Page 81 of When the Stars Rise
“I didn’t say I don’t like music. But for the most part, I can take it or leave it.”
“Wow. I’m seriously rethinking our entire relationship.”
“Good thing it’s strictly professional, then.”
“Very good thing. It would never have worked out.” I sigh like he’s the one who got away when it has never been anythingbutstrictly professional.
It’s weird how you can spend so much time around a physically attractive guy yet not be the least bit attracted to him. Thank God, though. That would have been awkward.
But since music is my life, I scroll through my phone, choose a classic rock playlist, and hit play. The first song is “Born to Run.” Sometimes, I fantasize about Noah and I running away together and leaving the world behind us.
I don’t even realize I’m belting out the lyrics and jamming to the Boss until the song ends. “I like that song,” Chris says. “Especially when you sing it.”
I flash him a smile. “Maybe there’s hope for us yet.”
He laughs and shakes his head.
My gaze moves to the windshield.
The rain is coming down harder and heavier, and that familiar feeling of dread sinks its claws into me.
I don’t want to dwell or worry, so I say a silent prayer that Noah will be safe, and then I do my best to breathe in and out and just let it go.
Which makes me stop and think.
How funny that I worry about Noah so much… when love is the greatest risk of them all.
Yet, here I am, jumping right back into it. Eyes wide open and heart in hand, offering it up like a gift.
Take it. It’s yours.
CHAPTER THIRTY
Noah
“You don’t knowwhat you’re talking about, man. That barbecue was the bomb,” Aiden says when we stop to take photos in front of yet another fountain.
This one is probably my favorite—bronze statues of kids at play, skipping through the water.
We’re in Kansas City. Home to many fountains, the Chiefs, and decent barbecue.
“You’re from California.” I zoom in on a statue of a boy doing a handstand and then a ballerina girl. Reminds me of us—me and Hales. “I was born and raised in Texas.”
Need I say more? Aiden might know tacos, but he doesn’t know shit about barbecue.
“What does that have to do with anything?”
“The barbecue was good, not saying it wasn’t, but Texas barbecue reigns supreme.” Everyone knows that. It’s a fact, and you won’t change my mind.
“Speaking of Texas, Cowboy Brody’s coming tomorrow, right?” Liam asks.
“Coming to do some ass whooping,” Aiden says in the worst Texas drawl ever. “You think there’ll be another fight?” He rubs his hands together, excited by the prospect.
I fucking hope not. “Nah. It’s all good now.”
Liam gives me a skeptical look as we cross the park. Can’t blame him. I’m not a hundred percent certain myself.
My dad’s a fighter. Always has been. The last time we were all together—my dad and Shiloh, Jude, my mom, and Dean—it was a fucking fiasco.
