Page 44 of The Fangirl and the Crooner

To Bram, this will feel like a runaway train. And that train might carry him far away from here. Far away from me.

No. I can’t think about myself. This is an amazing opportunity, should Bram decide he wants it. I just have to be cautiously excited for him until I see how he reacts when I tell him. Which should be any time now. He’s been at work all afternoon, and since he’s not working the late shift today, he should be home soon.

Home.

That’s what this place has become to me. I can’timagine leaving, which is why when Willow texted me this morning, I didn’t say anything to Bram before he left for work. I needed to figure out what I’m going to say.

Because the contractors finished repairing the apartment way ahead of schedule, and should I decide I still want to live there, I’ll be able to move in the day after tomorrow.

That thought tempers my nervous excitement over the possible recording deal offer. I’ve been trying not to stress over it all day. I know I should be happy to finally have my own place. It’s what I wanted when I moved here, to be on my own and not dependent on anyone.

But Bram has never made me feel like a mooch. I’m comfortable here, and now that we’ve taken our relationship to the next level, the last thing I want to do is take a step backwards. But I also don’t want to overstay my welcome or take advantage of his generosity.

I know our relationship won’t end if I move out. I just don’t know if Bram wants his space and privacy back. Most people move in together after they fall in love, and we did this whole thing backwards. And while I’ve admitted to myself that I’m falling in love with him, I haven’t told him, yet, and I have no idea if he feels as strongly for me.

I shake my head to clear it and decide to focus on the record label’s message for the time being. I hear the engine of Bram’s car as he pulls into the driveway, and my pulse spikes. When he walks inside and spots me on the couch, his lips curve up into a wide smile. Walking into the living room, he plops down beside me and presses a single firm kiss to mylips.

“Hey, you,” he says tenderly when he pulls back to meet my gaze.

“Hey,” I reply back, then clear my throat. “I have something to show you.”

“Oh, yeah? What is that?” he asks, the innuendo clear in his voice.

“Notthat,” I say with a sassy eye roll, then pull up the message on my phone before handing it over.

I watch his face as he reads, his eyes darting left to right as his entire body tenses up with shock. When he finishes reading, he glances up to meet my eyes.

“Is this real?”

“I think so,” I say with a nod for emphasis. “It’s a verified account, so it’s really them. And I’m honestly not surprised. You’re extremely talented.”

He looks back down at the phone and reads the message again before handing the device over to me. I wait patiently as he digests the request, then finally, he shakes his head.

“I need some time to think this over,” he says. “I don’t want to make a knee-jerk decision.”

“Of course. That sounds like the smart thing to do,” I say softly.

I can’t be selfish and try to push him in either direction. He needs to make this decision on his own, and I’ll only give my input if he asks for it. I place my phone on the coffee table, and Bram wraps his arm around my shoulders and pulls me into his side. Grabbing the remote, he turns on the television and finds a movie we both agree on.

We spend the next two hours cuddled there together,watching the film and not speaking. I’m sure his mind is reeling despite the distraction. I know mine is, over his possible record deal and the text I got from Willow.

Will he expect me to move out the moment the apartment is ready? Or will he ask me to stay here with him?

I know I should just ask him about it, but I can’t bring myself to do it. Not yet.

Tomorrow will be soon enough.

Chapter

Twenty-Eight

Bram

Iwalk into Vincenzo’s, Trace’s favorite restaurant in Jonas Hill where I’m meeting him and Gavin for lunch. I spot the two of them at a table and wave off the hostess when she turns my way. She nods when she sees where I’m headed, and I hear her instruct a waiter to bring me a glass of ice water.

“Hey, Bram. How’s it going?” Gavin asks as I slide into an empty chair at their table.

“Good, man. Good,” I say, then return Trace’s nod.

---