I nod. “Thank you,” I say. And then I add, “I really am sorry.”
He doesn’t answer, and a thick, uncomfortable silence fills the car.
I want to reach for him, to put my hand on his.
I want to give him comfort, but I know that is something I am no longer entitled to do. So instead I lean my head back and close my eyes, giving in to the sudden, cloying exhaustion that has settled upon me.
I don’t plan to sleep, but I must have dozed off because I am jerked awake when the car slows and the texture of the pavement beneath the tires changes.
I blink out the window and see a small, squat building in front of us.
“Where are we?” I ask sleepily.
“Baker,” he says. “We’re staying here until morning.”
“What? But I need to get to Vegas.”
“Not past midnight you don’t. And I’d rather you get there alive.” He pulls into a parking space and kills the engine. Then he turns to face me. “I’m tired, Jamie. I was up all night before the wedding, and then throughout the party. I didn’t get much sleep after that, either,” he adds.
He looks at me, his expression cool. “I’m running on fumes, and I know you are, too. So we are staying here, and we are going to sleep.”
“Fine,” I say because what else is there to say?
As far as I can tell, this is the only motel in Baker, and it’s tiny. It’s also almost completely sold out, which I find surprising. There is only one room, and it has a king-size bed. When Ryan tells me this, I stoically nod my head. Secretly, though, I am worried. I ran because I believed it was the right choice—and because I am weak.
I am still weak, and simply having him nearby makes me weaker. I cannot remember ever being as affected by a man as I am by Ryan Hunter. And if he makes a move during the night, I’m not at all certain I will have the strength to say no.
Because the truth is, though I am certain that going back to Texas is the right thing, I regret the way I ran from him. I regret even more the nights I lost with him.
Maybe The Plan really is only about Texas. And maybe taking the memory of Ryan Hunter back with me would have made me stronger.
And maybe I’m pulling rationalizations out of my ass to justify sleeping with him in this tiny hotel.
Right. Best to just not go there.
The room is small and dingy and smells like old socks. There is a lumpy bed and a threadbare armchair.
I sit in the armchair.
Ryan doesn’t sit at all. Instead he paces, and I know him well enough to see that he is debating something. I presume it’s whether or not to yell at me.
I decide to dive in. I figure I owe him that much. “I’m sorry,” I say for about the four millionth time.
He sighs, then sits on the edge of the bed facing me. “Just tell me why. Because honestly, Jamie, I’m baffled. I thought we were having a good time. I know damn well that I was.”
“Me, too,” I say, my voice small but earnest.
“And I thought we’d reached an understanding. I thought I’d made it perfectly clear that I wasn’t going to be one of the men you tossed away. And I sure as hell thought that we were on the same page about you not simply sneaking away.”
“I fucked up,” I say. My breath shudders and I feel tears sting my eyes. “I didn’t want to hurt you. Or piss you off.”
“You managed both,” he says, and when I look at his face, I see something vulnerable in his eyes.
I open my mouth to say that I’m sorry again, but then I stay silent. I have said those empty words too many times already.
“Dammit, Jamie.” He sounds ripped up, and I force myself not to reach for him when he kneels down in front of me, his hands on my knees. “I want you, make no mistake. But if I can’t have you in my bed, I still want you in my life.”
My heart stutters. He’s speaking words of friendship, not just sex. Of a connection that’s more than just physical. It scares me—but even as I want to shrink away, I also can’t deny the little spark of hope that is now dancing inside me.
He reaches up and strokes my cheek. “I care about you,” he says. “And I thought—”
“What?” I’m breathless.
“I thought you felt the same.”
“I do. It’s just—” I stand up and run my fingers through my hair, trying to find the words. “You’ve seen me. And I know you’ve heard stories. It’s not like I keep my private life a secret, and that whole fiasco with Bryan Raine was all over the tabloids.”
Raine is an up-and-coming movie star, and it hadn’t ended well. Primarily because he was a selfish, self-absorbed prick who decided to dump me because it would be better for his career to screw an actress with clout.
“I fuck around,” I say, which pretty much sums up my entire adult life. “And it’s messed me up a lot. Bryan messed with my head. And then I went and slept with one of my best friends, and we managed to fuck that relationship up, too.”
I’m rattling my thoughts out, not sure if I’m revealing too much or too little, if I’m pushing him away or driving him closer.
“But then with you,” I continue. “I’ve never felt so—” I shake my head because I’m not going there. “It was amazing,” I say, backtracking. “But the timing was completely messed up. I was already supposed to go back. I was already deep into The Plan.”
“The Plan?”
“The whole reason I moved back to Texas in the first place. I need to get my head on straight. I’ve done a hell of a lot of dumb stuff.”
“Everyone’s done dumb stuff, kitten,” he says. “Running isn’t going to make you smarter. It just puts more distance between you and the problem.”
I shake my head. “It’s not about distance. It’s not even about avoiding sex. Not really. But sex knocks me off track, and I need to stay strong.”
“All right,” he says. “But if it’s not about distance and not about sex, then what is it about?”
That’s a good question, and not one I was sure I had the answer to. “It’s about...I guess it’s about figuring out who you are. Who I am. Does that sound foolish?”
He shakes his head, then moves to sit back on the bed opposite my chair. “No,” he says. “It doesn’t. Do you think you’re going to figure it out in Texas?”
“Yeah,” I say. “By way of Vegas,” I add, and then tell him about the job.
“It sounds like an excellent opportunity,” he says.
“It is. And I think I’ll be good at it.”
“I know you will.” He stands up, paces the room, then stops in front of me. “All right,” he says.
I’m confused. “All right?”
“I’m not going to argue with you, and I’m certainly not going to force you. If you think you need to make a quest and go home, then I won’t stop you.”
His expression is warm but intense. “I already know who you are, Jamie Archer. But I also know you have to figure it out on your own.”
His phone chimes, and he pulls it from his pocket, then glances at me, amused. “You texted me to rescue you?”
“I—oh. Yeah. Sorry. I realize it’s a little weird seeing as how I walked out on you, but...” I trail off in a shrug. “You were the first one I thought to text, so I tried to think of other people. But I couldn’t, and so...at any rate, it doesn’t matter. You rescued me even before I asked.”
He moves back in front of me, then reaches down and pulls me to my feet. “Thank you,” he says simply.
I shake my head in confusion. “For what?”
“For knowing that I will always be there for you, no matter what.”
“Ryan...” My voice is soft and full of emotion. Because he is right. I do know that, and the knowledge wraps around me like a soft blanket.
He smiles in what I think is understanding. Then the smile intensifies, and a hint of amusement touches his lips. “If getting to Texas is what you need, then I’ll get you there. First Vegas, then on to Dallas.”