Page 22 of Unholy Confessions (The Paper Rings Trilogy #1)

Montgomery

S kylar left late last night, but she gave me a lot to think about.

Which is why I'm tapping my finger against RJ's name on my cell phone.

Am I being fair? There are assumptions I have about him, but we haven't actually been able to spend much time together since he came home because of my crazy schedule.

Maybe what I need to do instead of making demands and having suspicions is spend time with him. Ask him to go on a date with me. Like we did before this tour. I don't know what it was about this tour that changed so much between us.

Before I can second-guess myself, I type out a message.

M: Want to go on a day date with me? Like old times?

The response comes back faster than I expected.

R: Of course. I'd love to do anything with you. When?

Before I can talk myself out of it, I answer in a flurry of fingers and feelings.

M: Today? Nashville Zoo?

R: Perfect. Pick you up at 11?

I smile for the first time in days.

M: I'll be ready.

RJ shows up right on time, and when I see him leaning against his truck, hands shoved deep in his pockets, something in my chest loosens.

He's wearing dark jeans and a simple black t-shirt, his hair still messy from sleep, and he looks like the boy I fell in love with in high school.

The smile on his face is the same one he used to give me back when we were only best friends.

"Hey, beautiful," he says, pulling me into his arms.

"Hey yourself," I murmur against his chest, breathing in the scent that's just his. It's the smell that always makes me feel comfortable and protected. I close my eyes and sink back into everything that's familiar.

We get in the truck, and when we're buckled in and we have a good song playing on the radio, he glances over at me. "Ready to go?"

"As I'll ever be."

We're singing along to an old Backstreet Boys song, laughing at each other when he stops and slams on his horn. "Fuckin' asshole. He almost came over into my lane."

"Nashville traffic sucks so hard," I groan.

"Worst in the goddamn world, I swear," he grumbles.

"And we always made fun of your mom for bitching about it. Listen to us."

We glance at each other and laugh with the absurdity of it. This is everything we always used to have together, and I missed the hell out of it.

We get to the zoo and RJ pays my way. The minute we enter, something happens that's only ever happened a handful of times before. I'm not exactly prepared for it, and I definitely haven't been anticipating it.

"Oh my God, is that RJ Thompson?"

The voice comes from a group of teenage girls near the entrance, and I watch as RJ's entire posture shifts.

He straightens, runs a hand through his hair, and puts on what I recognize as his public smile.

It's not something I've seen him have to use very much since the band started getting airplay, but it's becoming more and more a regular occurrence.

"Hey there," he says warmly as they approach, and I automatically step to the side.

I feel like the third wheel on my own date with my boyfriend.

"Can we get a picture? Please?" one of them asks, already pulling out her phone.

"Of course," RJ says, and I watch as he poses with them, his arm around their shoulders, his smile crooked and sexy as hell.

More people start to notice. A couple of college-aged guys who want to talk about his music. Each time, I find myself taking another step back, becoming more invisible.

I should be proud. I am proud. Watching people light up when they see him, hearing them talk about how much Grey Skies means to them – it's incredible. But there's this growing knot in my stomach that I can't shake.

"Sorry about that," RJ says when we finally make it to the first exhibit without the crowd following us. He slips his hand into mine. "I didn't expect..."

"It's fine," I say, and I mean it. Mostly. "It's amazing, actually. Seeing how much people love you."

He squeezes my hand. "You okay with it?"

"Of course." The lie comes easily. It's weird to me, even though I grew up with it, with my dad and Black Friday. This is my boyfriend. This is some of the only time we get together before he has to go back on tour for the European leg.

We make our way through the zoo. We stop at the elephants and I laugh as they spray each other with the water from the pond they're in. "I've never seen them do that before, wouldn't it be fun?"

He has a bottle of water in his free hand, the other arm is slung over my shoulder holding me tight. "I can take the cap off and pour a little over your head. Would that work?" He laughs.

"You do that, and I'll cut off your playing fingers," I tease.

We move on to the next enclosure, which is inside and air conditioned. "The penguins have always been my favorite, especially since one was named after you."

He rolls his eyes. "I can't believe they named them after my whole family. I need to take a picture of Hannah to send to my mom. She has one framed, like it's one of her kids."

I watch as he pulls his phone out and takes a picture of the penguin with his mom's name around it's flipper, and send it to her.

He looks over. "Now I'll be the favorite for a little bit."

I'm about to say something when we're interrupted by some more teenage girls, who squeal and ask if he's RJ.

There are more photos, more autographs, more conversations with strangers who feel like they know him.

The longer I stand there, I become part of the background, the girl standing awkwardly to the side while her boyfriend gets swarmed by fans.

By the time we reach the African savanna exhibit, I'm feeling kind of like I shouldn't even be here. Especially with the way we have to keep it moving, in order for people to not trap us.

"Look at those giraffes," RJ says, pointing toward the tall enclosure where several giraffes are gracefully moving around. "Remember when we came here for your eighteenth birthday and you said you wanted to be reincarnated as a giraffe?"

I laugh despite how annoyed I am. "I said they looked peaceful. And elegant"

"You are elegant," he says, pulling me closer to the fence.

"Especially this graceful neck." He pushes me against the fence, then comes up behind me, and stands with his back to my front.

Those fingers that are so famous for playing his guitar push my hair aside, and his lips find the bare skin of my neck for a kiss.

But then someone else recognizes him, and the moment is broken.

By lunch, I'm emotionally exhausted. We find a quiet table at the zoo's café, and I pick at my sandwich while watching RJ scroll through his phone, groaning when he has an email he has to reply to.

"Earth to Montgomery," he says, reaching across the table to touch my hand. "You've been quiet. Sorry I had to mess with email today, but it's about the European leg of the tour coming up."

"It's okay, I'm just tired," I say.

He studies my face, and I can see him trying to read my mood. Instead of pushing, he reaches for his drink and carefully unwraps the paper from his straw. My heart does a little flip because I know what's coming.

With practiced fingers, he twists the paper into a small ring. He reaches for my left hand and slides it onto my ring finger, just like he did on my sixteenth birthday, and every chance he's gotten to since then.

"There," he says, grinning. "Perfect fit."

"RJ..."

"I'm going to marry you someday, Montgomery," he says, just like he did all those years ago. But this time, instead of the flutter of excitement I used to feel, there's a heaviness in my chest.

This time, I'm not so sure.

But I don't say that out loud. Instead, I smile and let him think everything is fine, because maybe it will be. Maybe we just need more time like this.

The drive back to my apartment is quieter than the morning drive. RJ's hand rests on my thigh, his thumb drawing absent circles against my jeans, and I find myself watching him more than the scenery of Nashville melting into Franklin.

There's something different about him. Something I can't quite put my finger on. He seems more on edge, more restless. His fingers drum against the steering wheel at red lights, and he keeps checking his phone when he thinks I'm not looking.

"You okay?" I ask as we pull into my apartment complex.

"Yeah, just thinking about some stuff," he says, parking the truck. "Today was good though, right? I mean, aside from all the interruptions."

"It was good," I agree, because it was. Mostly.

He walks me to my door, his arm around my waist, and when we stop outside my apartment, I can feel the expectation in the air. The assumption that he'll come inside, like he always does.

But I'm not ready for that. Not after everything that's been happening between us. Not when I still feel like I don't know where we stand. Don't know where I actually want to stand. All I know is we had a good time today and I'm comfortable to leave it with that.

"I had a really good time today," I say, turning to face him.

"Me too." He leans down to kiss me, and it's soft and sweet and perfect. "So... movie night?"

The hopeful look in his eyes makes my heart ache, but I shake my head. "I think I need some space tonight, RJ. To process everything."

His face falls, and frustration pinches his eyebrows together. "Process what?"

"Just us. Today. The past few weeks. It's been a lot.." I reach up to touch his cheek. "I'm not saying anything's wrong. I just need some time to think."

He's quiet for a long moment, studying my face. Then he nods, even though I can see the disappointment in his eyes.

"Okay," he says. "If that's what you need."

But he doesn't step away. Instead, he cups my face in his hands and kisses me again, and this time it's different. Desperate. Hungry. Like he's trying to convince me to change my mind without using words.

And God help me, it almost works.

I kiss him back, my hands fisting in his shirt, pulling him closer.

He backs me against my door, his body pressing against mine, and I can feel every hard line of him.

His hands slide down to my hips, pulling me tighter against him, and I can't help the soft moan that escapes.

Reaching down, he hooks his hands around my thighs and lifts me up against the door.

"Montgomery," he breathes against my lips, and I can hear everything he's not saying in the way he says my name.

His mouth moves to my neck, finding that spot that makes my knees weak, and I arch into him. One of his hands tangles in my hair while the other slides under my shirt, his palm hot against my skin. My nipple tightens against the skin of his palm.

In between my legs, he's notched his hard cock, and we're thrusting at one another.

His fingers tighten around my breast, and I ride the ridge of his length.

The orgasm takes me by surprise, as does his.

He pulls away from my mouth, and presses his lips into my shoulder, moaning deep as he grunts.

I can't believe we just came from dry humping in front of my door.

But it's not changed anything, not for me.

"Please," he whispers, and I'm not sure if he's asking me to let him inside or just asking me not to pull away.

But I can't do this. Not when everything feels so uncertain.

"RJ," I say, gently pushing against his chest. "I can't."

He pulls back, his breathing ragged, his eyes dark with want and frustration with what's going on between us. For a moment, neither of us moves. Then he steps back, running both hands through his hair.

"Okay," he says, his voice rough. "Okay."

He kisses me one more time, soft and lingering, like he's memorizing the taste of me.

"I love you," he says against my lips.

"I love you too," I whisper back, and I mean it. Even with all the uncertainty, even with all my doubts, I love him.

I watch him walk back to his truck, fighting every instinct that tells me to call him back. When he drives away, I lean against my door and close my eyes, still tasting him on my lips and wondering if I just made a terrible mistake.