Page 32 of Heart of a Rebel

“Tell me about it,” Noah says, walking up and looking like he hasn’t slept in days. His long blond hair is tied back in a bun on the back of his head and there are dark circles under his eyes.

“Where’s your leash?” Rome teases as Noah adds his bag to the stack in the car.

Noah leans against the car next to Sebastian and wipes his palms over his face. “Don’t be a dick. Not in the mood right now.”

“Me? Never.” Rome grins.

I’m not sure what’s going to be worse, keeping Rome and Sebastian in check when we get to LA or worrying about Noah disappearing every five minutes to call his girlfriend. I appreciate that the man seems committed, but it’s clear she’s not on board with where the band is heading, and I’m not sure it’s going to play out well.

Not that I’m one to talk when I can’t get a certain brunette out of my head.

“Speaking of.” Sebastian looks over my shoulder as tires crackling against the pavement draws my attention.

I turn to see Eloise coming to a stop in her beat-up Hyundai. How that thing is still running beats me, but I guess that doesn’t matter much right now. That car, along with this house, and everything else, is just going to sit here for the next few months while the band is in LA recording.

I’m still not sure how I fit into the world they’re dragging me into, but it feels like I’ve made the right decision more and more by the day. It’s not like I had any attachment to the bar. Much less this town, now that there’s no one left here who matters.

Sam would call it escaping, and maybe she’d be right. But anything is better than sitting still right now.

Eloise steps out of the car, and I walk over to help her with her bags.

“You ready?” I ask when she doesn’t greet me.

She nods, eyes hidden behind her wide-rimmed sunglasses. “The guys ready to go?”

“They are.”

She reaches for a bag, but I snatch the handle and pull it out of her hands.

“Adrian, why didn’t you help us with our shit?” I look up and see Rome grinning at me as he watches me throw one of Eloise’s bags over my shoulder.

“Fuck off,” I tell him, and he goes back to bullshitting with Noah and Sebastian.

Eloise closes the trunk and turns to walk away.

“Hold up a minute,” I stop her, resting my hip against the trunk.

She freezes, not facing me as she tips her chin up and rolls her shoulders back. It’s not news to me that Eloise isn’t always the warmest person, but whatever is going on with her these past couple of weeks has her shut down on another level. She hasn’t so much as cracked a smile.

One would think landing a record deal would put her in a better mood, but all it seems to have done is bring her stress.

Eloise turns to face me, crossing her arms over her chest.

“Did I do something wrong in LA?” I ask, noticing her whole body stiffen at the question.

Even if I was the one who kissed her that night outside her hotel room door, she was the one who first initiated it earlier that evening. At no point did she seem uncomfortable, so I’m not sure why it seems to make her so tense.

“No, you didn’t.” She shakes her head.

“All right.” I rake my fingers across the back of my neck and can’t seem to get a read on her. “Because I thought we were on the same page when we—”

“Adrian.” Eloise looks over her shoulder at the guys and then tips her head to the house. “Not here.”

She walks away and I follow her inside, ignoring the fact that Sebastian calls out to me asking what the fuck we’re doing.

Closing the door behind Eloise, she steps into the den. It’s been emptied of their equipment and feels hollow compared to how it’s been these past few months.

Eloise slips her sunglasses off, and her eyes look like maybe she’s been crying. If so, she’s buried the evidence under a thick layer of eye makeup. But it isn’t the faint redness of her gaze that has my attention, it’s how her eyes are distant. The burnt umber no longer warm, instead cold, emotionless black holes that stare back at me.

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