Page 79 of Uncharted Desires
How did he always read her mind?
His eyes sparkled mischievously, although he was probably serious.
As they walked toward baggage claim, cameras clicked and reporters swarmed them. There were video cameras of all sizes, including reputable news outlets like ABC, NBC, and TMZ, along with amateur bloggers looking to get the inside scoop.
“Weston, can you comment on your manager siphoning funds?”
“Weston, what more can you tell us about the island?”
He was surrounded by a flurry of movement. He answered each question with charm and poise. She was in awe of his ability. Grabbing her and her mother’s bags, she slinked away unnoticed.
“That poor man, are you going to help him?” her mom asked.
Kat knit her brow, glaring at her mother. “Why would I help him?”
Her mother gave her a look that spoke volumes.
Kat shook her head, rolling their luggage to the escalator leading to departures. “You don’t understand, Mom.”
She passed her mom her bag and turned back to get one last look at West, but she didn’t see him. Instead, all she saw was Tommy talking to the press.
A firm grasp wrapped around her wrist and pulled her back just as she was about to step on the first stair. “You weren’t going to say goodbye?” West asked, his eyes questioning, hurt burning in them.
She sighed. “I thought it would be easier this way.”
His eyes narrowed. His hair was pushed away from his face in an unruly mess, making him look even more endearing than usual. She wanted to reach out and push it back, feel the softness of it one last time, but she resisted. “Easier for who?” he asked.
Fair point.
“I told you; I just need time. I need to figure me out, figure us out. There has to be a world where I’m not always your backing singer.”
“You’re right, you deserve to be front and center.”
“I don’t want to be front and center, I just need something that fulfills me.” West’s eyes widened.
Before West had the chance to respond, the media had flocked around him again, questions coming from all directions. One, who seemed to have noticed their heated conversation, asked, “Who’s this, Weston?”
Suddenly all eyes were on them, and West grabbed her wrist, not allowing her to leave. “This is Katrina Brooks, my former pianist and backing singer, and the woman I am in love with.”
Kat’s mouth fell open at his public declaration. Hadn’t that been what she was asking for? She didn’t actually think he’d do it. He’d just told the whole world he was in love with her, and she didn’t know whether to run away or jump into his arms and stay there forever.
“She has a plane to catch, and I have to go; please direct all questions to my PR rep.”
The press swarmed in like bees as West pushed her up the escalator. “Go,” he whispered in her ear. “Go now before I change my mind. Figure out how to make us work and come back to me.”
She looked back as he fielded a question, and for a split second, she almost ran back down the escalator. He loved her, and she loved him. He had just declared it to the entire world, so what was she doing running away?
But something stopped her.
Muscle memory drove her as she and her mom checked in for their flight to Iowa, but inside she wondered if, by walking away, she had just made the worst mistake of her life.
“I’m sorry, dear.” Her mother hugged her, fully aware of the emotions roiling within her, and she felt the dam breaking.
No, no, no, no, not in the middle of airport security.
She gulped in large quantities of air, holding back tears as she trudged through security. Why did airports not have a crying room? Considering how many people said goodbye in these places, they really should. Kat put the idea in the back of her mind to patent later as she and her mom walked toward their gate and her future—whatever it held.
Twenty Two