“You’re not surprised, are you?” I ask. “You know my feelings on that topic.”
He sighs and runs his hand through his shower-damp hair, his bicep flexing. “I don’t take the risks I do because I want todie. I do it because that’s how I want to live.” He enunciates the word “live” as if the distinction is important. “Nothing makes me feel more alive than—"
“Being on the edge of losing control,” I finish. “What if the equipment is faulty and your chute doesn’t open? What if you miscalculate a cliff dive and crash on the rocks? What if—”
“Hey. Don’t think like that. I’m here now. Safe and sound.” Noah grabs my hand and guides it to his chest, flattening my palm over his heart and placing his hand over mine to hold it in place. He does that a lot as if he needs to prove to me that it’s still beating strong and steady. “Besides, we both take risks. You put yourself out there in ways that I don’t. I could even argue that the risks you take are a lot braver. You’remyhero, Hales.”
I roll my eyes and squash a smile. “Yeah?”
“Mmhmm.”
My music—my songwriting—is confessional for the most part. I channel all my experiences into my lyrics. My mental health struggles, the price of fame, body shaming, love, loss, heartbreak. I guess it’s like writing in a journal, like a form of therapy, except that I put my music out into the world.
“I’m just striving to be honest and authentic.”
“That’s why your fans love you,” he says without missing a beat.
“And how about you? Do you love me?” I give him a coy smile, my tone light and breezy, but my heart is ricocheting off the walls of my chest, betraying me.
I’m trying to detect a skipped beat or a racing heart under my palm. But it doesn’t feel like the rhythm of Noah’s heart has changed, and it hurts more than it should.
“I love you more than all our millions of followers put together.” His tone is jokey, so I respond accordingly.
“That’s a whole lotta love.”
He smirks. “I’ve got plenty to go around.” It’s a not-so-subtle reminder of all the girls he’s been with, and I can’t hide my scowl. “You already know I love you.”
I do know that. But is Noahin lovewith me? I know he used to be, but I don’t know where we stand now. We had two chances to get it right and we blew it both times. And even though he’s never come out and blamed me for my choices, I know I hurt him. But he hurt me, too.
But before all that, our love used to shine so bright. We were just kids. Too young to know better. Too selfish to compromise. Obsessed to the point of madness.
God, we were such a beautiful mess.
And now, I just want to find a way to put all that behind us and move on. I’m hoping this will be our third chance to get it right.
“But is it enough?” he asks, studying my face so intensely that I’m forced to look away.
I want to tell him, no, it’s not enough. I want more. I want all of him. I want him to chooseme.
I’m not sure if that’s what he’s asking, though. “Enough for what?” I hedge.
He bites the corner of his mouth. So sexy. So beautiful. Sometimes, I still marvel that the boy with knobby knees has morphed into this hot guy who makes my knees weak with just a smile.
“Enough to save you,” he says quietly.
Aargh. Not this again. I yank my hand away and growl. An actual growl. I sound like a wild animal. Feral and unhinged.
“Whoa there.” He laughs. “Easy, tiger.”
“It’s not your job to save me,” I remind him. My voice has an edge, and I know he hears it.
He grabs my hand again and laces our fingers together to tether me to him. “Bullshit. Whenever you need me, I’ll be there for you.”
“And what about Devin? Do you tell her the same thing?” After the words are out, I want to punch myself in the face.
“Nah. I don’t offer those services to my hookups.”
Ugh. Why did I have to open my big mouth? And this is exactly why we don’t talk about it.