Page 32 of Edge of Heaven

“My younger self was dumb as fuck,” she murmurs. “If I could go back and change things, I would.”

“I wouldn’t,” I say after a moment. “Because those are the things that got me where I am today. On this plane, flying first class, heading to New York to do my second photo shoot ever. On a world tour. About to have a platinum album. If I went back and changed a bunch of shit—I might not be here, in this exact spot.”

With you.

I don’t vocalize that last part, but I know she understands what I’m trying to say.

Our eyes lock, and the intensity that sizzles between us is almost palpable.

Except she belongs to someone else.

And as much as I want her, she has to end things with Callum first.

He’s not a good guy, but I’m not going to be anyone’s side piece.

Slowly, I pull my hand away but change the subject so it doesn’t feel like rejection. Even though it kind of is. Short-term rejection, if nothing else.

I down my champagne and motion to the flight attendant to bring me another. “So what’s going on with your career? Have you been working much?”

She sighs. “Not really. Callum is so fucking needy. He hates when I leave him for any amount of time. He’s always grumpy when I go see Toby. And now he has a new thing—apparently, blowjobs don’t count as cheating.”

I open my mouth but snap it back shut.

Not my circus, not my monkey.

If we’re going to be friends, I have to keep my opinions to myself. Or at least soften them a little.

“Is that okay with you?”

“You know what? I don’t want to talk about Callum.” She shakes her head. “I’m sorry if that’s rude, but I’m not ready to get into the nuances of our relationship.”

That’s an interesting answer.

“Okay,” I reply easily. “You said you had another job lined up too? Didn’t you just get back from L.A.?”

“Yeah, it was for a print ad for a new line of sneakers called Sole Target. They’re actually pretty comfortable. They gave me four pairs, which was nice. I even got a pair for Toby, though he’ll probably outgrow them in six months.”

“Speaking of Toby. He’s what? Eight? Nine now?”

“He just turned nine.”

“Tell me about him. Last time we were together he was still a little kid. He must be all grown up now.” It feels like Toby is a safe topic for us because her face lights up and she smiles fondly.

“He loves hockey and collects Pokémon cards. We also play that silly Pokémon Go game, which is fun because it’s something we can do any time, anywhere we are, even when we’re not together. We trade and stuff, which he thinks is great.”

“I’d play with him if he wants,” I suggest. “I used to play it but haven’t in a couple of years because it feels like I’m a little old for that.”

She grins. “I don’t even understand what I’m doing most of the time, but he loves the fact that I play with him, so it’s all good.”

“You still haven’t gotten custody? Weren’t you talking about that once you graduated from college?”

Her face tightens and she looks down. “My mother is being…cautious, for lack of a better word. It’s not that she doesn’t want to give me custody, but she wants to make sure I’m in a place where I can take care of him properly.

“What does that mean?”

“Well, for example, she has legal custody so she can cover him on her health insurance plan. I don’t even have insurance for myself right now, much less for him. I don’t have a place to live—other than with my mom—and I don’t have a steady income. The truth is, I don’t knowhowI’d take care of him without her. And I hate myself a little for being in this situation.”

I have so many questions, but the look on her face—that’s making her look sad and embarrassed—tells me this isn’t the best time to ask.

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