Page 48 of Aria

"I'm honestly getting mad now," I huffed. "I know I should have told him about the article, but nothing happened with Noah. He should know that. It’s not fair to ignore me on my birthday." The tears threatened to reemerge, so I chugged my drink to distract myself.

"He's being a total man-child. Forget about him and enjoy yourself."

“Hey, birthday girl.” Noah appeared in the crowd, a smile lighting up his face. “Long time, no see."

I perked up when I spotted him. Noah had cleaned up nicely in a pair of jeans that probably cost more than my rent and a navy-blue button down over a black band tee. When he leaned in to hug me, his Usher cologne tickled my nose. "You smell good," I stated softly.

"Uh, thanks," he chuckled as he pulled back, shooting me a curious glance. "It sure beats the smell of Dad Life from thirty minutes ago. Sam thought it would be hilarious to make me a spaghetti hat.So, tonight we are thankful for hot showers and Usher. Also, that's why I'm late.”

A grin spread wide despite my sour mood. Noah had a sneaky way of doing that, no matter how miserable I might feel. “Cheers to that,” I said, holding up my empty glass. “Oh, um… any word from Devon?” I was almost too scared to hear the answer.

Noah looked confused. “He’s not here?”

“Nope. And zero contact since his text this afternoon.”

Noah pulled out his phone to call Devon, but the moment it started to ring, Devon entered the bar.

“Wait, he’s here. I see him.” My eyes rounded. Butterflies fluttered in my belly as I braced myself for the potential confrontation.

“Hey.”

“Hi,” I replied.

“Can we talk?” Devon slipped his hands into his pockets as he approached our group, his gaze fixed on me.

“Of course.”

My gaze darted to Noah for just a moment as I followed my boyfriend out of the bar. Noah offered the faintest smile in reply.

“Devon, what’s going on? You’ve been dodging my calls and ignoring me all day. On mybirthday. It… hurts.” Tears rimmed my eyes despite my efforts to hold them back.

He pulled out a pack of cigarettes, even though he wasn’t a smoker. “I care about you. A whole fucking lot. And I get that we’re going to be in the public eye—there’s no escaping that.”

I frowned. “You can’t seriously be upset about that article,” I insisted. “It’s a dramatic fabrication. You know that. You knowme.”

“Do I?”

The insinuation caught me off guard. “What?”

“Do I really know you?” Devon repeated. “We’ve only been dating a few months and I feel like you spend more time with my guitarist than me. I feel like I’m in a competition with Noah… and it’s starting to piss me off. Yeah, the tabloids are bullshit. But it also opened my eyes to what’s been going on between you two.”

My heart stuttered, taken aback by the accusation. “Devon, there’s nothing going on. Noah and I are friends. Good friends. I adore his son… that’s all.” Panic swept over me. Was he about to end things?Was this it?

He blew out a puff of smoke, his eyes focused away from me. “Do you love me?”

My breath caught in my throat.

Love.

We had never used that word before. My only experience with “love” had been dependence, isolation, abuse, and control. Devon was none of those things. He celebrated my independence. He was nurturing and kind. He appreciated me for everything I was—flaws and all.

Devon took care of me.

Maybe I did love him…

“I think so,” I whispered, stepping forward and closing the gap between us. I took his face between my hands and forced him to look at me. “I mean… I do. I love you, Devon.”

His features softened, posture relaxing. He tossed his cigarette to the cement and wrapped his arms around me in a fierce hold. “Shit, Chelsie, I’m sorry. I’m fucking sorry, babe.”

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