Page 66 of The Heartstrings of Harry
By the timeI made it to the park, the place was unrecognizable.
What was usually a sleepy green patch of lawn with a couple of benches and Winnie’s Wishing Well now looked like the lovechild of a monster truck rally and a NASA test site. Trusses and towers rose like launchpads blocking out the sun. Cables twisted underfoot in every direction, marked with fluorescent tape and, for reasons I couldn’t begin to understand, one hand-painted sign that read:Do Not Lick the Cables.
Crew members in hi-vis vests zigzagged around the field, shouting into walkie-talkies, rolling speaker stacks into place, and arguing over something called a “diode sync issue,” which sounded way out of my league.
Suddenly someone yelled, “Heads up!” and a roll of gaffer tape went flying through the air, missing my head by mere inches.
“Jesus Christ.” I tucked my hands deep into the pockets of my jacket, kept my head down, and told myself to breathe. Two more days. Two more days and this would be over. Two more days and I could go back to pretending to enjoy my career while slowly losing my mind in peace.
The thing was, I hadn’t wantedanyof this. The cameras, the lights, the screaming crowds, the goddamn terrifying drones overhead that made me feel like I was about to be audited by the government.
But Astrid wanted it. And Astrid usually got what she wanted.
Also, there was the stalker thing.
So here I was, playing along, putting on the show, trying not to crack down the middle from the anxiety.
And then there wereotherreasons my chest felt like it was in a vise.
Because as much as this whole thing made my skin crawl, there was one person here who made the ground feel a little steadier beneath my feet.
I spotted him across the park, and the minute my eyes landed on him, my heart did a drum solo, loud and wild.
Harry.
Cap pulled low, clipboard in hand, he tried his best to control the chaos, or at least one little corner of it. His broad shoulders looked like they could hold up half the rigging if the trusses gave out. His arms were tanned from the sun, strong and sure, and there was that beard, bushy and dark, that made me want to lose my damn mind.
He laughed at something Mitch said, head tilted back just enough that I caught the smile. That soft, rare, easy Harry smile that most people didn’t even know existed.
God, I wanted to walk straight over there and grab him by the front of his shirt, press my mouth to that bearded jaw, feel his hands slide under my jacket and let him claim me right there in front of everybody. Hell, let the whole town know. Screw the shock and surprise, screw the secrecy.
But I couldn’t.
Because nobody could know.
Not yet.
The thought of anyone guessing, anyone evensuspecting, made my skin prickle like a thousand tiny needles stabbing me.
“Dean!Dean!”
Astrid’s voice snapped me out of my muddled thoughts and emotions like I’d been slapped.
She was striding toward me, iPad in one hand, headset clamped down like she was calling in an airstrike.
“Dean,focus,darling. We’ve got to go over the load-in schedule, the pyro cues, and the second outfit change for the finale.” She glanced at me, narrowed her eyes. “Are you even listening?”
I blinked at her. “Uh—yeah. Yeah. Load-in. Pyro. Finale.”
She gave me theI know you’re lying but I don’t have time to deal with youlook she’d pretty much perfected.
“Good.” She flicked through something on her iPad, lips pursed. “We’re tight on rehearsal time, but I’ve carved out three hours tomorrow afternoon for you to run through the set list. Lighting wants to test the spot op tracking, and we need to rehearse the camera cranes, so they don’t get too close on the aerial shots during ‘Break Me Down.’ Also, your mic pack’s arriving tonight. Pray it actually works in this backwater frequency zone.”
I nodded along, trying to pretend my stomach wasn’t doing somersaults. My eyes kept drifting—couldn’t help it—back across the field to where Harry was crouched down next to Ginny’s wheelchair, listening to her like whatever she was saying was the most important thing in the world. It probably was. That kid was smart as all get out.
Astrid kept talking, fast and sharp. “Soundcheck’s still locked in unless we hit a delay on the roof rigging—but don’t worry, I’ve threatened Barney’s job twice already this morning, so we should be fine. Also, I have good news and bad news. The bad news is that Benson Boone is a no-show. Apparently, he has some children’s charity to attend. Rude! But the good news is Bogdan has doubled his security team, so we’ll have eyes everywhere, looking out for you-know-who.”
I tried to nod like I was paying attention, but my throat felt tight. All I could think about was the way Harry’s hand rested steadily on the back of Ginny’s chair, the way his forearms flexed as he stood again, tucking the clipboard under one arm, sleeves shoved up just enough to show that line of hair on his arms that I’d traced with my fingers just yesterday.
