Page 14 of All My Love

“Love you, sis,” I say, then walk to my car and drive off.

I hold it together until I open my mailbox, pulling out the three pieces stuffed in there, including a postcard. My hands shake, holding it as I take in the green trees and happy type set across the photo, reading,Welcome to Ashford!When I flip it, there’s no stamp and no address because it isn’t needed, but there is a scribbled note.

We really need to talk, Stella.

All my love,

Riggs.

I make it inside the house, the keys in my hand jingling as my hands shake as I turn the key in the lock.

It isn’t until I lock the door behind me that I let myself cry until I can’t breathe.

8 NEW PERSPECTIVE

THEN

RIGGINS

I get the text at three fifteen when she gets home from school. We’ve been on the road for three weeks, and I miss Stella more than I ever thought possible. I always knew she was my person since she moved in next door to me when she was five and I was seven, but being away from her has only proven that more.

And when I get the text telling me she’s home and her mom isn’t hovering around trying to make her life a misery, I always find a quiet place to talk to her.

“Oh, Riggs must be about to call his girl,” my best friend Reed says with a playful tone. I roll my eyes, flip him the finger, and grab a drink and my phone.

“Tell her we say hi, yeah?” Beckett calls, always protective of my little star like a big brother.

I should think of her in the same big brother protective way, but lately, all I can think about is if she would ever want more. Her mother wants her to marry some rich douche that will help raise her social standing, and would probably commit quite a few felonies if she found out Stella chose me, but what if?

I don’t let myself think too long on it, instead pulling the curtain separating the main area of the bus from the bunks and hitting her name on my cell.

“Riggs?” she says.

It’s always Riggs for Stella. Hearing her say it is like coming home, both familiar and sweet, and like hearing all of the best things in the world at once.

“Hey, little star. How’s home?” I sigh with the words, and everything seems to fall away as she fills me in on all of the Ashford drama going on that I’ve missed out on.

“Oh, and Mom is setting me up on a date,” she says a few minutes in.

A wave of red anger rolls through me, the same variety that always comes when Stella talks to me about guys. She hasn’t dated much, just a few here and there, and being her best friend other than her sister, I usually hear all about whatever asshole she's crushing on who definitely isn’t good enough for her.

Except, I’m the biggest asshole who isn’t good enough for her.

Not enough money, not enough prestige. The son of a dead mother and a drunk. I have nothing to offer her.

“God, she’s still on that shit?” I ask.

“Yeah. I don’t know why she won’t just let it go. Evie and I are happy without her meddling. I wish she would just be happy for us. Let us live.”

“Well, you know, she married an Ashford loser, and her life didn’t magically turn her into some famous heiress, so she needs one of you to fulfill that dream for her.” It’s the truth, and everyone in town knows it. Rhonda Hart has always thought she was too good for Ashford.

According to my mom, everyone was shocked when she settled down with Hank, Stella’s father because she was supposedly dating some fancy New York exec who would whisk her away from our little town. But when she started showing right after her shotgun wedding to Hank, it all became clear.

I don’t tell Stella this, but I think the reason her mother is such a bitch to them is because she resents the life she’s in, and she sees it as her daughters’ fault she’s there.

“Which is bullshit because let’s be real, if the money and notoriety is what she wanted, she’d be trying to set me up with you, a literal rockstar on a trajectory to stardom and fame and riches. Instead, she thinks you’re the dregs of society, and I’m doomed to misery for hitching myself to your star.” Well, I guess that’s a good sign, that Stella thinks I’m good enough for her.

“Because even when Atlas Oaks makes it big, I won’t be an old money douche who likes going yachting and wears the collars of his polo popped and wears loafers.”

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