Page 148 of Composed
She peeks at me from the corner of her eye. “I think I do.”
She releases my hand and pushes the key into the lock. I hold my breath when she twists it. The door swings open with a gentle push. She steps inside, flicking a light on.
It flickers to life, casting a soft, orange glow over the black room.
A smile tugs at my lips.
I'm not remotely surprising that her space is black. She always did prefer the darkness.
I slips past her, only to freeze as I take in the left wall.
Frames cover every inch of it. Posters, CD’s covers, lyric prints, tour merchandise. Every moment of Reckless Abandon up until this point lives on her wall. I blink. Again and again. But the image doesn’t change.
The warm air thickens. “What is this?”
“Your wall.” Her voice is soft, almost breathless, as it wraps around me. “You probably think I’m a bit of a creeper right now. But, I figured you should see it, before we’re done, you know.”
How the fuck am I ever gonna done be with you?
I turn to face her, but my gaze catches on the right wall and my universe tilts.
Our whole collaborative relationship is etched in white over the black paint. Music notes, lyrics, everything we ever created together stares back at me.
My heart thuds.
Hendrix steps up beside me, her arm grazing mine.
I don’t look away from the wall. I don’t know that I can.
When she brought the cardboard boxes, I assumed she’d tucked me away for years, hidden me in the back of a wardrobe because she didn’t know how to let go. Not that she held on for dear life.
“I—” My voice cracks.
I hear her soft exhale.
“I’ve loved Reckless Abandon since I was fifteen years old.” Her pinkie finger brushes mine. A muscle in my hand jumps. I feel her watching me as I trace everything. “Did you honestly think I wouldn’t have you on my walls?”
I swallow. “This is…”
She huffs a dry laugh.
“It’s a bit much, I know. I just…” She clears her throat. “I didn’t want you to think that I don’t still care. About the band, and the music. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t know if I was ever planning to show you this, but you’re here now, and I don’t want you to leave without knowing.”
“Knowing what?” I breathe.
“That I dreamed for you.”
I tilt my head and our eyes collide.
“I never stopped dreaming for you, Rock Star.” Gold glimmers, wet and misty, as she stares up at me. “I’ve followed every step of your career. I’ve been to more concerts than I can count, bought more merch than I know what to do with.”
Choked laughter bubbles up my throat. “Are you telling me you’re my biggest fan, Rixie Moore?”
“I wouldn’t go that far.” The corner of her mouth flickers. “There’s this girl on the internet, she travels all over the world for you. Could never be me. Never did find the courage to get over my fear of heights and step on a plane—”
Her breath catches when I sweep a strand of hair behind her ear.
My thumb brushes her cheek.
