When Weston didn’t respond right away, I realized what I’d said. The photos of you with that guy. “I didn’t mean— I don’t think— I know we’re not— I have to go.”
“Wait, Anson. Don’t.”
I ended the call. My phone immediately rang again, but I didn’t answer and powered it all the way off.
I calmed myself down, slipped back behind my facade, put my glasses on, my hood up, and walked out of the room.
The next morning, I joked around with Darren about the night before, told him how much fun I’d had, that I needed to start going out with him more often.
I was so tired of being a liar, but at that point, I didn’t know how to be anything else.
Chapter Twelve
Weston
I had quite possibly made the biggest mistake of my life.
But the thing was, I didn’t do regret or what-ifs. Hell, half the time I didn’t even think things through as well as I should, and it had gotten me in trouble a time or ten.
Still, that didn’t stop me from making the same mistake again.
After Anson hung up on me, I spent the next few hours trying to call him. I couldn’t get the sound of his voice out of my head. The pain each and every word had carried when he’d cursed me for seeing it in him, for asking him to leave with me, when he’d mentioned seeing photos of me with Tim…
So I did what every obsessed stalker in my situation would do: I canceled my appointments and got on a plane.
It wouldn’t be hard to find out where Anson lived, but I wasn’t crazy enough to go to his place uninvited. Crazy enough to fly to Atlanta, yes, but I hadn’t completely lost my mind. I just couldn’t let last night go. I kept telling myself it was because of him, because he was alone, but I knew myself. I was a selfish motherfucker. This was about me too. Meeting Anson Hawkins had done something to me, and I wanted him more than I’d ever wanted anyone else. No two ways about it. I likely wouldn’t ever have him, but that knowledge didn’t stop the wanting.
I rented a car and went straight from the airport to my favorite hotel in Atlanta. I got a room and settled in before I called him. It was early evening. I had no idea if he was in town or when he would get back, but I assumed his flight from Colorado had been early. I hit his number and wasn’t surprised when he didn’t pick up, so I sent a text: I’m in Atlanta.
My phone rang less than a minute later.
“What are you doing here?” Anson said.
“I don’t know,” I answered honestly. I mean, I knew, but I wasn’t sure what I expected to happen. That me being in Georgia would make all Anson’s worries go away? “You’ve kind of fucked me up, and I don’t quite understand it.” There were plenty of men in California. I’d never traveled for one before, especially not one I knew I’d never feel beneath me.
“Gee, thanks.”
“Would you rather I lie?”
“No,” Anson replied. “I don’t…I don’t know what to say.”
“You can start by inviting me over.”
“To my house?”
“No, to the moon,” I teased. “I flew across the country to see you. It’s the least you can do.” I hoped he heard the smile in my voice. I thought maybe he did when it sounded like there was one in his too.
“I didn’t ask you to do that. I’m considering a restraining order.”
“I still deserve points for the grand gesture. But tell me to leave, and I’m gone. Tell me to stop calling, and I’ll stop. Tell me. That’s all you have to do. You won’t, though, because you don’t want me to.”
We were both quiet for a moment. If he was anything like me, Anson was wondering how in the hell this happened. How we’d gone from sitting in a hotel bar together, to me flying to Atlanta to see him.
“I don’t know if I can,” he finally answered.
“Then don’t invite me over, but answer the door when I get there.”
He breathed, and I listened, waiting. “And if I say no?”
“Then, like I said, I’ll leave. I’m not going to push you. This isn’t ideal for me. You could very easily tell the press that a crazy senator from California is stalking you.” Seriousness washed over me. I tried to ignore it, but the pull was too strong to contain. “I’d really like to see you. I can’t stop thinking about what you said to me last night. Hell, half the things you’ve said to me since we met are on repeat in my head. You intrigue me. I don’t like it, but I can’t seem to do anything about it.”