Page 84 of A Love Song for Dreamers

“So, you did it, and NT wasn’t even involved,” she muses. Before I can argue, she heads for the kitchen and pours shots of bourbon. “Cheers.”

We toss them back, and the warmth burns down mythroat.

I think of Miranda’s reaction when I called her on the way home, how ecstatic she’d been despite the late hour. I debated whether to tell her tonight or tomorrow, but hearing her reaction, I was glad I didn’twait.

“You tell Tyler yet?” Elle’s gaze over the shot glass is full ofmeaning.

I shake myhead.

“He deserves to know—it’s his story too,” Elle goeson.

I pour us both another shot and pass her one. “I feel like I pulled it from theair.”

We toast and toss this one backtoo.

“Come on.” Elle sets her shot glass on the counter and leans a hip against it, her lips twisting. “A girl who thought her heart was stolen and that’s why she couldn’t feel goes on a journey with the help of a boy who shows her what it means to live and learns she had it allalong.”

I’m shaking my head before she finishes. “The female lead is nothing like me. She doesn’t have a heart. She doesn’t think she’s missing anything until someone points that out. I’ve never had that problem. I feel way toomuch.”

“Obviously. But you’re not her. Tyleris.”

I wash the shot glasses and cast a look over my shoulder. She tips her chin down, staring at me as if I’m being deliberatelyslow.

My hands still in the sink, bubbles filling thebasin.

“You’re the other lead,” she goes on. “The boy who shows her what it means to live, and love, and takechances.”

I turn off the faucet and watch the water drain out. The shiny dish soap glints on the surface as the bubbles spiral around and around, finally slipping down thedrain.

I set the glasses on the drying rack. When I face my roommate, I brace a still-wet hand on the counter. “That’s nottrue.”

But my chest squeezes. The next breath is harder than thelast.

It’sourstory. Mine and Tyler’s. Not all of it of course, but thecore.

I cross to the couch and perch on the arm. Elle’s face fills with empathy as she follows. “He’d be proud. You should send it tohim.”

“How long have youknown?”

“Since you started telling me about it a year ago. Does he know you lovehim?”

I shove off the couch and pace the width of our apartment. “Yes.” I pause by the window. “But Tyler has always chosen freedom, to do his own thing and rely on himself. New York isn’t what he wants. And I want this show, Elle. Not only for me, but also for everyone involved. For everyone who’ll get to see it if we keepgoing.”

“You want it enough to let Tyler go? Not that I want to lose youandBeck to LA”—her lips curve in a sad smile—“but you couldwrite.”

I return to the counter for the shot glasses and pour half a glass more for each ofus.

“We always stayed true to our dreams, for better or worse, and I love that about us. But a career isn’t made or broken in one perfect moment. It’s hundreds of choices over thousands of days. What if love is the same, Elle?” I think of the ups and downs with my family, my dad. “Maybe we were meant to be apart for a couple of years, and that decision wasn’t wrong, it was just one more choice that helped us grow and learn and become more of who were supposed to be. Maybe we have more choices ahead of us, starting right now, and nothing in the world can keep us apart if I find ways to choosehim.”

The ideas start coming in a rush, all at once. “If I can find the right person to play the female lead, I can finish the show without having to be init.”

Her eyes widen. “You’d give up playing the lead forTyler.”

A surge of energy takes me over, and I know in an instant what I’m thinking isright.

“I wouldn’t be giving up something I want. I’d be choosing something I don’t want to livewithout.”

He’s my best friend, the only man I’ve everloved.

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