Page 39 of Return To You

She hated it then, so I’m guessing that’s something that hasn’t changed.

I watch as she takes me in, pain, hate, and lust shining in those beautiful dark green orbs of hers.

“Rose?” the dark-haired woman says, snapping Rose out of her head. I don’t move or attempt to speak, knowing what she’s about to say, but I let her.

She needs to think she has the upper hand.

“Natalie, can you please take this customer?” she rasps, and I smirk; I can’t help it.

I saw this coming from a mile away.

“I’m not going to disappear just because you’ve asked someone else to serve me, Petal; we need to talk,” I rasp, her nickname slipping out, but a part of me doesn’t seem to care.

Sheismy Petal, and she always will be. I have to live with that, because I don’t believe it will ever change.

I watch as she flinches, quickly turning from me, probably hoping I don’t notice the tears building. I grit my teeth.

I want to go to her, to fucking hold her and tell her how much I missed her, but I just, fuck….

That photo was so goddamn heartbreaking, and the feeling that consumed me seeing it—it scared the shit outta me. I’m man enough to admit it, my music proving it anyway without me opening my mouth.

The woman, Natalie, nods and tries to be professional, giving me a fake smile, but the hate in her eyes is real. I try not to smile, knowing Rose has actually made a friend who’s willing to stand up for her, her words confirming it.

“Just because you’re a rock star doesn’t mean I like you. I’m team Rose all day, every day,” she states firmly, giving me a sarcastic smile.

I grin and reply, “Well, I’ll just have to win you over because I’m not going anywhere until Rose and I talk, something we should have done a few years back.”

I see Rose go still, and my grin widens as Natalie narrows her eyes and pushes me toward the other side of the diner. I reluctantly follow and take a seat in the first available booth, but before I can order a coffee, a squeal hits my ears, and I wince as some blonde bimbo with tits that have to be fake rushes over, “Oh my God, I knew I saw you come in here. You’re Noah Scott, the lead singer and songwriter for The Delinquents.”

Her voice goes through me, and Natalie even attempts to cover her ears.

The woman stops right before the table I’m sitting at and shoves Natalie out of the way, making her gasp in surprise, and I silently groan.

She’s one ofthosefans.

“Can I hug you?” she squeals as I look over to Rose to see her heading to the hole in the wall with plates in her hands. I noticeher flinch, and I grit my teeth, hating she reacted that way, but a small part, the fucktard part, kind of likes it.

I smile at the woman, ignoring how her tits are nearly popping outta her tank top, while Natalie steps forward, her face red.

I know a catfight is about to break out because this woman is clearly a really good friend of my….

Ah, fuck it, yeah, mine, she’s my girl.

Fuck me….

Shaking my head, I lift my left hand, showing her Rose’s name on my ring finger. Natalie gasps as the woman’s face falls, and she whines, “Damn, I thought they were just rumors….” She shakes her head and asks, “Can I have an autograph? I have to tell you your song “My Petal” is my favorite….”

I give her another professional smile, grab the pen and paper from her, and state, “Thanks, and no, they are not rumors. Actually, I wrote “My Petal” for my girl when I was fifteen; we’d been together for a year at the time.”

Her body deflates, and I rub my hand over my mouth to hide my smile while Natalie just grins. The woman takes her pen and paper, sulking, then turns but stops and looks over her shoulder, asking, "Can I give you my number, you know, just in case you and your wife don’t work out? I mean, you're nearly twenty-one. Not many marry that young and last….”

I smirk when I see Natalie tense, and I state, “I’ve been in love with my girl since I was fourteen. She’s the only girl I’ve ever been with despite what the tabloids are trying to say, so no you can’t have my number.” Her shoulders deflate, and she walks away. I look at Natalie. “Can I have coffee, please, and keep them coming? I have a feeling Rose won’t come over to me while I’m here.”

She clears her throat and nods, then rasps, “If you love her that much, why did you leave without speaking to her? I uh, Imean, I saw your finger, the letter R on your forearm with the roses, and then there’s the music, and somehow, I doubt that’s the first time you’ve got rid of a woman’s attention that way, and then your confession….”

I sigh and tilt my head toward Rose, only to growl when some dark-haired dick side hugs her before going through the double doors.

“There’s a lot of history. I was hurt and ran instead of confronting her. Now I’m hearing shit, and my head is all over the place. We need to talk,” I admit.

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