Page 16 of When Stars Fall

“Come on, Ellie,” he says.

Longing is written on his face, and I cave. When I rise, I stagger, and Wyatt lifts me out of the booth as though I weigh nothing to carry me to the dance floor. He sets me in front of him and then ever so slowly draws me into his arms.

While we dance, he holds me close and sings along at a level only I can hear. The lyrics to “If I Ain’t Got You” flow out of him, smooth and deep. We sway to the music with his lips next to my ear. I relax into him, letting him lead me around the dance floor, wishing the song would go on forever. He’s a good singer. The Daisy Network days benefitted him in at least one way.

When the song comes to an end, Wyatt brings the back of my hand to his mouth and places a soft kiss across my knuckles. My body vibrates, anticipates. The tension that’s sprung up between us is one I recognize.

There’s an unasked question in the depths of his eyes. My answer now, and probably for the rest of my life, is yes. I can’t imagine saying no.

I want this. I want him, and I close the little space between us in a silent plea for something, anything. He tugs me toward him and buries a hand in my hair. He gives me a last desperate glance before his lips rush to meet mine. I clutch onto him, rising on my toes to deepen the kiss. Throwing my arms around his neck, I press myself closer, and I lose any sense of where we are as heat rises through my body. If I could stay in his arms, I’d never want the night to end.

“Come home with me,” I say between kisses.

“Ellie.” There’s so much need in his voice that my knees almost collapse. He shifts to create space between us, and I’m sure he’ll tell me no. Blanca is here, and one kiss between costars on the dance floor means nothing. But I want so much more than a kiss.Say yes to me, Wyatt.

“I can’t.” He kisses me again as though he can’t help himself.

“We’re young. This doesn’t have to be some great love affair.” He’s cracked a window between us, and I’m not letting the opportunity pass. Whatever Isaac gave me hours ago is wearing off. I’m buzzed enough to ignore Anna’s rudeness, but not so out of my head I don’t understand what I’m suggesting.

“I can’t make any promises.” He dips into my neck and his lips trail kisses along the sensitive skin.

“Don’t need them.” I dig my fingers into his biceps. My knees won’t hold me up, and my blood has rushed to my core in anticipation.

“I wish you weren’t high right now. What if you don’t remember?” he murmurs.

“Doesn’t that mean we get to do it again?” I run my hands through his dark hair.

He groans and returns to my lips, kissing me deeply, cradling my face in his hands. This time when we break apart, he sweeps me up off the dance floor and carries me through the crowd toward the side door.

“Why’d we come in the front earlier?” I loop my arms around his neck and tuck my cheek under his chin, away from prying eyes.

“Blanca wanted to be seen with me,” he says.

“You do that sort of thing?” I try to covertly scan the crowd for anyone watching us. There are a few curious stares but nothing out of the ordinary.

“Trade favors? Sure, why not? Her agent called my agent. None of it matters.” He strides up to the exit with determination. “It’s a game, Ellie. You’ll see.”

At the door, he sets me down and takes his phone out of his pocket as we head outside.

“What about your sister or Isaac or . . . Blanca?” Her name tastes sour on my tongue.

“You don’t need to worry about them.” Wyatt tugs me toward him, and his lips find mine again. He backs me against a pillar, running his hands along my sides. “I’ve thought about doing this with you for real a thousand times.”

Only a thousand? A glance from him across a crowded set was enough to make me think about dark rooms, beds, the brush of his skin against mine. Every place he touches lights up, glows, explodes with sensation. His hands and lips offer a special kind of magic.

“One other thing.” He kisses me again, and then he gives me a hard stare. “No more accepting shit from Isaac, okay?”

“It was one drink. Made me feel good.” I try to reach for him, but he maintains space between us.

“I’m serious. If you want to try something, ask me, and I’ll get it for you. But Isaac takes stupid risks and mixes shit he shouldn’t. He thinks he’s invincible.”

“You and Isaac are friends.” They both pop pills, drink alcohol, and manage drug combinations like they’re working a second job.

“He’s my best friend. There isn’t a friend in the world like Isaac. That’s the truth. He’s my brother—his whole family is more mine than my own.” He pauses and runs a hand through his hair in frustration. “Doesn’t mean what I said isn’t true too.”

“Are you on something right now?” He seems together. Coherent. His eyes are clear, focused.

“I’m always on something. Sometimes I hide it better than others. If we’re doing this,” he takes a breath and then continues, “whatever this becomes, my habits aren’t up for discussion.”

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