Page 28 of Before Now

He has his back to the open archway when I enter the kitchen. I casually slap him in the head on my way by to the fridge. Colt curses as I swipe a glass bottle of water, and I smile, shutting the door. Only I sober once turned around. His massive frame blocked Remi on my way in. She has spy glasses pushed up into her hair. Her perky ass leans against a countertop, one bare foot on top of the other and arms crossed. The navy skirt hits her mid-thigh, and the R.E.M. shirt’s ripped neckline dips low.

My hands. Your body.

“Write me a song, baby?” Colt asks.

I look down at my water and twist off the top, shaking my head. “You inspire me to get tested but not much else, my brother.”

Colt rolls his eyes as Remi laughs. My lips twitch at the sound, and my gaze follows it.

Build the walls. Fight the siren’s call.

“At least you’re creative with the insults.” Colt rotates to leave. “Channel that into something useful, and you might have a chance out there, kid.” He condescendingly slaps my cheek while I drink and whispers, “Be nice, asshole,”before he disappears around the corner.

Then it’s just me and her. Alone for the first time since San Francisco, when I lost the shred of control I have and had every intention of finger-fucking her by the stage.

Every second’s a betrayal, every touch a threat.

Fuck, I need to find a way to survive this tour with her. Or at least try.

She lowers her arms and starts to follow Colt out, but I rip off a scab for the sake of my sanity the next few months.

“You went to Sound Clash.” I spare myself thetwo years agopart. No intention of bleeding for her too.

When I spin around, Remi’s frozen, still facing away. Her shoulders rise in a deep breath, and then she slowly turns around. She hesitates, likely wondering how long before this turns.

I couldn’t tell her, but I’m fucking trying.

She steps closer when I wait expectantly, and the tension eases from her shoulders.

“I went to Sound Clash. A few years ago,” she says, but it wastwo. “It was amazing—everything you said it would be.”

I nod and repeat what I told her about the battle of the bands, “Wasted college kids, shitty riffs, and pure magic.”

She laughs, nodding back. “The magic part’s addicting. The atmosphere and crowd and … I don’t think anyone can really understand without being there.”

Withouttrulyseeing it.

“You nailed it in your documentary. Maybe not as exhilarating as being on the stage yourself, but as close as you can get.”

“I can’t believe you watched it,” she says.

I could tell her the band watched everything when the label brought her on. Tell her Dev and Felix loved it too. Instead, I drop the veil fully. I speak to Remi Sinner but ask Remi Saint what I’ve really wanted to know.

“How far into the park did you go?”

Remi slams me with the emerald eyes. The mask hiding the sadness in them slips, yet she has the tiniest upturn to her mouth.

I half-smile, question answered. “You saw the fountain.”

“Reallysaw it,” she almost whispers.

The amount of time that can span a few seconds of silence in the right circumstances is incredible. She searches my eyes, and I tip my head to the side, letting her. The broken girl and wandering boy are face-to-face for the first time. It’s so hard not to fall into what we were. Who we were.

Who Ithoughtshe was.

I look away, and my armor’s back in place when I return my gaze. “I’m glad something was real for you.”

“Foster.” She cringes using my name and checks over her shoulder to see if anyone’s near us.

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