“Not at all. I fucking hated it. But for the first time in two years, I was doing what we said we would, and I was scared if I unblocked you, I’d fall back into old patterns. The plan was to unblock you when you either got here”—he gestures around the tour bus—“or I got my MBA. One or the other.”
“And when you graduated, you forgot?”
“When I graduated, I … I chickened out.”
“What? Why?”
“You literally hit number one on iTunes three months before I got my MBA.”
“So?”
Locke winces at my raised voice. “So I’d literally be contacting you as soon as you got famous. It felt … wrong. Like you’d think I was only after your fame or your money.”
“Sher—Sorry, Locke. That’s going to be hard to get used to.” I turn sideways on the bench seat, bending my knee so I can fit. “I would never think you’re after my fame.”
“Deep down, I probably knew that. But I was also going through this huge transitional time in my life. I was about to graduate, I had a few offers for jobs in my field, but all of it seemed … pointless. I’d been studying too hard for too long, and I thought it would’ve been different. I thought I’d feel accomplished or something. I left you to go to a top school so I could get an awesome job and earn lots of money, but it didn’t feel right.”
“What did feel right?”
“Nothing. I saw you, saw how far you’d come with music, and when I looked at my future with numbers, there was nothing but dread in the pit of my stomach. So, I did what any recent graduate going through an existential crisis would do.”
“Picked up a drug habit, gambling addiction, and got thrown out of every casino in Vegas?”
Locke snorts. “No. I went backpacking around the world. Saw a lot of Europe.”
My eyebrows shoot up in surprise. “No fucking way. That’s awesome.”
“It was. And when I came home, I felt that accomplishment I was searching for, but—”
“You could have tracked me down whenever you wanted. I couldn’t find you. I looked for Sherlock Emerson everywhere. Guess I know why I couldn’t find you, Locke.”
“Things got a little complicated after I got back from Europe. When you and I broke up, it damn near killed me. I’d built up this thing in my head that fate would bring us back together. Whether by chance or … here.”
“Ten years …”
He nudges me. “Hey, do you remember one of the first things you ever said to me when I transferred to your school?”
“You’re hot, I’m gay, please tell me you’re gay too? That’s my usual line.”
Locke laughs. “No. It was, ‘My name is Cashton Kingsley. You should remember that because one day it’s going to be everywhere.’ You accomplished everything you knew you would when you were sixteen years old. I know I made the right choice back then. Otherwise you wouldn’t have all this.”
I hate when he’s right. Which is always. “What do you do now?” It’s weird to me that he’s had this whole life I know nothing about.
“I’m one of many financial managers for a casino in Vegas.”
“Damn, boy. Guess that’s why you’re wearing a suit.”
“Well, that, and I … I wanted to look good for you.” Locke laughs. “It was ironic I spent years trying to forget you only to have you hit it so big there’s no escaping you. Or your songs.” He leans in. “Your set was amazing by the way. Did you really lose a bet, or was Katy Perry for my benefit?”
“One hundred percent you, and the guys have already told me I owe them. Big-time. I’m kinda picturing foot rubs and guitar tuning for the next year.”
“Worth it?”
With the way he’s looking at me? “Hell fucking yeah.”
“Was …” He licks his lips. “Was the one about the ends of the earth for me too?”
I half want to play on it a bit, but he stares at me with those vulnerable green eyes. “What gave it away? That it was entirely about us or … that it was entirely about us.”
Locke smiles.
“Don’t be too happy about it. The crowd wasn’t too into it. I doubt it’ll get recorded.”
“Like I care about that. You wrote that song for me. After all these years …”
“You’ve always been there for me in one way or another. Even if it’s only been wistful memories.” I lower my head and my voice. “Getting here has basically been my only goal for the last ten years. I’d hoped you’d be here, and even though Seb kept telling me you wouldn’t show, I held out. Until Thorne told me you didn’t pick up the tickets I left for you. That’s why I’m in here at all.” I gesture around the bus.