I think she breathes out a soft “wow” but it’s too quiet to be sure. I give her time to think, listening to the solitude of small-town life and wondering if it ever bothered Rylee growing up. I prefer the noise, the chance to drown out my thoughts with whatever surrounds me. Here the silence offers too much opportunity to get lost in your head, and that’d be dangerous for me.
I’d think too much. Regret past choices. Relive pieces I’d rather not. It’s a trigger, one I don’t want to touch because I don’t know what I’d do if I felt like I couldn’t escape.
Instead of indulging me, she asks, “Did you ever meet him? Jon Bon Jovi?”
Settling into the pillow, I chuckle to myself over the thought of meeting one of my many idols. When the opportunity arose, I’d asked Mum if she wanted to come with me since she’s the reason I became a fan, and the second Jon stepped into the room, she nearly fainted.
“Yeah,” I tell her. “Mum and I met him. Chase wasn’t that interested, which was his loss. He missed our mother fangirling like a teenager. I’ll never forget it.”
“Have you ever fangirled someone?”
Snorting, I shake my head. “Nah. Got the jitters? Sure. But I know what it’s like to be on the receiving end, so I try to play it cool.”
“Who gave you the jitters?”
“Tit for tat,” I bargain, sitting up on one of my elbows to see her. She’s facing me, resting on her side with her hands propped under her head as a pillow. “You tell me something, and I’ll do the same in return.”
I wait for her to tell me no, to say she’s tired suddenly, but she doesn’t. “I have too many, honestly. I lived a good life, even with the obstacles I’ve faced. Made good memories with people. I guess one of my favorite childhood memories is when Grandma Birdie taught me how to make her top-secret chili recipe. It’s my mom’s favorite, and I wanted to make her something special for Mother’s Day, so Birdie told me she’d let me in on how to make it exactly like she did growing up so Mom couldn’t tell the difference. My mom still begs me to tell her what the ingredients are, but I promised Birdie I wouldn’t. I still won’t give it up even though my grandma is gone.”
“That must drive her crazy.”
There’s amusement in her tone. “It does. But it was something me and Birdie shared just the two of us, you know? I hold onto that.”
Shifting to my side, I prop my head up onto my palm so I can see her better. “Olivia Newton-John. That’s who gave me the jitters. I was nervous when I found out I’d be at the same event as her. They placed us at the same table like some cruel joke to see what I’d do.”
“What happened?”
“Nearly sweat through my suit. My mother had to tell me to calm down and the guys all teased me mercilessly once they realized why I was getting clammy.” I think back to that day and roll my eyes to myself. Zayne and Jax started singing You’re the One that I Want until I threatened to kick them out of the band.
They’d all laughed. Including Mum.
We both fall to silence for a few heartbeats before she settles on her back. “Since we’ll see Moffie before we go, you should probably know that I have a thing for The Wild.”
I sit up quickly and eye her, the knit blanket falling off me in the process. “The Wild?” I repeat, scoffing at the name of my competition in the industry. “How long have you been sitting on that one?”
I swear she’s smiling. “For a while. I’ve always liked them. Loved them, actually. If you go through my top dresser drawer, you’ll see all of their albums.”
Before she even finishes, I’m up and walking over to the dresser in question. She laughs as I start opening all the top drawers until I find the one she’s referring to, looking at the stash she’s been hiding from me.
“Garrick!” She’s beside me in a heartbeat, laughing as I thumb through every single CD. Is this how Kyler and his old band felt?
“The Wild,” I grumble, picking one up and studying the group of men on the front before holding it next to my face. “Do you think they’re better looking than me?”
The mirror attached to the back of the dresser gives me a chance to see her shrug casually. “Maybe Cannon.”
I turn and look around the room again, wondering if I missed any posters. “I suppose you used to have pictures of them up too? Are those hidden in your closet?”
She swats my arm. “Don’t be ridiculous. I haven’t had pictures of them up since high school. And it was only one. It was a shirtless one of—”
“Cannon,” we say simultaneously, me with grit in my tone and nonchalance in hers.
She peels the CD out of my hand and sets it back down in the drawer before tugging me away from it and toward the bed. We stop at the side, her eyes going between the mattress and the blanket and pillow for me on the floor.
Rylee fidgets with the comforter. “I feel bad that you’re on the floor. It…” She steals a look, her tongue dipping out the side of her mouth before running along the seams. “It’d be okay if we shared for the night. I guess.”
“You don’t sound so sure.”
Her shoulders drop a fraction. “It’s only for a few hours, and it’s not like we haven’t already done it before.”
I lift my hands. “I’ll keep my hands to myself. Unless—”
“Don’t say it,” she grumbles.
I refrain from smiling as she crawls in, moving to one side and leaving plenty of room for me on the other. I grab my things from the floor and put them
