I shook my head. “I get that you’re lonely, but—”
“No. Think about it,” he said, tone adamant. “I’m not over you, that’s the truth. Not even remotely. It’s been a year, and every song is still about you. About us. Even the stuff I’m writing now. No other woman has gotten to me like you do. Tonight has made me realize I have no interest in moving on, and I think maybe deep down, you’re feeling that way too.”
“This may shock and stun you, but I haven’t spent the last twelve months dragging my ass around being the sad girl over you.” I laughed. And it was mostly true. Mostly.
“Not what I’m saying.”
“Then what are you saying?”
He sat up straighter and stared me in the eye. “Jill, I’m better than I was. Let me show you.”
“Really? Seems to me you’re still hiding out in bars and making it all about the music. Which hey, it’s paying off for you, and that’s great. But what on earth makes you think now is the time to try and start or re-start something?” I sighed. “You’re about to go to Europe, for heaven’s sake. Shouldn’t you be focusing on that?”
“Come with me.”
Mouth hanging open and eyes wide, I couldn’t have been more stunned if I tried. “W-what?”
“Come with me,” he repeated. “It’s a paid job. My hair needs you.”
I snorted.
“You always wanted to travel. Here’s your chance.”
“I can’t just—”
“You can. Think about it. An all-expenses-paid trip that’ll help develop you professionally in a new area too.” He grinned. “C’mon, this is a great idea, stop making excuses.”
“Stop trying to push me,” I said. “I’m not sure I want to just up and leave everything on your say-so.”
“It’ll all be waiting for you when you come back.”
I took a deep breath. “Adam, I know you’re lonely, but this is a big deal for me. I have a job and an apartment and a life here. What if you change your mind and decide that having me around isn’t the constant party you seem to think it’ll be?”
“You still hate your manager?”
I lifted one shoulder. “Sort of.”
“They still overworking and underpaying you?”
“Y-e-a-h.”
“That won’t happen with me. Martha will find out what a good wage is for this sort of gig and all of your expenses will be taken care of.”
My mouth hung open. He was serious. Deadly so.
“You never did like the neighborhood the apartment is in either. I’ll pay out the lease, or you can with that check. Get a place you like better once we get back.”
I frowned. He had a point about the neighborhood.
“Thing is, this industry is all about the ups and downs. I may not always be in a position to offer you this.”
“Your fans love you.”
“No, they love the latest rock star, that’s all. They love Adam Dillon, whose songs are on everybody’s lips. They love what happened to me. What I did and what I turned into. But that’s not me. And it’s not forever.”
“I don’t know.”
“And this isn’t about me being lonely,” he tacked on.