Page 146 of Forever To Me

The second our lips touch, the crowd loses their damn minds. I hear Maggie’s delighted screech, Cami shouting "FINALLY!"

A few whistles make it all the way from the back, but it all blurs because his hand slides into my hair, his fingers curling against my scalp, and his mouth, God, his mouth.

The kiss is slow. Deep. He feels so good. Like he’s making sure I know exactly how much I mean to him. My heart swells so much with his touch. I never want this moment to end.

When we finally break apart, I’m breathless. His thumb brushes my cheek, his eyes flicking between mine.

And then, from the front row, Maggie lets out the sharpestwhistle I’ve ever heard and shouts, “Well, hell! That wasn’t just a performance, that was the show of the damn century! Somebody put it in the books! We just witnessed history!”

Walker groans, laughing, dropping his forehead against mine.

Cami yells, “Forget the fundraiser! Y’all could charge admission forthat!”

I shake my head, grinning. “We arenevergonna live this down.”

Walker smirks. “No, we are not.”

The world feelsdifferentafter that performance. Like something inside me cracked open, something raw, real, and impossible to ignore.

I can still feel Walker’s voice tangled with mine, the heat of his knee pressed against mine, the weight of his gazepulling me in like gravity. How he looked at me—like I washis—was enough to make me believe it, even if just for a few minutes.

And then the kiss.

God, thekiss.

I’m still catching my breath, still floating in the electric charge of whatever we just created, when I feel it—the shift.

Not in me. Inhim.

Walker stiffens beside me, his body going rigid, his easy, breath-stealing smile vanishing like a candle snuffed out in the wind. His jaw locks, his shoulders tense, and something dark flickers in his whiskey-colored eyes.

I barely have time to register it before I feel it, too. The weight of a stare. The kind that burns, sharp and cutting, even across a crowded bar.

I turn my head, and there she is.

Stella.

I recognize her instantly. Because how could I not? She's the woman who has haunted my nightmares and the voice in the back of my head that tells me I don't belong in the music industry anymore. The person who stole everything from me.

She stands near the back, watching us, her arms crossed tight, her manicured nails digging into the sleeves of her coat.She’s tall and blonde, every inch of her sculpted to perfection like she stepped straight out of a high-end music video and intomyworst nightmare.

But it’s her expression that hits me hardest.

She’s not surprised to seehim.She’s pissed to seeme.

Her ice-blue eyes flick between us, her gaze narrowing, her lips pressing into a thin, unforgiving line.

She saw it.All of it.

The song. The way Walker looked at me. The way hetouchedme. The way we kissed like the rest of the world hadfallen away. Her being here ruined what should have been the best moment in my life.

And now?

She looks like she wants to rip my throat out. Like she wants to destroy something else of mine.

But why is she here?

My stomach churns as she starts moving toward us, the sharp click of her heels cutting through the noise of the bar. Everyone around us watches as this unfolds and confusion rests on everyone’s faces.

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