Page 80 of When the Stars Rise
We’re laughing but I love how Noah just gets me. He knew exactly what I was talking about because he’s my person. Whether it’s two in the morning or two in the afternoon on a rainy day in Kentucky, Noah is my person.
The laughter dies on my lips as our eyes meet. The moment feels so charged and my breathing gets shallow.
I adore you.
Is it weird to miss someone even when they’re sitting right beside you, breathing the same air and holding your hand in theirs?
I don’t know but that’s just the way it’s always been for me.
Headlights appear in my periphery and the black SUV pulls in beside Noah’s bike. That was only five minutes, not ten.
Now I’m worried that Chris really was just down the road waiting for us to finish. My cheeks flush with embarrassment again as Noah and I get to our feet, and I grab my jacket before turning to Noah.
“Come with us.” Even before the words are out of my mouth, I know he won’t.
He shakes his head and smiles to soften the blow. “I can’t leave my bike.”
“But what will you do?” I wrap my arms around him and lift my eyes to his face. I’m acting like he’s going off to war, but I hate leaving him behind. “Will you be okay?”
“Don’t worry about me. I’ll be fine.”
Still, I hesitate, torn. “Noah—”
“Go.” He gives me a soft kiss before turning me around and giving me a little nudge toward the car. “I’ll see you in Louisville.”
Worry gnaws at me, but Chris is waiting, and I have a show tonight, so I have no choice but to leave without him. “Drive safely,” I call over my shoulder.
I start to get in the passenger seat, but Chris opens the back door for me. “There’s some dry clothes on the seat.”
Of course, he thought of everything. He always keeps a change of clothes, snacks, and water in the car for me.
I slide into the back and watch Noah as Chris pulls out of the car wash. When we get onto the road, I look for him again, and it’s only then that it dawns on me—anyone driving past could have seen us having sex.
I laugh to myself. Maybe I’m more of a badass than I give myself credit for.
After I change into a hoodie and leggings, I climb through the seats to the front and plop down in the passenger seat.
Chris raises his brows but says nothing. I don’t know if he wants the company, but I can’t help but think that babysitting me must be a lonely job.
“What kind of music do you want to listen to?” I ask, scrolling through my playlists. I don’t want to spend the rest of the drive worrying about Noah driving in the rain, so I need a diversion.
He glances over at me. “Whatever you want.”
“Okay. But what do you listen to when I’m not in the car?”
“Besides my Hayley Saint James playlist?”
I laugh, not sure if he’s joking or not. “Yes, besides that. Do you have a favorite genre? A favorite band?”
It’s weird that I don’t know any of this, but Chris isn’t a big talker and only supplies personal information if I ask. Even then, it’s the bare minimum.
“I don’t listen to much music outside of your concerts.”
I’m in shock. “Seriously?” He shrugs. “I just…” I sag against my seat. “I don’t even know what to say about that.” I can’t even begin to imagine a life without music. “So, what do you listen to on long drives?”
“Podcasts. Talk radio. The occasional audiobook.”
“Okay,” I say slowly. I still can’t wrap my head around this.No music? “So you don’t like any kind of music?”
