Fragile by A.K. Evans

Nineteen

Cash

“I miss you already.”

I watched as the tears leaked from Demi’s eyes and spilled down her cheeks. With each one that fell, I felt like my heart was being ripped out of my chest. Seeing Demi so upset simply killed me.

The last few days were some of the best days of my life. Considering what I did for a living—the things I’ve experienced, the places I’ve been—I felt it was only a testament to just how special Demi is.

I held her close as we stood at the top of my driveway. It was very early Tuesday morning, and Demi had to leave to head to the airport.

I didn’t want her to go. I wanted to take her with me. In fact, I’d finally brought that up to her yesterday morning before we even got out of bed.

“Will you stay with me?” I asked her.

“What?” she replied, her body going rigid.

“I don’t want you to leave me and go back to New Hampshire,” I told her.

There was a lengthy pause before she noted, “I’m not leaving you. I’m just going home.”

It felt like she was leaving. I wanted her to feel like her home was wherever I was because I was starting to feel that way about her.

As I sat there contemplating her words, wishing things had been different, Demi spoke again.

“And can I just add that you’re also leaving me?” she countered.

“But I’m prepared to take you with me,” I noted.

She was silent for a long time before she rasped, “I’d take you with me, too.”

We were curled up in bed with her back pressed to my front. At her declaration, I kissed her bare shoulder and said, “If I was the sole member of My Violent Heart, I’d cancel the rest of the tour and go with you.”

Demi shifted her body and pushed her shoulder into my chest. I scooted back to give her the space to fall to her back. Then I propped my head up in my hand to look down at her face. When her eyes connected with mine, she said, “You’re not serious. Your music means everything to you.”

“So do you.”

Her lips parted in shock.

Maybe that had been too much for her to hear so soon. I didn’t know, and honestly, I didn’t care. It was the truth, and if anyone needed to know the truth, it was her.

“Cash…” She trailed off.

I brought my hand up to the side of her face, stroked my thumb along her cheek, and rasped, “I don’t know what I’m going to do not being able to touch you or kiss you for weeks, firecracker.”

Her emotions started to get the best of her because her eyes got wet, and she whispered, “We’ll figure it out. We can make it work.”

I knew we would because not working it out wasn’t an option. But it killed me to think we even had to take those steps to begin with.

Unable to stand the sad look in her eyes, I couldn’t talk about it any longer. So, I dropped my mouth to hers and kissed her. From there, I took things slow. Everything from the kissing and touching to the penetration and orgasm. I wanted it to last forever; there was no race. We had nowhere to be, and I was going to take my time savoring her, hoping that it would help me cope without her while I was on the road.

Now that we were here outside the house and she was minutes away from leaving, I knew that everything I’d done over the last few days to prepare myself for this wasn’t going to be enough. There was no good way to cope with something like this. I couldn’t imagine a time when I’d ever want to be separated from her for an extended period of time.

I didn’t know how I was going to do this.

I had gotten used to it. To having her there. To having her body beside mine at night when I went to sleep and every morning when I woke up. To having her ass settled in my lap while she let me feed her breakfast. To having her smile at me.

There was so much.

And while there was a lot that was physical between us—we’d certainly had our fair share of sex over the last few days—there was so much more that I enjoyed about being with her.

It was all in the kind of person she was. Deep down, she truly cared about people. She got along well with the rest of the band. I’d even go so far as to say that she and Holland were well on their way to becoming great friends. Everyone liked her. She was interested in me, my music, and my family.

Just yesterday, she asked me about what it was like growing up in Pennsylvania.

“Why are you here?” she asked.

“What?”

“In Pennsylvania,” she clarified. “You, and the rest of the band, are here. It’s surprising that none of you moved out to Hollywood. Wouldn’t there be even more opportunity?”

I shrugged. “Maybe. Probably. We go on tours, and we do the interviews. But the truth is, we’re not necessarily interested in the publicity or the fame. We just like making music that people love. Some of what we do is necessary to make that happen. But moving away from what’s been home for so long isn’t going to change our perspective on that. We can still do everything we do from here. So, from where we stand, why leave the place that we love for a life we don’t want?”

“That makes sense. And I think it’s really cool that you all have this place that you’re attached to,” she remarked.

“Unlike you, who is only attached to the people in New Hampshire,” I responded.

She grinned. “Exactly.”

Recalling that conversation as I held her in my arms this morning, I started to wonder if maybe I’d be able to convince her to come back here with me when the tour was over. She’d already admitted it wasn’t about the location for her. And New Hampshire wasn’t far from Pennsylvania. We could always go back and forth so she could see the people who were important to her.

I just knew that I was going to miss her too much to maintain something long-distance for an extended time.

And apparently, she felt the same considering she’d just claimed she already missed me and hadn’t even left yet.

“I know. I feel the same way,” I told her as I held her face in my hands and wiped her tears away.

“I don’t want to leave,” she whispered.

I tipped my head to the side, simply trying to focus on something else other than the pain in my chest. “So stay,” I urged. “Come with me.”

Demi’s head fell forward and landed on my chest. Her arms grew tighter around me. “I can’t,” she said. “I’ve got to go back and work. I can’t leave Cal hanging.”

I wanted to tell her that I thought her cousin would understand and that she needed to do what was best for her. But I didn’t. The last thing I wanted was to make this harder for her.

As much as I wanted her to come with me and make herself happy, she needed to be the one to make that decision.

“I know,” I replied, my hands running through locks of her hair in what was a feeble attempt to comfort the both of us.

Eventually, Demi pulled her face back, tipped her chin up, and said, “I have to go now.”

I nodded, unsure if I could even formulate a response that wouldn’t reveal just how much this was affecting me. I gave myself a few seconds to get my emotions under control and urged, “Call me when you get to the airport, okay?”

“Yeah.”

“We’ll get through this, Demi. I promise.”

She nodded her understanding, but I wondered if she believed me.

A moment later, we were moving toward her rental car. We stopped just beside it and kissed one last time.

Weeks.

I’d have to endure weeks of not having this. Of not kissing her. Of not feeling my tongue gliding against hers.

There was so much I wanted to say but didn’t have the time to communicate. I hoped this kiss gave her even just a fraction of what I wanted her to know.

When our mouths separated, she cried quietly, “Good luck on the rest of the tour.”

“Have a safe flight home,” I responded.

She folded in behind the wheel and looked up at me. “I’ll see you soon.”

I didn’t know if she was trying to make herself or me feel better. It wasn’t going to be soon. At least, not soon enough. Even still, I said, “I’ll see you soon.”

With that, I closed her door. She started the car, turned around at the top of the driveway, and waved at me before she drove to the end of it.

I kept my eyes on the car knowing that I wasn’t going to be the same until I was with her again because when she left, she took my heart with her.

Demi

“It sounds like you had the best time.”

That came from Sam.

I’d barely been home a full twenty-four hours, and I was sitting beside her on a stool at Granite. It had become our thing over the last few years. When we were both working at the hotel, we’d come into Granite, visit with Cal, and talk about everything that had happened at work that was stressing us out.

Right now, it felt like old times.

I found that surprising considering I hadn’t been gone that long.

But my time in Pennsylvania with Cash had been incredible, and all I wanted to do was go back.

Sam hadn’t been wrong, I truly did have the best time over the last few days. But now that I was home, something was seriously missing in my life.

Cash.

I hated having to leave. I hated telling him I wouldn’t go on tour with him. But I wasn’t exactly sure it was what he wanted, so I made up the excuse that I couldn’t leave Cal hanging. Truthfully, I knew that Cal wouldn’t have cared because when I called him to extend my trip, he told me I should just go on the road with the band. I tried not to think about it after that fact.

Especially because Cash hadn’t asked.

And until Walker mentioned something to me at the cookout on Sunday, I hadn’t really thought about it again.

It wasn’t hard to see how horrible Walker felt that day for assuming that Cash would have asked me, so when I saw the two of them talking later in the day, I could only assume Walker was sharing what happened.

My suspicions were mostly confirmed the next morning when Cash asked me to go on tour with him. I just couldn’t agree to it when I believed that he only asked because Walker told him he should.

I wanted Cash to want me to come with him all on his own, without the encouragement from his bandmates.

And now that I was back here in Finch, I wished I would have just accepted his invitation.

“Do you realize that you’re one of the very few people who not only get to go backstage with My Violent Heart but also get to spend days living with the lead singer?” Cal interrupted my thoughts.

“I know. Aren’t you jealous?” I teased.

I was doing my best to appear happy because deep down, I was. It had just been difficult to adjust to the separation from Cash.

“I am,” Sam declared.

“Yep,” Cal agreed.

I grinned at them.

“So, how are you doing now that you’re back here?” Sam asked.

I shrugged. “I’m okay. It’s definitely not the same lifestyle, that’s for sure,” I answered.

Nodding, she said, “Right. I get that. But I’m talking about with Cash. I can’t even imagine how you two are going to go for weeks without seeing one another.”

“We’re working it out,” I assured her. “We’re going to talk every day, and we’ll even video chat. I’m sure time is just going to fly by, and before we know it, My Violent Heart will be back in Finch playing here at Granite.”

“Well, you’re a stronger woman than I am,” Sam announced.

If she only knew that I’d spent the night last night struggling not to break down into tears at every turn.

“Demi?” Cal called.

“Yeah?”

“I’m really happy for you, and I’m so proud of you for putting yourself out there,” he remarked.

His words made my heart melt. In so many ways, Cal had been like the brother I never had. To know he was proud of me was a big deal.

“Thanks, Cal. I’m proud of myself, too,” I responded. “I’m just trying to come to terms with it all.”

“What do you mean?” Sam asked.

I thought for a moment about it.

“For so long, I was adamant about never getting into a romantic relationship,” I began. “And now that I’m in one, I’m struggling to understand how it’s possible for me to feel this happy. How could I go from being so sure I’d never have this let alone want it to now being ridiculously, deliriously happy that I have it? Did I deny myself this experience all this time for no reason?”

Sam shook her head. “I don’t think so,” she insisted. “In my opinion, this is what it is for you because it’s not something you’ve ever had before. It’s that much more special because you’ve found someone who wanted to put in the work to make you feel safe and secure in him and what he was bringing to the table. I think if you had considered the possibility before Cash, you might not have gotten anything that even came close to resembling what you have now.”

I had a feeling she was right.

Nobody else would have ever compared to Cash. And now that I’d had him, I had no doubt that nobody else would ever live up to him.

“Yeah,” I agreed just as my phone buzzed on the bar beside me.

A text from Cash.

Cash: I’m about to head out on stage. Wish me luck.

I gave him what he wanted.

Me: You don’t need it, but good luck.

Cash: Call me when you wake up tomorrow morning, okay?

Me: I will.

I set the phone down and looked up at the two people in my life that I’d grown to depend on. They were both smiling at me.

“What?” I asked.

“You’re so happy,” Sam declared.

“I never thought I’d see the day that your face would light up while you text your boyfriend,” Cal said.

I wanted to roll my eyes. I should have, but I didn’t.

They weren’t wrong about any of it.

So, I let it go and smiled back.

And then I demanded a change in topic, which they both easily accommodated.

The truth was, as much as I knew they probably wanted to hear about Cash, I wasn’t ready for it. I knew I’d feel good in the moment when I was talking about him, but when I went home and crawled into my empty bed alone, I’d feel the sadness about missing him creeping in. I didn’t need to add in anything else that would make that harder than it already was.

And on a night like tonight, I had no doubt it was already going to be difficult. Because he was about to go out on stage.

I couldn’t stop myself from worrying about what might happen after the concert was over.