Page 114 of When the Stars Rise
“You mean more to me than anything in this whole goddamn world.”
That’s what he said. If only it were true.
I almost unlocked the door to let him in. It was so hard not to and I came so close to doing it. I wanted to believe him when he said he could change. I wanted to pretend that this was all a big misunderstanding and that he didn’t lie to me and that he really was planning to give it up and choose me this time.
But then I remembered that we’ve been down this road before, and when given the choice, he didn’t choose me. I’ve learned my lesson the hard way so once again, I let him go.
I slid down against the door, wrapped my arms around myself to hold all the broken pieces together, and I just let him walk away.
That was three days ago, and it hurts.
Everything hurts. My heart. My soul. My bones and muscles and vital organs. It’s like losing your other half and being left with a huge gaping Noah-sized chasm that’s impossible to fill.
So I’m holed up in a sleek, futuristic hotel suite on the Vegas Strip writing a song about it. Filling my soul with music. Channeling my heartache into an acoustic ballad that won’t have a happy ending.
The blackout curtains are drawn to ward off the relentlessly bright Nevada sun and I don’t know why I bothered ordering breakfast from room service when I have zero appetite.
Someone is pounding on the door, but I ignore it and keep strumming my guitar to get the melody right. I just want to be left alone. Why can’t anyone understand that?
“Hayley. Open the door,” Dean yells. “I have a special delivery for you.”
With a sigh, I set my guitar on the white sofa, pad across the room on bare feet, and open the door, but just a crack. I don’t want Dean to see that I’m wearing one of Noah’s hoodies, oversized, sleeves too long and the hem reaching the middle of my thighs. I’ve been sleeping in it every night just to smell his scent.
Why am I still a lovesick fool for that boy?
“If it’s breakfast, I’ve already eaten—”
Dean steps back from the door and my two best friends jump in front of him, throwing their arms in the air and shouting, “Surprise!”
“Oh my god,” I squeal, throwing my arms around both of them.
We’re laughing and hugging, in our own little love huddle, and I’m so happy to see them that I temporarily forget about my broken heart.
“What are you guys doing here?” I ask when they follow me into the suite and Everly makes a beeline to the windows andthrows open the curtains to the terrace, flooding the room with light while Isla lifts the silver lids and frowns at my uneaten breakfast.
“What do you think we’re doing here?” Isla says, popping a grape from the fruit platter into her mouth. She is undeniably gorgeous with long dark hair, aquamarine eyes, and olive skin and today she’s dressed in a silky black mini dress trimmed in lace with thin straps and stars etched into the fabric. An Isla St. Clair original. Her designs are very rock n roll. Edgy and cool.
“We came to cheer up our girl,” Everly says, turning from the windows with a smile. “You can see the fountain show from here.” She looks genuinely thrilled, although I know for a fact that she hates Vegas.
Despite being twins, Everly is Isla’s total opposite with white-blonde hair, golden skin, and big cornflower blue eyes.
“It looks like we came just in time.” Isla waves her hand up and down, gesturing to my outfit. Her eyes narrow in accusation. “What are you wearing?”
I look down like I need a reminder. “A hoodie.” It’s a white hoodie that says: Quiet please, the show is about to begin. Noah was wearing it backstage at the Denver concert which also happened to be the last night we spent together. Not that it matters. It’s just a cozy hoodie and nothing more.
“Mmhmm.” She and Everly exchange a look.
“What?” I ask defensively.
Everly sighs. “The last time you two broke up you wore his T-shirt for like a month.”
“Without washing it,” Isla adds.
“We just don’t want to see you going down that same road again.”
I shrug. “It’s just a hoodie. And I’m not going down that same road again. I’m fine. Really.” I flash a smile to prove it, but they don’t look convinced.
“So Dean said you have the day off,” Everly says, changing the subject. “We planned a fun day but if it’s too much for you we can just hang out in your room…”
