Page 25 of Never Been Worse

Then a photographer takes our photo, and the flash shakes me out of my daydreams, promptly back into reality.

I am here to help sell a narrative for the band.

I am here to build my business, to get clients, and make myself slightly more bulletproof from people like Jeremy.

I am here to repair my reputation.

I am here to help make sure Stella gets the peaceful pregnancy she wants and deserves.

I amnothere to flirt with the admittedly hot guitarist of Atlas Oaks.

I once let a man convince me we were perfect for each other while he bled me dry of creativity and destroyed my self-confidence. I have no place wrapping myself up in something like that once more.

I can’t afford to lose myself more than I already have.

“It can’t,” I whisper, his eyes locked on mine.

With that, the song trails off, the small crowd clapping and cheering. I can pick out both Ava’s loud hoot and Reed’s whistle, the two basically the same person.

“We agreed to no lies,” he whispers before stepping back, grabbing my hand, and bending to kiss the top of it like some gallant prince. My mind is reeling with his words, but still, I can’t help but laugh at his antics, shaking my head.

He smiles back, wide and true, and in that moment, I realize my mission to keep my head and my heart completely separate over the next year might be a lot harder than I anticipated.

“We leave for our honeymoon in thirty minutes. You should probably say your goodbyes,” he says, then walks off.

ELEVEN

WES

“First class,” Harper says with a smile as she looks at the boarding pass I hand her. “Very fancy.”

“Honestly, it’s more of a safety thing. I’m not Riggins or Willa, so the recognition isn’t crazy, but it happens,” I say with a shrug. Although I’m grateful that I’m not as well-known of a face, because I’ve seen what happens when either of them goes out and does get recognized. Sometimes, it’s nice to have the option to justbe.

We move to the boarding gate in relative quiet, not uncomfortable but silent all the same. Harper is wearing in-ear headphones, and occasionally, she hums, then catches herself and stops.

“What are you listening to?” I finally ask an hour into our flight, leaning into Harper's space, unable to resist the temptation to ask. I want to be further in her space, all the way, but I’m terrified of scaring my wife off.

She doesn’t lean away, but she does quickly move her phone, sliding it into her bag and avoiding my question. “Nothing.”

If her frantic moves didn’t give her away, the bright blush on her cheeks does, and I smile wide. “Oh, no, no, little wife, now you have to tell me,” I say. “We agreed to no lies.”

She rolls her eyes and sighs, and I think I’ll have to push more, but then she answers, and I’m taken aback.

“‘All At Once.’” She whispers the name of an Atlas Oaks song from the EP we released before we were even signed, and I sit back, unable to hide my smile.

“Oh damn, an old one.”

She sighs and then reaches for her phone once more. “It’s just a playlist I listen to,” she explains. “When I’m anxious.”

“Anxious?” I ask, suddenly worried about what is making her feel this way.

“I don’t like flying,” she admits. “So I distract myself to not think about the millions of ways this plane could come crashing down.” She lets out a nervous laugh, and I immediately want to make her feel more at ease.

“What else is on your playlist?” I ask, hoping that maybe the conversation will divert her attention. And I’m desperate to know more about her, even if it’s something as mundane as what’s on the playlist she listens to when she’s anxious.

“What?”

“What songs are on your playlist?” Before she can move away or change the subject, I reach for her phone, grabbing it before eagerly scrolling.

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