Page 64 of Resurrection
"Yeah?" He looked hopeful. "You’d go with me?"
"In a heartbeat," I said, my voice sure. "If you want me to."
"Always."
I leaned my head on his shoulder, content and more than a little scared. I had Tyler. Tyler had me. But there was Adri, and there was…well, whatever was going on with Adri. I needed to know, needed to understand why things were weird between them.
"Ty," I began, trying to keep my voice light. "Can I ask you something?"
"Shoot," he said, his thumb stroking my knuckles.
"What happened with you and Adri?" I felt him tense beside me, knew I was hitting a nerve. "I mean, you guys were so close during your freshman year. Did you fight?"
He didn’t answer right away. I held my breath, hoping he’d tell me. But he only shrugged, too casual. "He’s just being Adri. You know how he gets."
"So nothing happened?" I pressed gently.
"Not really," he said, his voice changing the subject. "Besides, I’m more interested in what’s happening with us."
"Nice dodge," I teased but let it drop.
"Maybe," he admitted, his grin returning.
We stayed there, making plans and dreaming dreams, the desert night wrapping us in its warm, starry embrace. It felt like anything was possible, like we were on the brink of something huge and amazing. I held on to that feeling, praying it wouldn’t slip away.
I could tell Ty didn't know a lot about kissing or making out. Neither did I. And it was exciting—trying to figure it all out together. Exciting and scary.
Two weeks after he’d confessed he wanted to be more than friends, Tyler and I were sitting on the same bench in the park. It was Saturday night, and he was happy because his gig last weekend went well. He’d met some promoter who worked with various venues across Nevada. Now he and the boys planned to introduce a couple more original songs into their set. The one they played in Palm Springs did well. People were dancing and clapping and cheering, and not all of them were classmates and parents. Which meant a lot.
It felt like things were happening, maybe even too fast.
"You’re sure you’re down with being my girlfriend when I’m famous?" Ty asked. It sounded like a joke, but his face was serious.
"Yes. Why wouldn’t I be?"
"You’re not the jealous type, are you?"
"Do you plan on cheating on me with your groupies?"
"No." He threw his arm over my shoulder to draw me closer. "I’d never do that. I value my life."
"Haha. Very funny."
"I’ll never forget how you took down Lachlan Pratt at the beginning of our freshman year. I think that’s when I fell in love with you."
The word "love" slipped from his lips so effortlessly that it startled me. We’d never really expressed our feelings like this before. I didn’t think we needed to, but hearing him say it was on another level.
"Lachlan is a bully," I replied because I was too confused to latch onto the idea that Ty was talking about his emotions. It was all new and strange, and I guess my mind did the exact opposite of what I wanted.
Ty took out his pocketknife, flicked it open, and dug it into the wood like he was really carving our future.
I watched him quietly as he scraped our initials onto the bench.
"Still wanna go?" he asked like he was making sure.
"Yeah."
"And don’t forget you promised not to kill me because of my fans."
