Page 56 of For One Night Only

My heart swells, and I hurry to tell her my plan before she can change her mind. “There’s this company playing outdoor movies down at the pier, and I know the press have been hanging out because Lola Martinez was spotted a couple of weeks ago. A bunchof food trucks have signed on too, so there’s anything you could possibly want.” And then I bring it on home. “They’re showing10 Things I Hate About Youtonight.”

She laughs happily, placing a hand on my arm. That tiny touch makes me grin like a fool right back at her. “Oh my god, what? That’s my favorite movie!”

The surprise in her eyes is so funny I want to laugh. Our lives were so intertwined that her details became mine, that everything she loved was imprinted into my memory. And I remember everything.

I remember everything almost embarrassingly well. My neck warms. “How could I forget?”

Valerie beams. “Okay, you got me. I’m in.”

Her face lights up so brightly it almost brings me to my knees. Every time she smiles it hits me, how lucky I am to be in her orbit. But it’s never just been an orbit. We collide, again and again, like two stars in an explosion of light and color. I used to be so afraid of the damage in our wake.

The only thing at risk this time is my heart.

After all these years apart, the connection between us is undeniable. Maybe she’s not a star at all. Maybe she’s my gravity—the unstoppable force holding down my universe.

It doesn’t have to be romantic if she doesn’t want it to be, but I’ll be damned if anything stops me from making this night perfect. I can give her that.

We’re both dressed comfortably enough for a night out, so I buy tickets on my phone while Valerie orders a car. LA traffic is always ridiculous, especially on a Saturday night, so we talk about everything and nothing on the trip. I tell her about teaching choir kids, including one particularly awkward moment when the dad of two of my students recognized me in the middle of a booster meeting and asked me to sign a dollar bill, and she tells me about life in theindustry for the past six years. Before she started working onEpic Theme Song, she recorded a solo EP and opened for Holly Harper on her tour.

“I wish I could say I’ve heard the EP, but I haven’t,” I admit.

Valerie, to her credit, doesn’t look upset, just curious. “Why’s that?”

“Carrie said it was good, but I never could bring myself to listen to your solo music. It was almost like if I didn’t listen to it, I could pretend things hadn’t fallen apart.”

“And…” she trails off, fiddling with a bracelet. “Why would you want to do that?”

Because it hurt? Because I missed you?I shake my head. “Because every day, I wondered what would have happened if I’d stayed.”

Her lips twist. “Well, you’re here now.” She reaches across the seat to squeeze my hand, and my heart skips a beat. I can’t tell if it’s a friendly gesture or something more. “And besides, the EP was a flop. Didn’t have the same magic as our Glitter Bats stuff.”

I think about Valerie at twenty-one, on her own for the first time without the Glitter Bats and trying to go solo. Even when she doesn’t have her safety net around her, she always shines. “I’m sure you were great.”

“Thank you,” she says, flushing. “Oh look!” She points out the window, leaving my hand to sit on the seat, burning from her touch. But I lean forward and smile when I see what she’s gesturing at.

It’s a billboard advertising our concert. They’re using an old album image fromBittersweet, since we haven’t done any official new photos yet—that’s still a couple weeks out. Before that, though, we have tickets to the premiere of Jane’s newest animated series, which means coming up with red-carpetlooks. Fortunately, Keeley knows a stylist willing to drop everything and help us, because I definitely need help after all this time.

The last thing I expected this summer was to walk a red carpet, but I guess we’re doing this all the way. Billboards and all.

“It looks good,” I say, because what else do you say when there’s a sign above the road with your face on it?

Valerie laughs as the car moves forward, and we both settle back into our seats. “People will be disappointed when we don’t look like kids anymore.” She gestures at her face, and I take a moment to really look. It’s not like she’s gottenold—twenty-seven is plenty young, even by the industry’s standards—but her cheeks are less round, and there are a couple of fine lines under her eyes. She looks every bit her age, and it stops my heart more than ever.

“You look better,” I say, unable to stop staring at the woman next to me. I don’t know how it’s possible, but Val’s gotten prettier every day we’ve been apart. Now, it’s hard to look away.

She catches me staring, and flushes. “I’ll say, Mr. ‘I Work Out but Not at a Gym So It Looks Even More Impressive.’ ”

My skin tingles at her appraising gaze. “What?”

“The first time I saw you in six years, you were shirtless looking like you just got off a mountain.”

I gape, trying to make sense of this admission that she’d been checking me out that day too. “I did just get off a mountain. I was hiking.”

“Like holy fuck, Caleb,” she swallows, like maybe she’s serious. “That was…a lot to take in. You were like a walking thirst trap.”

I laugh, because what is going on? “I’m sorry?”

“Don’t be,” she says, andthere. It’s just a hint, but her tone is suggestive.

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