Page 142 of Harrison's Wedding

We pose for some photos, and it feels as though we sign a thousand autographs, though none of us sign as many as Sebastian. As it’s his first visit here, it seems as though people who have had us sign stuff on my previous trips now want to complete their set.

When the tour ends, Felicity takes us upstairs, and we see Xavier again on the way out.

“It was great to see you all today, gentlemen. If things go well with Harrison’s guitar, we’ll see if we can work out some other deals in the future. Felicity tells me you’ve mentioned a drum kit, Hayden.”

His eyes go as wide as saucers. “Uh, yeah. I definitely have.”

“Seems like a natural progression. We’ll see how we go.”

As soon as we exit the building, Hayden exclaims, “Shiiiiiit. Did you guys hear that?”

“Yes, Hayden. We all have working ears. We heard,” Sebastian says.

“You mad, bro?” Gabriel teases him. “’Cause you sound kinda jealous.”

Sebastian laughs. “No, it’s cool. What’s good for one of us is good for all of us. MaybeIcan get a guitar after Hayden’s drum kit.”

“And we can’t forget Gabriel’s signature hair tie,” I exclaim.

“Mywhat?” Gabriel asks, and both Hayden and I burst into laughter.

We get into the car with Hayden explaining the joke and causing Sebastian to laugh while Gabriel rolls his eyes at them. I carefully set the guitar case between myself and Gabriel after Hayden and Sebastian climb into the backseat before I pull out my phone and see that Heather has sent me a picture.

I angle my screen away from Gabriel and toward the door, then open it. It’s a picture of Heather with her lips wrapped around a popsicle. It’s long and round, forcibly reminding me of her sucking me off, and a shot of arousal heads straight to my crotch.

What time are you free? I will be busy looking at your picture until that time.

It’s only a few seconds before she replies.

6pm at my apartment. Bring arancini or I won’t even open the door.

I laugh out loud, and Gabriel looks at me. “What’s so funny?”

“Heather,” I admit.

All three of my friends are looking at me and seem to be waiting for more of an explanation.

“I’m going to see her tonight, but she warned me that if I don’t bring arancini, she won’t let me in.”

Sebastian laughs, “Yeah, that sounds about right. The way to Heather’s heart is definitely through arancini. Makes me wish I’d paid attention when my nonna tried to teach me to cook.”

“That’s what Giovanni is for,” I wink at him.

The hours between getting home to Hayden’s place, and the time I have to leave to see Heather seem interminable. I love hanging out with my friends, but I’m full of nervous excitement about seeing her tonight. It’s crazy; the last time I saw her was yesterday morning, and it’s not like I haven’t gone long stretches without her lately. Now that I’ve had her back with me again, though, every minute until I see her seems twice as long.

Late in the afternoon, I get a notification of a comment on my photo on Instagram from @officialheatheryork. I quickly open the app to see what she’s written.

Congratulations @officialharrisonfletcher. The guitar looks amazing, and I’m sure that’s why your album sounded so good. xo

My heart pounds in my chest as I read the words over and over—public hugs and kisses. Already, I can see the comments pouring in underneath it. People trying to figure out exactly what it means. I wish I knew for sure, but Heather has always been about appearances. She doesn’t make uncalculated moves on social media.

I consider texting her about it, but decide against it. It can be a part of our conversation tonight. I hit the little heart button next to her comment and lock my phone, unable to wipe the smile off my face.

I leave the guys watching a second film while talking about ordering pizza for dinner, and Michael drives me to Giovanni’s to pick up takeout. Some paparazzi follow us there, but I ignore their questions easily. It’s as though my fledgling relationship with Heather is a talisman against anything they have to say to me.

What happened was awful, but if we can manage to get through this, then we will have made it through the worst thing imaginable. We pull into the underground garage of Heather’s new apartment building, and I have a thousand butterflies flying around my stomach.

“You can head home, Michael. I’ll call you if I need you.” I smile at him as he opens the SUV door to let me out.

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