Page 60 of Starstruck
She glances up slightly, smiling. “Like what?”
“Don’t know. Anything.” I shrug. “What gave you the idea to host a benefit concert?” I already know it’s for her parents, but I’ve been wonderingwhyshe chose a benefit concert to honour them.
She smiles up at me. “Truth?”
I nod. “Always.”
“You did.”
My brows pull together, confusion no doubt present on myface. That was the last thing I was expecting her to say.
Lennon chuckles. “That night back in January, you joked about being friends with benefits. Remember?”
I think back to our first night together, remembering the comment I made. “I wasn’t joking.”
She giggles. “Clearly I know that now. But at the time I thought you were. Either way, your suggestion for being friends with benefits fuelled my idea for the concert. I’d been wanting to do something to remember my parents, but I wasn’t sure what. Then you said that and everything fell into place.”
“Damn. Guess it’s kismet that I’m headlining then, hmm?” I tease.
She scoffs, smacking me lightly on the chest. “Whatever. I only chose you because I had no other options left.”
“Ouch, Trouble. You really know how to hit me where it hurts.”
“What can I say?” She smirks. “Putting grown men in their place is my specialty.”
I chuckle, pressing a kiss to her forehead. She’s slowly opening up to me, and that trust is everything. “What about your siblings—were they on board with the concert? Are you close to them?”
“They’ve been incredibly supportive, but our relationship has always been kind of…complicated, for lack of a better term.” She sighs, leaning into me further. “Paige is seven years older than me, and Dylan is eleven, so they were always more like a second set of parents to me. Especially with how often my parents were gone. When they took their years-long break, I was able to bond with my siblings a little bit more, but never to the extent I wanted.
“I’m closer with Dylan than I am with Paige. Dylan’s always understood me better, and Paige is really good at pushing my boundaries. But they’ve both been super supportive of the concert from the beginning, thank God. And as much as they drive me crazy sometimes, I don’t know what I’d do without either of them.”
She pauses, shifting so she’s looking at me. “I’ve always been the one of my siblings who doesn’t fit in. You’d think because I’m the one who grew up most like our parents were, it’d be the opposite, but instead it always made me feel so different from the two of them. So I’ve always just tried to stay out of everybody’s way and do my best to please. It’s hard, though, knowing that they both resent me for so much regarding our parents—even if they’ll never admit it, I know they do. And I can’t blame them for it. I would, too.”
My brows furrow, my heart splitting in two. I don’t know who or what made this incredible woman so down on herself, but I’ll stop at nothing to convince her otherwise. “What would they have to resent you for?”
She lifts her shoulders, avoiding my gaze. “The accident. And…other things.”
My throat works as I tilt her chin up to look at me again. “The accident wasn’t your fault,” I rasp, considering whether or not to push further. Her brother’s mention of their parents’ break at the funeral and the way his eyes shifted to Lennon has been on my mind for weeks now, and I’m desperate to know whatother thingsshe’s referring to. So I ask just that.
“Do these ‘other things’ have to do with why your parents took a ten-year break?”
She nods, rolling her lips together.
“Do you want to talk about it?” I ask hesitantly.
Her face falls. She’s silent for a moment, like she’s contemplating whether or not to tell me the truth. She pinches the skin between her thumb and forefinger, so I place my hand softly over hers, drawing her attention back to me.
“Um,” she finally says. “I…I had cancer.”
I rear back slightly as my brows pull together, completely shocked by the words that just came out of her. I’m really not sure what I was expecting her to say, but it definitely wasn’t that.
She holds my gaze as she continues. “Acute myeloid leukemia.It was already stage three by the time I was diagnosed. It’s a rare cancer in children, but I guess I was one of the lucky ones.”
Sarcasm fills her voice as tears begin to well in her eyes. She smiles sadly when I intertwine my fingers with hers, sending her a barely noticeable nod to urge her to keep going.
I could listen to her talk all day, and I want to know everything there is to know about this woman.
“I was six when it happened. I hadn’t been feeling well for a few months prior, but everyone just thought I was anemic. Until I got hit in the face with a dodgeball at school—which should be every kid’s right of passage. Instead, it was the moment that changed mine forever.
