Rekindled with Rage

92: September 24th, 2023

"I'll head home now and pack an overnight bag," I laughed, hanging up the phone.

"Spending the night somewhere else?" Austin asked, coming out of his en suite. "It's the middle of the night, Liv."

"It's four in the morning actually," I teased.

"Who was that?"

"Jealousy doesn't suit you," I commented, looking him over. Jaw hardened. Eyes narrowed ever so accusingly at me. As if expecting me to have the audacity to answer another man's call, while naked in his bed, and say I was heading home to pack for said other person.

"That's not an answer."

I raised a brow, "Taylor. I promised her when she was ready and picked a date I would attend a football game with her."

"Football? Seriously?"

"She's dating a football player, no one knows."

"You think she can keep a low profile at the game?" He asked.

I shrugged, "if anyone can go unseen, it's her. She'd find a way. But I think, she and this guy are in a good place surprisingly quick. I'm not sure how private they're going to be. Her last relationship was on the down low. And she lost this... glow. I can relate. It's demeaning and wearing on you to hide something like a serious relationship, especially when it means skipping events together or in general. I just think, she's ready for the spotlight. She soaked up so much of the attention on her tour. She looks amazing. She looks happy. I can't see her or him for that matter wanting to hide from the world."

"Uh-huh."

"You couldn't care less?" I assumed, chuckled.

"Not really. I don't know her. I don't know the guy. But I'm listening. And I'm trying to piece together the part where you found it... demeaning, to be hidden in a relationship, yet here you are desperate for no one to know you spend every night in my bed."

"That's different," I said, smiling.

"Is it?"

"Yes. It's been a week of sleepovers."

"Uh-huh. But last I checked, it's not just sex. I cook you breakfast in the morning. I've bought you gifts all week, every time I do manage to leave the house. We've gone on dozens of dates. And here I am, just a piece of meat to you?" He asked, slightly amused.

"Austin," I sighed, holding the sheets to my body as I slid out of bed now. "We're having fun—"

"Don't do that," he cut me off. "Don't talk to me like a child. And don't belittle what's happening here. You like me. You want to be with me. Or you wouldn't spend nearly 24/7–"

"Oh, my god!" I exclaimed. "Fine. I like you. Why don't you just ask me what you really want to know? Hmmm?"

"Be my girlfriend."

"That's not a question," I said. "And I'm not sure I'm what you are looking for. It's been a month, Austin. What if in another week or two, we're bored of each other?"

He rolled his eyes, "You don't believe that."

"I believe we don't have time for closing arguments. I have to go home and pack."

I dropped the sheet and began getting dressed. I was expecting to get maybe another round of sex before driving the forty minutes home. And now we were fighting about something I didn't want to be. Not that he was wrong. I just wasn't sure what I wanted. And I didn't want to lead him on or get his hopes up. But he was fair in his assessment. I get attached and clingy when I like a guy and things are going well. But I've been hurt too many times. I was protecting my heart.