Leaving Amarillo(36)

Holding fire, I realize as we get in line. This is my brief time to hold the flames that will destroy me, burn me to ash, and scatter my soul in the wind. It’s that split second when the heat first hits, mercifully numbing the nerves before they alert the brain to the pain.

Several high-school-aged girls in front of us suddenly can’t concentrate on the flavors before them. They’re too busy giggling and glancing back at Gavin. He’s tall, dark, and still slightly sweat soaked from performing. His eyes are bright under the lights and his ink is alive with each movement of his arms. I can’t blame them. I look up at him and he doesn’t even notice. His eyes are focused on the display of flavors.

My mind slips back in time to the first time we had ice cream together. It was Gavin’s first time to ever have it and he swore it was heaven in his mouth. I’d bought it from the ice cream truck with change I’d saved up from my lunch money and shared with him. His eyes had closed and I’d fallen in love with him a little more that day. The boy who knew and understood the importance of savoring something sweet—because pleasure like that was rare—the same way that I did. My heart had broken wide open knowing that he’d lived twelve years and no one had ever given him ice cream. He’d moved into that broken place in my heart and remained there ever since.

“If I get sweet cream and strawberry, will you get—”

“Yeah, yeah,” he says. “You know I will.”

Gavin places a hand on the small of my back, and I’m smiling so hard at the guy taking our order he probably thinks I live for ice cream. Or I need to lower my dose.

We order and pay and walk out into the street with our desserts. I take a bite and sigh as the cool sweetness melts on my tongue and slides down my throat.

“So do you think Mandy will make an official offer?”

Gavin swallows his ice cream. “Seems like a distinct possibility.”

“Seems like an awfully big risk.”

Gavin gives me a questioning look and I hear what he doesn’t say. I’ve been an advocate of risks lately.

“Forget it,” I mutter, digging back into my two scoops. We come to a crosswalk and wait for the signal to change.

“No, I hear you. Any decisions we make that affect the band will affect all of us. Life is one big risk. You can’t really avoid them. No matter how hard you try.”

Once we’ve made it safely to the other side of the street, I slow my pace. “Am I supposed to be listening between the lines?”

Gavin tilts his head as if trying to determine what I mean. Understanding hoods his gaze and he silences me with unspoken words.

Shaking his head, he picks up speed. “If you’re this worried about how wrong everything can go, why do you want to do this?”

“This meaning the music or you?”

“Both.”

I take my time letting my ice cream melt in my mouth and then lick my lips. He watches me closely and I’m suddenly very aware that we’re not alone. The streets are busy, people still enjoying Austin nightlife.

“I guess,” I begin, lowering my voice and leaning toward him, “I expect it to be worth it.”

My words hang heavily in the air between us.

“Ready to switch?” Gavin says, straightening his back and handing his cup of chocolate over to me when we enter the hotel lobby.

“Sure.” I give him mine, our fingers grazing as he takes the cup. The electricity from the charged connection zaps my mind blank and all I can focus on is the need building inside of me. Somehow we’ve reached the elevator, but I don’t want to walk away yet.

Surely our one night will cure me of this. It has to. Because nothing could be worse than wanting and not knowing exactly what it is that I want.

“You’re going to have to stop it with those looks or whether or not Mandy Lantram signs us is going to be the least of our problems.”

“What looks?”

Gavin is staring intently at me with careful restraint in his eyes. Has he been talking to me and I missed it?

He takes a huge bite and I have to wait for him to finish it before he answers me. He shifts his body weight forward, leaning into my space as we wait for the elevator.

“You give me these looks sometimes—like that one,” he points his spoon at me. “Your eyes go dark and right now, without Dallas or anyone else around to stop me, all I can think is how good this ice cream would taste if I was licking it off your body instead of this plastic spoon.”

He shrugs like he didn’t just send me up in a flaming inferno of need. I flew too close, got burned, and now I want more.

The elevator opens and I walk inside and jab the button displaying the number of my floor. Just mine, not his. He watches me, the surprise evident on his face.

He stands with confusion pulling his features inward. “Dixie, what are you—”

I will make it impossible for him to say no, somehow. I have five floors on the elevator to figure it out. My heart rises into my throat as we make our way upward.

Taking his hand without permission, I pull him from the car the second the doors open. I let go long enough to retrieve my key card from my bra and slam it into the slot on the door. Thankfully it cooperates, and we enter my darkened room. The curtains are open and the streetlamps provide enough of a glow that I can see my way to the bed.

I place my ice cream on the bedside table and lift my tank top slowly over my head. Facing Gavin in my jeans and strapless black satin bra, I sit down tentatively on the edge of the mattress. I’m waiting for him to grab me, to hand my shirt back to me, and tell me to stop this nonsense right this instant. But he doesn’t. His eyes are lit from somewhere inside of him, shining brightly with desire, and he’s staring intently in a way that I would mistake for anger, but he’s still here. He’s not running or storming out.