Page 9 of The Aster Valley Collection, Vol. 1

WINTER

I spent three weeks in an orgasm-fueled haze.

My workdays were full of the kind of clinical practice I’d worked so hard to qualify for, and my nights were full of Gent.

His warm and sensuous body, his kind and caring inquiries of my life, and his sweet, soothing voice as he sang his new songs to me by the fire.

He was the living embodiment of the fictional rock star I’d had a crush on for so long.

How was it possible he was even more amazing in person than I’d imagined him to be?

Gent was easy to be with. He showed genuine interest in my life and was willing and able to share vulnerable truths about his own life, too.

At one point I asked him if he was afraid of me selling his story to the press.

“Baby, if you need money that badly, let me help you,” he’d said with a smirk. “But if you want fame, go for it. If that’s what would make you happiest, do it.”

And I felt like he’d really meant it. Maybe it was because I’d had a hard time accepting anything from him as it was. When he’d offered to pay me back for the pizza that second night, I’d bitten his head off in snap of defensiveness. I didn’t ever want him to think I was using him.

It wasn’t until the last night of his time in Aster Valley that things between us got weird.

“You never invite me to your place,” he said for the millionth time. “I want to meet Dillie and see where you live so I can picture you after I’m gone.”

My face heated with embarrassment. What would he do when he learned just how broke I really was?

I didn’t want him to pity me. But it was the last night.

I was never going to see him again, and as silly as it sounded…

I wanted him to meet Dillie, too. I was going to be spending a lot of time talking (and probably crying) about him to my cat, so it made sense for Dillie to know who I was going on and on about.

“Okay,” I finally said. “But you need to keep your expectations low.” I glanced at him out of the corner of my eye as I led us out to my jeep. “Like… trailer park low.”

I watched for his reaction. He’d ridden in my jeep many times by now.

We’d gone into town to eat at the diner, and we’d walked around the shops of Aster Valley together.

I’d even let Gent drop me off at work one day so he could use the jeep to run some errands.

He’d brought me lunch and made my coworkers shriek and fangirl like lunatics.

I’d secretly loved every minute of it. The nurses and office staff had treated me like I was some kind of romantic hero after that. “Omigod, I cannot believe you’re dating Gentry Kane!” Annabelle had repeated several times the following day.

“I’m not. We’re just friends,” I’d tried correcting her even though my face was probably bloodred.

“Pfft. You obviously didn’t see the way he was looking at you. He looked like he wanted to eat you with a spoon.”

Aaron, the clinic receptionist, had nodded energetically. “Mmhm. Totally. And dear god, I’d eat him with a spoon any day. You should sneak some sedatives into his drink and take advantage of that boy while you can.”

Everyone gathered around the front desk gossiping about it gasped and giggled. Despite the creepy nature of his suggestion, the consensus was an emphatic approval to his plan.

But now it was all over. He was leaving tomorrow for home. After a few days in LA, he’d be halfway around the world on his down-under tour.

“My place isn’t exactly clean,” I warned, pointing him to take a left at the light. He’d insisted on driving since I’d had a long day full of patients with few breaks between. “I haven’t been around much these days to tidy up.”

Gent’s hand squeezed my knee. “I don’t care. I just want to learn more about you and pet Dillie if she’ll let me.”

As we approached my part of town, I realized I was biting my fingernail. I quickly clasped my hands together tightly in my lap. “It’s just temporary, you know? Until I can afford better.”

When we finally pulled into the spot next to my place, he turned off the engine and faced me. “Stop,” he said softly. “Give me more credit than judging you by the house you live in, please.”

He was right, of course. But it didn’t magically make me less self-conscious. I nodded and opened the door, looking immediately for a cat-shaped blanket lump on the sofa. Dillie came wandering out of the bedroom instead, her little nose working overtime on the new arrival.

“Hey, sweet baby,” Gent murmured as he squatted down and held his hands out.

And that was it. I completed my ridiculous swan dive into full-on love with Gent. With the real man behind a global celebrity who I could never really have. And who was leaving tomorrow to continue his big life.

“I’m going to miss you,” I admitted, feeling my throat swell. “Like… a lot.”

He finished scratching Dillie’s chin and stood up before grabbing me in a tight hug. “You too. Fuck, Winter. I don’t want to leave.” Gent pulled back and clasped me by the face. “If you didn’t have such a great job here, I’d ask you to come with me.”

I huffed out a laugh. “Not sure being a groupie pays well.”

He pulled me in for a soft kiss which turned into more as it always did between the two of us. It was different this time, of course, because now I was desperately filing it away in my memory banks for later.

Gent finally broke the kiss. “I… um…” He looked down and then out the living room window and then back at me with a sheepish grin. “I wrote a song.”

My stomach tumbled a little every time he talked about his music. I craved new songs from him, and I felt honored to be one of the first to hear the music he’d been creating this month in his little cabin in the woods.

“Another one? That’s six songs you’ve written in, like, three weeks? Will you play it for me?”

He always did, so I was surprised when he shook his head.

“It’s not ready yet. But I was thinking…

” He swallowed, and it occurred to me he was nervous.

Gent always seemed so together, so confident and relaxed.

“If I get it where I want it by the end of the tour… can I come back here and play it for you?”

The air whooshed out of me, and my chin trembled. All I could do was nod and try not to cry and freak him out. I hugged him again as hard as I could. “That would be really nice,” I managed to say in a rough voice.

“I don’t want this to be the last time we see each other, Winter,” he said softly. “I don’t really have much to offer you in the way of time, and you know I don’t really do relationships, but… I…”

“Same,” I whispered before clearing my throat. “I like you too much to let go.”

He smiled, but in his eyes I saw a kind of relief I wasn’t expecting. “Then… you’ll let me call you and we can stay in touch? And then when I get back to the States I can schedule another visit?”

I nodded and grinned, giddy with the knowledge this was no longer goodbye. “Absofuckinglutely. Now… how about a tour of my place? We can start with the bedroom.”

The next day wasn’t easy, by any means, but it was a hell of a lot easier leaving for work knowing I might see him again in a few months.

I tried to stay busy, and even had a few mobile client visits that evening that I’d specifically scheduled in hopes of throwing myself straight into bed the first night of Gent’s absence.

But when I got home, I saw that he’d left me something on my kitchen counter.

It was a note with a little computer flash drive sitting on top. The note said:

Winter,

I recorded the new songs for you since I thought you might like them (but I knew you’d never ask for them).

I also included copies of all the selfies and videos we took together this month.

I wish we’d had more time. There are so many things I haven’t had a chance to tell you yet.

Like how I sometimes play with that little curl by your ear when you sleep, and how I want to laugh every time I hear you humming the Happy Birthday song while you brush your teeth.

And how proud I am to know you as a friend, as a patient, as a man.

Our story isn’t over yet. Hopefully, it’s just beginning.

I tried so hard not to do this to you, but I can’t help it. I’m too selfish. So here it is…

Please wait for me.

Gent

I slapped the note to my chest and blinked up at the ceiling.

A ridiculous grin stretched my cheeks. Holy fuck.

Gentry Kane wanted me to wait for him. What were the chances he’d still feel this way in three or four months?

Pretty slim. But I was going to walk on air in the meantime and hope like hell I saw other signs along the way that would confirm this was real.

The first sign came three days later when a coach bus full of tourists drove off the highway and flooded the hospital with trauma patients.

It was all-hands on deck for anyone associated with the hospital, and I helped organize friends and family around the clock as they trickled into town in search of news of their loved ones.

The accident had made national news, and the press was out in droves.

Gent heard about it when he landed in Sydney and immediately called to ask if I was okay.

It was so good to hear his voice. I assured him I was fine, just sad and exhausted like all of the rest of the hospital staff, when I had to cut our call short to deal with another group of people who’d arrived.

Only two hours later, a delivery van showed up with stacks and stacks of pizza boxes and cases of water and soda for all of the hospital staff, injured tourists, and their friends and family.

“Who sent this stuff?” someone asked around a mouthful. “This is a godsend. I’m starving.”