding out a hand. With a grin, she placed her fingers in his.
“Who is this unearthly creature I see before me?” he asked. “You dazzle my eyes, mysterious stranger. I must know who you are immediately.”
“I’m your wife.”
“Thought you looked familiar.” He kissed the back of her hand, turning to rest his spine against the bottom of the lounge chair, between her legs. “Fuck that was a long night. Adrian lined up an interview after the show. Next time the little butt-weasel does that, remind me to kill him.”
“You got it.”
“Work my shoulders please, Pumpkin,” he asked, cracking his neck. “I hurt.”
Anne started rubbing him down. “Book you a massage tomorrow?”