Page 63 of Where Happiness Begins

I don’t know what sends the shiver down my back, the simple touch or the even simpler thought. The only thing I do know is that it might have been better for us to be apart these next three weeks after all.

Chapter 26

“We need to find you a new name.”

“I’m sorry?” Carter says, faltering in his steps.

“Carter’s just not personal enough,” I say as we pass a beaver tails stand that smells so good it makes my stomach grumble, even after the amazing poutine dinner we just had. “And you don’t seem to like Andrew.” There was no missing how he winced every time his brother called him that. “Hence, you need a new name.”

“Carter’s fine,” he says, not even bothering to turn my way. He’s been on a mission since this morning to show me every part of the city, and while I’m tired from having walked a million miles, it’s been fun to have him as a guide.

Today was the first time since we started this leg of the tour that we had a day off, either from shows or from recording sessions—apparently, Carter wasn’t lying when he said inspiration had struck—and when he walked up to my bed this morning and asked if I wanted to have a tour of Montreal, I almost hit my head against the top bunk from how excited I was. We haven’t had time to visit much in between stops, only a few hours here and there, so I wouldn’t have given up on thatopportunity.

He wasn’t kidding when he said he’d show me around. In a single day, we’ve gone to almost all the big attractions the town has to offer, tasting delicious foods and seeing a city that’s both modern and from another era.

I close an eye. “Drew?”

Carter doesn’t answer, keeping his stride toward the hotel we’re staying in tonight before tomorrow’s show. Being able to have some privacy and take a shower in a real bathroom for the first time in days will be a treat.

“Andy?”

When he turns toward me at that, I’m already grinning. The sun is slowly starting to set, creating a halo of golden light around his frame.

“No.”

“You’re boring,” I say, nudging him with my shoulder.

“Deal with it.”

“I think I’ll stick with Andy.”

“Not a chance in hell.”

Riling him up truly is my favorite sport.

“How far are we from the hotel?” My shoulders are burnt to a crisp and I can’t wait to spend an hour under a cold jet and bathe in aloe. Who knew summer days in the city could be so brutal?

“Almost there.”

The hotel isn’t our next stop, though. Two minutes later, I grab Carter’s arm, pausing in front of one of the most beautiful churches I’ve ever seen, an ancient monument smack dab between two skyscrapers. The way the end-of-day sunlight catches the stonewalls and statues, drenching them in orange and marigold all the while ricocheting from the windowpanes of neighboring buildings, takes my breath away.

Even with the hand on his arm, Carter continues walking as he follows the traffic, hundreds of workers crossing the street as they walk back home, and I have to pull on his shirt to make him realize I’ve stopped.

“What are you doing?” he asks.

“Forcing you to enjoy the moment for a second.”

I expect him to grumble, but somehow, he doesn’t, simply standing next to me facing this scene that could be a painting.

“You’re alive. Take it all in,” I say, closing my eyes at the warmth caressing my cheeks, inhaling the scent of freshly cut grass while the sound of children playing and someone strumming their guitar in the park nearby fills my ears. I focus on the feel of Carter’s shoulder brushing my skin, on the thrum of my heart in my chest, on the tickle of the blades of grass against my sandals. A moment like this, so perfect, so fragile, is worth a thousand bad ones. I want him to feel it too. To see how lucky we are, how our own lives can feel like movie scenes despite it all.

When I finally reopen my eyes, I don’t know how much time has passed. What I do know is that light is lower in the sky than it was before, and Carter’s gaze is hotter on me than the sun ever was.

“Okay, we can go now,” I say, my voice steadier than how I’m feeling.

He doesn’t move right away, his hazels studying me, and when they dip to my lips, even for only a second, I feel iteverywhere. I remember the taste of his lips, the way he sounded when he kissed me, like he could never get enough. How heavenly the heat of his body felt under mine.

Focus. It was a mistake. We both said so.

---