Page 44 of Yearn

Landon

Listen to Heaven

by Niall Horan

Icrashed into him, and he caught me by the shoulders so I didn’t fall on my ass.

My chin jerked up, and I felt my cheeks flush at the full body to body contact. I always seemed to be distracted and running into him somewhere; as if the universe was playing a joke at my expense.

“Sorry,” we both muttered at the same time.

I noticed he removed his hands quickly, like he’d been burned. We stared at each other in the hallway of the hotel, the air stretched with discomfort. I tried not to be greedy with my gaze as I took in his tight jeans, stretched, worn t-shirt, and the expanse of tanned, corded arms with gorgeous ink scrolled over his skin. His jaw held stubble, and his dark hair was mussed, as if tousled by a woman’s fingers. He looked like he’d rolled outof bed, freshly fucked. I wondered if he had. Wondered if Gabby looked the same, then refused to think about it.

“Where’s Gabby?” I asked, needing to break the silence.

“Getting a coffee. The ride sucked. Lots of traffic.”

“Yeah, beach traffic is the worst. We hit an accident on our way here so we sat for a while, not moving.”

He lifted his brow as if mocking my inane conversation and I snapped back to myself. What was I cowering for? Sure, we’d had a physical interaction but no kissing, just words. I’d chosen Max. Adam was with Gabby or whoever else he wanted to play with. The slate was clean. “Congrats on Unison. I think it was a great pick. Seems to suit you.”

“Yeah. The band is good. Did you hear the song Elle’s singing with us? Noah’s getting credit on the lyrics, too.”

I tried to ignore the curling heat in my belly at the thought of the song. Elle had sent me a clip to hear. It was about an unrequited love with all the feels. I imagined Adam’s husky, tender voice matching with the smooth velvet of Elle’s. Noah’s music began with a quiet, bittersweet piano and then built to a crescendo, reminding me of Lady Gaga’s songShallowfrom the movie,A Star is Born. It was one of my favorites and I’d watched it over and over. Listening to the song made me feel vulnerable, as if a secret had been spilled.

Our secret.

Of course, that was ridiculous. It was just a song. It meant nothing and wasn’t about us. There wasn’t even anus.

I forced a casual smile. “It was beautiful. I’m excited for her. For both of you.”

Another brow raise. “Really? You’ve changed your stance on me being a sellout now?”

Irritation rose. He could never let me be nice and leave it alone. “No, I still think you’re a sellout, but I can be happy for your success. I’m not a complete bitch like you think.”

His chuckle scraped across my ears, rough and low. “Thanks for the approval, from one sellout to another.”

I cocked my head at the barb. “I’ve never sold out.”

“You’re the queen of sellouts, princess. I told you that before.”

I squirmed, wanting to punch him. “I happen to love Max. Moving in was a good decision for us.”

“Not talking about Max.”

I glared. “Then what?”

“Reality television. Influencing. Modeling. You’re chasing fame, which is fine.” He shrugged. “It’s your life. But I always thought your real passion was writing. Didn’t you write some sort of column at a magazine before you graduated?”

My jaw dropped. “Writing a few articles doesn’t make me a writer. Why would you think that’s what I really wanted?”

“Max said you journal regularly. You wrote something on Wattpad for a while and got a bunch of positive comments. Plus, your social media captions are pretty bad ass. I think you’ve been pushing to be in front of the camera, but maybe you’re meant to be behind it. Writing the content.”

Shock flooded through me. How did he know so much about my private life? Sure, Max teased me about my journals, which was my bedtime habit, but he why had he told Adam? I had enjoyed my stint at the magazine but I was just playing around to get some extra resume credit. Wattpad was a silly hobby that I’d given up once I doubled my effort to break out with my social media and modeling.

But why did Adam’s attention and compliment give me so much pleasure? As if he was the only one who scratched beneath my surface and lingered, looking for clues of who I really am. Max never asked about it. Neither did my friends. Everyone took what I said at face value.

Except Adam.

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