Her lips press into a thin line, and I can see the moment she admits to herself how stupid it is to let a woman, a nobody, like Carly, get to her. Her shoulders fall. Her cheeks flush. I take a step closer, reaching for her hands, forcing her to look at me. “What’s the problem, Hendrix?”

“This is just . . . it’s all fucked up, right? You. Me. I mean, this was an agreement, an arrangement . . . no strings attached and then I . . . I don’t know how you feel about any of this and the not knowing is making me feel out of control. Like I’m losing my mind. I don’t know—”

“Hendrix. Stop.” She babbles when she’s nervous. I know that. She knows that. “Talk to me. Tell me what’s going on?”

She scrunches her nose up and takes a deep breath. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be.” I reach out and brush my thumb over her bottom lip. “Clearly this is about whatever we are?” She digs her teeth into her bottom lip and nods. “If you want to know how I feel, just ask me.”

Her throat bobs as she swallows. “How do you feel?”

I laid down the gauntlet and now I’m terrified to pick it back up. Fuck. “I—” I don’t want this to be over. I don’t want to go back to life without your chaos mixed with mine. Instead of answering, I lift the hem of her dress and peel it over her head. “I think you’re incredibly creative.”

Her breath catches as I trail my fingers down her arms, then thighs until I’m at her feet, unbuckling her sandals, one then the other. “I think you’re phenomenally sexy.”

Her pulse on the inside of her ankles flutters against my fingertips as I slide my hands back up her legs. “I think you’re stubborn as hell.”

She exhales shakily as my fingertips play over the apex of her thighs through her panties. “Jase . . .”

“I think,” I murmur, lifting her up so she can wrap her legs around my hips and we’re eye to eye, “that you know how I feel, but that you also know saying it isn’t going to help anything when it comes to us.”

You’re a chickenshit, Gizmodo.

A fucking chickenshit.

Her eyes meet mine when I carry her, and I hope to fucking God she sees what I feel but can’t bring myself to say.

I’ve loved three people in my life besides my bandmates. My dad picked another life over me. My brother didn’t fight for me. And my mom left me.

People I love leave.

I hate how much I now fear that Hendrix will leave me too. I’m fairly certain that will crush me.