Page 168 of Composed
Cole winks at me as he messily scribbles his autograph on a girl’s arm.
My knees turn to liquid, and I tighten my hold on the trolley to keep my balance.
He’s in his element. Easy grin, booming laughter as he signs autographs and poses for pictures. His eyes, though, are only for me. Even in the chaos his gaze never strays far from mine.
It’s funny, really.
Ten years since I walked away from him, and that man still makes me feel like I’m the only woman in the world—the onlyhumanin his universe.
He says something to the girl at his side, and she looks up at him with stars in her eyes, before he waves his hand in the air and slips out of the crowd.
They start to disperse, excitable chatter and awe-filled laughter echoing down the aisle as they tap away on their phones. No doubt sharing their celebrity encounter on whatever social media kids are using these days.
A grin curls my lips as butterflies come alive in my stomach.
I remember those days from when we were teenagers. Waiting outside venues for hours after shows in the hopes that we'd catch a glimpse of our favourite artists. There was nothing like the feeling of meeting someone whose music changed your life.
Cole being that person for a whole new generation is everything I ever dreamed for him.
Of all the mistakes I’ve made in my life, writing music for Reckless Abandon and helping them find their sound early on will never be one of them.
The mistake was not being at his side while he rose.
Pretty sure I’ll spend the rest of my life regretting that one.
Cole closes the distance between us, weaving our fingers together, and easing the trolley from my grip with his free hand. “Hey, baby.”
I pull in a slow breath and force my mind to the here and now.
“Can’t even go to the supermarket without being bombarded, huh?” I tease, arching a brow.
He grins down at me. “Welcome to the life of dating a rock star, Rixie.”
“Dating, is it?” I hum, my veins fluttering. “I don’t recall agreeing to that.”
“Oh, I’m sorry. Was I supposed to ask?” He rolls the trolley forward and drags me along with him. “I distinctly remember you just claiming me when I was sixteen years old as yours. Figured I’d do the same thing now.”
“I did no such thing.”
“‘There’s only room for one rock star in this relationship’, isn’t that whatyou said?”
“That was a slip of tongue.” I bump his shoulder, before tugging my phone out and checking my shopping list. “Grab four packs of tortilla chips please.”
He grabs the requested items and tosses them into the trolley. I snag sour cream and salsa. There’s something weirdly domestic about shopping with him.
It’s something we haven’t done together in years, and yet we move as one, dipping and weaving as if we do our weekly shop together all the time.
“What are you even making?” he asks when we peruse the fridges.
“Mexican food,” I tell him.
It’s my first ‘family’ dinner tomorrow with all the guys and Theo, and I’m fucking terrified. This is their thing. A tradition they started after I’d gone. I tried to get out of it, but Cole is nothing if not persistent.
Not to mention he tagged Saint in, who after getting me stoned and pouring vodka down my throat during our jam session, had me agreeing before I even realised what I’d said yes to.
“Are you making your fajitas?” Cole asks, eyeing the chicken in my hands.
I arch a brow. “Is Gerard Way still the hottest man in the world?”
