Page 58 of Dirty Little Mistake

I shifted on the couch, careful not to wake her, as I reached for the remote to lower the volume. Some slasher film cast blue shadows across her face, but she'd stopped watching an hour ago. Her head rested against my chest, one hand curled into my shirt like she was afraid I'd disappear while she slept.

Maybe she was.

I'd promised her so many things - promises that had crumbled under the weight of fear. But watching her now, feeling the steady rhythm of her breathing against me, I knew this time was different. Tomorrow, I'd board a plane, play shows in cities whose names blurred together, and smile for cameras I hated. But for the first time, I had something, someone I wanted to come back to.

My phone buzzed again from somewhere on the floor - probably Jazz with more demands about the photoshoot. I ignored it. Instead, I traced my fingers along Cam's arm, memorizing this moment: the faint scent of her shampoo, the warmth of her body melted against mine, the way her lips curved slightly even in sleep. The simple perfection of being here, being us, with no expectations or complications.

Just before I drifted off, she murmured something in her sleep and burrowed closer, pressing a kiss to her hair as I let my eyes close, knowing that whatever tomorrow brought, this night had changed everything, and this time I had no intention of fucking it up.

Chapter 28

Camryn

Rolling onto my back, I blew out a heavy sigh. The digital clock on my nightstand blinked 2:37 AM, its white glow a silent accusation. My body ached with exhaustion from hours of dance today, yet my mind raced, denying me the sleep I craved.

My mind wandered to Trystan, and a slow smile spread across my face as my insides fluttered. Everything had changed between us while he was home. He'd been there for me. Making sure I was okay when I didn't have anyone else. He sat with me in the hospital waiting room, making sure I ate, comforted, and reassured me when I thought I was going to lose my best friend, but thankfully, I didn't.

My phone beeped, and I smiled. For the last two weeks, Trystan texted after all his shows, and sometimes, we would talk all night. I loved it. I loved that he chose me when I knew he had hundreds of groupies there willing to fulfill his every fantasy, but he chose to talk to me thousands of miles away, knowing there was no chance of a happy ending.

I picked up the phone and opened my messages.

Trystan: Are you sleeping?

My lips curved upward, and my pulse quickened, a familiar warmth spreading through my chest at the sight of his name on my screen.

Camryn: Nope. How was your concert?

The little bubble popped up, and I pushed myself up to a sitting position and pulled my knees to my chest.

Trystan: It would have been better if you were here. How was class?

Camryn: Exhausting. We are getting ready for our end-of-year showcase.

Trystan: Am I invited?

I reread the text. This was my third year at Royal Academy of the Arts, and never once had Trystan been to one of my performances. Last year, Jax and Owen came, but even though Trystan was invited, he didn't come.

Camryn: Invitations will go out later this year.

I added a smiling emoji, trying to play it cool. Plus, who knew where Trystan and I would end up. Right now, things seemed like he was actually invested, but with his commitment issues, who knew what would happen?

Trystan: Busy day?

Camryn: The usual. Grabbed dinner with Jax and Owen at the bar after class since Kaia was working.

The bubble didn't immediately pop up. In fact, it didn't pop up for so long that I thought he'd left the chat. I'd started to type 'Are you still there?' when the bubble popped up again.

Trystan: Owen?

Now, I understood. He was jealous.

Camryn: Yes, problem?

The bubble popped back up and then disappeared and then reappeared over and over like he couldn't decide how he wanted to respond, and for some reason, that made me giggle, but my chest tightened when it completely disappeared.

My phone rang, and I nearly jumped out of my skin, fumbling with my phone to keep it from hitting the floor.

It was Trystan.

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