falls away from my face.
Finally, I say with reluctance, “It depends on what it is.”
She doesn’t fight it, but I see the disappointment in her expression.
“Promise me we’ll get back to normal. That’s all I ask, Andrew. I miss the way we were before. I miss our crazy times together and our crazy sex and your crazy dimples and your crazy, vibrant, life-loving attitude.”
“Do you miss the road?” I ask, and the light snaps out of her face as if I’ve said something horribly wrong.
Her eyes stray from mine and she seems lost in some deep, dark moment.
“Camryn … do you miss the road?” I need the answer to this question now more than I did seconds ago, because of her unexpected reaction to it.
After a long, silent moment she looks at me again and I feel lost in her eyes, though in an uncomfortable way.
She doesn’t answer. It’s like … she can’t.
Not knowing what’s going on inside of her head and eager to find out, I finally say, “We can do it now.” I place my hands on her upper arms. “Maybe that’s exactly what you … I mean, we need.” As the idea comes together on my tongue, I get more excited by the second just thinking about it. Camryn and me. On the open road. Living free and in the moment like we had planned to do. I realize I’m smiling hugely, my face lit up with excitement. Holy shit! Yes, this is what we need to do. Why didn’t I think of this before?
“No,” she says flatly, and her answer snaps me right out of that blissful, dreamlike state.
“No?” I can hardly believe it, or understand it.
“No.”
“But … why not?” I ask and she walks away from me casually. “There’s no reason we have to wait anymore.”
I understand in this very second the reason behind her answer. But I don’t have to be the one to bring it up because she does it for me.
“Andrew,” she says, her expression soft with regret, “if we did that it would always linger in the back of my mind that it was something we were putting off because of the baby. It wouldn’t feel right to do it now. Not for a while. A long while.”
“OK,” I say and step up to her. I nod and smile warmly, hoping to make her understand that no matter what she wants to do, or not do, I’m behind her all the way.
“So, what level of bipolar did Natalie make me out to be today?” She laughs under her breath and goes over to the shopping bag she brought with her and reaches inside.
I laugh too and lie horizontally across her bed, my legs hanging over one side, bent at the knees.
“Level yellow,” I say. “Lowest level possible. But she made herself out to be a level red.” I tilt my head sideways to see her. “But I’m sure you already knew that.”
She smiles back at me and pulls a stack of panties out of the bag and starts peeling the sticker labels from the fabric.
“Well, I’m sure she filled your head full of stuff about how I went through a depression phase and all about the ‘shitty hand’”—she quotes with her fingers—“I was dealt.” She points at me, squinting one eye. “But that’s just it. It was a phase. I got over it. And besides, who doesn’t go through deaths in the family, divorces, and bad breakups? It’s ridiculous that—”
“Babe, what did I tell you before? Back in New Orleans?”
“You told me a lot of things.” She tosses the sticker labels into the nearby wastebasket.
“About how pain isn’t a damn competition.”
“Yes, I remember,” she says. She starts to take the panties from the bed, but I reach over and snatch a few pairs off the top before she gets the chance. I hold up a pink lacy pair in front of me and set the other two pairs on my chest.
“Damn, I like these,” I say, and she snatches them from my fingers.
“Anyway,” she goes on, while I pick up the next two pairs and do the same thing, “I don’t want to talk about this stuff anymore, alright?” Then she snatches the last two pairs from my hands and makes her way to her top dresser drawer and stuffs them all inside.
She walks back over to me and crawls onto my lap, her knees buried in the blanket that covers the bed. I rub my hands back and forth over her thighs, on either side of me.
“I want to go out tonight,” she says. “What do you think?”
I curl my bottom lip between my teeth in thought and make a sucking sound just before I say, “Sounds like a plan. Where do you want to go?”
She smiles sweetly down at me as if she has been giving this plan a lot of thought today already. I love to see her smile like that. And it’s totally fucking real, so maybe Natalie is overacting, after all.
“Well, I thought we could go to the Underground with Natalie and Blake.”
“Wait, isn’t that the place that douchebag kissed you on the roof?”
“Yeah,” she says in a singsong voice. Damn, if she doesn’t stop moving around on my lap like that … “but that ‘douchebag’ is in jail for a year. And Natalie really wants us to go. She texted me about it just before I got here.”
“Sure she’s not trying to suck up to you because she’s got a guilty conscience?”
Camryn shrugs. “Maybe so, but it’ll be fun to go, regardless. And it’ll be nice to watch live bands play rather than be on the stage for a change.”
She lies across my chest, and I reach down and fit her perfectly shaped ass in the palms of my hands and squeeze. She kisses me, and I move my hands up and wrap my arms tight around her body.
“All right,” I say softly when the kiss breaks and her lips linger an inch from mine. I run my fingers through her hair and then hold her head in place with her cheeks in my hands. “The Underground it is. And then tomorrow I’m going to fly back to Texas and start packing.”
“I hope you’re OK with me not going,” she says.
“Yeah, I’m fine with it.” I kiss her forehead. “Y’know, you never did say whether or not you were going to have Natalie go with you to look for an apartment.”
She lifts up, straightening her back and then grabs my hands, interlocking our fingers.
“I’ll get around to it,” she says with a smile. “One step at a time, and right now the next step is getting ready to go out tonight.”
I nod, smiling back at her, and then I squeeze her hands and pull her down toward me again.
“You’re the world to me,” I whisper onto her lips. “I hope you never forget that.”
“I’ll never forget,” she whispers back and moves her hips very subtly on my lap. Then she nudges my lips with her own and says just before kissing me, “But if I ever do, for whatever reason, I hope you’ll always find a way to remind me.”
I study her mouth and then her cheeks resting underneath the pads of my thumbs.
“Always,” I say and kiss her ravenously.
It’s been a while since the last time I partied at a club like the Underground before. Hell, I’m only twenty-five, and that place made me feel old. I guess spending most of my bar and club nights in more laid-back places like Old Point made me forget that heavy metal exists. Hey, I like heavy metal, but give me the old stuff any day. Camryn and I spent the night with Blake and Natalie, listening to some band who