Total pages in book: 116
Estimated words: 111253 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 556(@200wpm)___ 445(@250wpm)___ 371(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 111253 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 556(@200wpm)___ 445(@250wpm)___ 371(@300wpm)
Supernova: Beautiful.
Me: I know I am.
Supernova: *eye roll*
Me: You know you love it.
Me: Your turn. Send me a picture.
She sent a few of the forest canopy, the reds bleeding to orange and yellow. She sent me her own waterfall. She sent me one of craggy rocks falling off into the abyss. None of them were what I wanted.
Me: Show me one of you.
A moment later, a photo of her standing on a cliff, her back to the camera, looking out at the mountain peaks popping through the thick covering of clouds. My lids slid closed, and I imagined I was there behind her taking the picture. I’d have taken it and then wrapped my arms around her to stare out at the beauty beyond, her long fiery hair whipping around us.
The image settled deep in my bones, but it wasn’t the one I wanted.
Rock Star: Not an Instagram one. I want to see you.
I held my breath, watching the bubbles appear and disappear, only to reappear again. Finally, when I was sure I’d pass out, a picture came through.
Her over-exaggerated smile hit me so hard, I couldn’t help but laugh. Her dimples showed up in full force. Her full lips stretched over her perfectly white teeth. Small specks of freckles I knew by heart covered the bridge of her nose. The only thing missing was her grass-green eyes hidden behind her lids squeezed tight. Strands of her hair hung from the messy bun piled on top of her head. My fingers twitched around the phone, wanting to reach out and brush them back behind her ears.
God, she was stunning, and each second of not being able to actually see her only served to make me want her more—to touch her and be with her more than just through a speaker.
I tapped her name and hit the camera.
On the third ring, she finally picked up. The same girl in the photo smiling back through the phone.
“Aww, you took a selfie just for me.”
“I don’t have a ton of photos of myself on my phone,” she explained, a perfect blush staining her cheeks.
“What kind of tea are you drinking?”
“How do you know it’s not coffee?”
I gave her a deadpanned stare. “Because you’d never sleep if you drank coffee this late.”
“Peppermint,” she admitted softly.
“Your favorite.”
Silence filled the line, and I hoped she was remembering how much I knew her, remembering how close we’d been. Maybe if she remembered that enough, she’d forget the worst part and give in to seeing me.
“Guess where I’m going to be next month?” I asked, my excitement bringing me to the edge of my seat.
“Where?” she asked equally excited. “London? Paris? Timbuktu?”
I laughed at her suggestions. “No. New York,” I exclaimed. “We’re playing the last two songs of the year on New Year’s Eve.”
“Holy shit,” she breathed, her hand covering her mouth.
“Yeah, that about sums it up.”
“Parker, that’s amazing.” Her face split into the smile I knew better than my own, her dimples digging deep. The green of her eyes sparked with the same joy that shot its way through me every time I thought about playing at Times Square.
“Right? We’re so fucking pumped.”
“It’s not even me, and I’m pumped for you.”
Something shifted in my chest, a piece sliding into place I hadn’t known was missing. The band had a lot of success, and we’d always shared it with each other, but I couldn’t deny how my mind had always gone to Nova, how I’d already reached for the phone to call her. I missed sharing our wins with someone outside of the band who supported me wholeheartedly. That need immediately got followed by the crashing reminder of how she cut me out of her life.
So, I’d taught myself to block out that need to reach for her. Apparently, blocking it wasn’t the same as getting rid of it completely because, like it’d been lying in wait, the joy of sharing with her filled me to bursting.
“I miss you,” I whispered, scared that if I said it too loud, it would scare her off.
She dropped her face, hiding like always, but I still said it. I missed her more and more with each day. Hell, I’d been missing her each day and not even realizing it until I saw her again. So fucking much that it grew like a drop of blood in water, changing something in me I hadn’t known could be changed.
Every day I still looked for her. Every show, I wondered if she’d surprise me and be out in the crowd. Every redhead sent a spark of electricity through me, only to be doused out before the fire could begin.
I’d told her before I missed her in passing—as a joke—and she’d shut down. But this time, when she looked up, something else happened.
Maybe something was changing in her too.