Page 99 of Playing the Backbeat

Somewhere along the way, we became more. I didn’t fight it. Neither did she. But neither of us fought to keep it.

We barreled into this mess headfirst, no hesitation, unconcerned with the fallout. Then when we were headed off the edge of the cliff, we jumped, letting go of each other and allowing ourselves to plummet, completely falling apart.

Maybe I didn’t fight for us, but she didn’t either. I tried to get her to admit what she wanted between us, and she wouldn’t.

But you didn’t either.A furious, annoying-as-fuck voice screams at me.

Dom doesn’t have to tell me I fucked up. I know I did. I let my own fear of rejection, my own worries about things not working out in the long run, fuck up my chances with Dee. I wanted to hear her say she wanted me despite everything she’d learned about me before I was willing to put my heart on the line. I wanted to feel in control. I wanted a guarantee. But love doesn’t ever offer a guarantee.

There’s always been this quiet hum of anxiety, this endless blur of anxious thoughts thrumming through my head and pulsing in my veins. With Dee, my anxiety is different, but it can be just as stifling.

What if she decides you’re not good enough? What if she gets sick of you panicking when stress levels are high? What if she gets annoyed by having to reassure me that she’s all in?

But none of that sounds like the Dee I know.

The Dee I know builds everyone up. She doesn’t shy away from the hard shit; she leans in and finds a way to make all the fucked-up shit easier to deal with. She’s ice on sore muscles at the end of the day. She’s the calm in the storm when I feel lost in a sea of intrusive thoughts. She’s the reassuring voice talking me out of every worst-case scenario. And she did that all in the short time we lived together.

Then why—when it came to what mattered, when we needed to admit what we wanted—we couldn’t do it?

Fuck me, maybe we shouldn’t be together. We’re both too stuck and too stubborn to talk about anything serious. Except…we did. My anxiety. The way she was treated when she was younger. Our fears. Our hopes. We talked about everything that mattered…exceptus. We spent so much time catching up on the past and letting each other see the parts of ourselves that we never let shine before, we forgot to plan for the future. The one we could have had together.

And after everything she’s been through…when she needed reassurance, acceptance, and communication, I let her down. She grew up feeling undervalued, feeling judged, but she still let me in. She let meseeher.

She was in a vulnerable place, feeling rejected at work. All she wanted was to feel wanted, valued, appreciated.

“I fucked up,” I mutter.

“No shit. What are we going to do about it?”

“Wearen’t doing shit. I need to handle this.”

“Oh come on. You know I live for this stuff. Let me help.”

I rub a hand over my jaw, wondering where to start. Then I smile, knowing exactly who I need to talk to. Who I’ll need on my side if I want to get things back on track.

“Okay, Dom. There might be something you can do.”

Chapter forty-five

Dylan

Emi is chatting animatedly between Morgan and Kai as they walk toward me. I’m sitting on the edge of the stage, the lights throughout the hall all shining brightly since it’s a Tuesday evening and there’s no show tonight. I chuckle watching as Emi turns around to face her parents, waving her hands around and pointing to the spot where she, Dee, and I were standing when we saw one of her favorite bands perform at the Bridge months ago.

Emi beams at me. “Hey, dude, just catching them up on how much this place rocks.”

It’s only been a few weeks since I saw Dee’s cousin and her family, but seeing them here is another reminder of how much I miss the life I shared with Dee. Her family included.

I know my family feels the same. My parents have called me every weekend since I moved, begging me and Dee to come by again for game night. I’ve made excuses every time, not willing to admit that things between us are strained.

“Good to see you again, Dylan,” Kai says, nodding at me before letting his gaze wander over the space.

“Likewise.” I ease myself off the stage, standing a bit uncomfortably. I realize I’m fidgeting, one hand fisted and the other rubbing at my knuckles as if I were trying to wear my own skin off. I drop my hands to my side. “I’m grateful you were willing to meet with me.”

Kai glances at Morgan, who hasn’t said a word. Her arms are crossed across her chest, and she’s sitting into her hip, one foot kicked out like she’s utterly disinterested in this conversation. The stance is remarkably familiar. Dee has been known to send me the same withering stare too.

“What do you want? I thought you and Dee weren’t speaking.”

Has Dee told her that?