Page 57 of One More Made Up Love Song
“Stop it,” I say. “You can’t say stuff like that. He just had a good show. That’s all it was.”
She presses her lips together like she’s suppressing a smile. “I didn’t sayIwas saying it, I saidtheyare saying it. His fans. The world at large.”
“Good,” I say as the elevator dings and the doors slide open. “That means they’re buying it. Which means Kat’s press release worked.”
“The new meme of you and Freddie kissing is probablyalsohelping,” Carina says. This time, when she flips her phone around, I take it, pausing just outside of the elevator to watch the three-second clip of Freddie taking my face in his hands and kissing me squarely on the mouth.
It’s the first time I’ve seen a video. For all I knew, the photographer only captured images of our kiss. Then again, I’ve made a point to avoid social media the past couple of days. Self-preservation and all that.
The clip repeats over and over, the text at the bottom reading “When your mood is ‘I was just kissed by Freddie Ridgefield’ good.”
It’s disconcerting to watch the clip, to see Freddie lift his hands to my face and lower his mouth to mine. Watching it like this, repeated in slow motion, triggers a flurry of emotions in my chest that make my skin flush and my heart race.
Freddie Ridgefield kissedme.And the whole world knows it.
I hand Carina her phone. “Please stop watching that.”
“I’m just saying,” she argues. “It feels believable that there’s a correlation.”
“Well, stop saying,” I shoot back. “At least in front of Freddie.”
In front of us, Wayne is waiting outside a black SUV with our driver, who jumps forward to take our bags as soon as we approach.
“Freddie’s already inside?” I ask, and Wayne nods.
“It’s rare he beats you,” he says.
I tilt my head toward my sister. “I was waiting onher.”
“Not a morning person,” Carina says. “Sorry about that.”
Wayne opens the door for us, and I climb in first, realizing as I do that with Carina joining us, I’m going to be sittingveryclose to Freddie. Most of the tour staff, including Seth, will be driving back to Nashville on the buses we’ve been traveling on for the past four months, but Freddie and I, along with Wayne and now Carina, are flying so he can get into the studio with Leo as quickly as possible.
At least, that’s been the plan. I have no idea what he’ll actually do once he’s in the studio with Leo since, as far as I know, he doesn’t have any new music to record. But that’s a problem only Freddie can solve.
I settle into the middle seat, trying not to notice the warmth of Freddie’s body or how good he smells.
“Morning,” I say breezily. “Sorry you had to wait for us.”
“That’s my fault,” Carina says from the seat beside me. She leans forward and smiles. “Hi, Freddie. Good to see you again. Thanks for…” She hesitates. “For helping with the whole Margot thing. And for the new phone.”
“No problem,” Freddie says. “And you’re welcome. How are you feeling?”
“Good as new,” Carina says. She settles back into her seat, and Freddie looks down at me. “How are you?”
My heart rate spikes at the warmth in his voice, at his lower, quieter tone that feels like it’s just for me.
“Good,” I say, voice breathier than I would like. “Great.” I look up and meet his eye. “You’re getting excellent reviews for last night. I already forwarded you one from theLA Times.”
“I saw,” he says. “Thanks for sending it.” He clears his throat, shifting in his seat so that the entire span of his leg, from the top of his thigh all the way down to his knee is pressed up against mine. I don’t think it was intentional—three grown adults sitting across the bench seat of an SUV makesnottouching practically impossible—but I’m still keenly aware of every place we’re touching. “Did you sleep okay?” Freddie asks.
I think back, trying to remember if Freddie has ever asked me about my sleep before. I don’t think he has, but it could also be that he does all the time—it’s just never felt significant until now.
Until my stupid brain started cataloging every little thing, adding meaning where it isn’t intended.
“Good,” I answer. “I only woke up once. But only to pee, which, you know. That’s normal. So all in all, a really good night’s sleep.”
Freddie lifts an eyebrow as I silently die inside.
