Misadventures of a College Girl (Misadventures #9)(54)
“Crash into Me” is playing on low volume as Tyler slowly makes love to me on top of our fluffy hotel bed. I figured after the thrill of Tyler’s top five selection today, he’d be so amped, we’d go back to our hotel room and fuck like monkeys to celebrate. But, nope. It seems after this exciting and surreal day, Tyler wants to celebrate his triumph by reveling in my body with slow and sensuous strokes. And I’m not complaining.
Tyler pulls my arms above my head, clasps my fingers in his, and kisses me deeply as his hips move deliciously on top of mine. “So glad you’re here with me,” he whispers, his voice husky.
I squeeze Tyler’s fingers in mine, close my eyes, and inhale, taking in his masculine scent. Ah, yes, that’s the drug, baby. It’s the scent that makes me pilfer Tyler’s lightly worn T-shirts from his hamper and wear them to bed whenever we’re apart.
Tyler reaches down between our bodies and massages my swollen tip as he slides in and out of me. “You’re my lucky beaver-charm, pretty baby,” he whispers as his fingers work me.
A moment later, I climax, gritting out Tyler’s name as I do, and shortly thereafter, he growls and shudders on top of me with a release of his own.
After some tender kissing, Tyler rolls off me and we lie together, nose to nose. We talk about the unbelievable day. About how shocked and touched we both were when his dad cried. About how Tyler doesn’t even remember walking up to that stage after his name was called. And then, out of nowhere, I think I detect anxiety flickering across Tyler’s beautiful face.
“Is something wrong?” I ask.
“I’m just wondering when rehearsals start for you. Sorry. I know you already told me. I can’t keep anything straight.”
Two weeks ago, I auditioned for the lead role in UCLA’s spring-quarter mainstage production of Carrie, a musical based on the book and movie of the same name. And much to my shock, I got the part. I hadn’t expected to get into the show at all, let alone to be cast as Carrie herself. I’d only auditioned to get some auditioning experience. But that’s life for you. Sometimes, it’ll shock you.
“My first rehearsal is Monday,” I reply, and the minute the words leave my mouth, I regret taking the role. Now that Tyler and I have only a few weeks together before he’ll have to leave for Miami, I want to spend every possible minute of them with him.
“That’s great,” Tyler says. “I’m glad you’ll have something to keep you extra busy.”
“No, it’s terrible,” I reply. “Rehearsals are going to cut into our time together before you leave. Did they give you a firm date for when you need to report for camp?”
That same anxiety from a moment ago flickers across Tyler’s face again. “Yeah. Um. It turns out there’s a rookie mini-camp next week.”
My heart stops. “Next week?”
“And then there’s a full rookie camp a couple weeks after that. Followed by training camp for the entire team in July. I’m sure I’ll be able to get back to LA to see every performance of your show. But that’s probably going to be the last time I’ll be able to get to LA ’til January.”
I can’t believe it. I was counting on having weeks with Tyler before he had to leave for training camp in Miami. I wasn’t mentally prepared for him to leave next week. “So we’ve only got a week before you have to leave?”
Tyler twists his mouth. “Actually, uh, I’ve got to head to Miami…” He takes a deep breath. “I’ve got to head out there in three days, Zooey.”
Time stops. I can’t breathe. “Three days?” I choke out.
“Just enough time for me to head back to LA with you, pack a bag, and fly back out.”
Tears threaten but I force them down. Tyler doesn’t need to see me fall apart. Not today. Not ever, actually. Today, his dream, the dream he’s shared with his father his entire life, the dream he believes his mother would have wanted for him, has finally come true. The impact of his dream fulfillment on our relationship is irrelevant, and I know it. I came here to support him and to be thrilled for him, come what may, and that’s what I’m going to do. “Sounds exciting,” I manage to say brightly. “How long will you be out there?”
He looks stressed. “I don’t know how long I’ll be gone on this first trip. While I’m in Miami, I’m gonna have to start looking for a place to live. I’ll definitely come back and see your show, for sure, like I said, but shortly after that, I’ve got to get settled into my new…home.”
Home. Such a loaded word. But it’s the right one, isn’t it? Tyler won’t be visiting Miami. He’ll be living there for God knows how long. Maybe even forever.
Tyler touches my cheek. “I’m sorry, baby.”
“I’ll apply to the University of Miami,” I blurt, panic descending upon me. “I’m sure they’ve got a theater program there. And if they don’t, then I’ll study, I don’t know, English or communications.”
For a long moment, Tyler doesn’t react to my outburst, other than to gently stroke my hair like he’s calming a stray dog at the pound. “You can’t move to Miami, beaver,” he finally says. “You’d be miserable there.”
“I’ll be even more miserable without you.”