“Are you talking about Pleasant Park?” I ask, lips turning up. “Benches on three sides of the fountain and trees everywhere?”

“Yeah. I couldn’t remember until you said it. How did you know?”

“I went there last summer. They host a battle of the bands called Sound Clash. A lot of agents circle around, so I wanted to get a feel for what it was like. The stages are on the east end, but dead center of the park is the fountain.”

Her smile softens. “Now that I know, maybe I’ll go.”

“You should. It’s wasted college kids, shitty riffs, and pure magic. Once I have a band, I want to enter. A lot of managers find opening acts there, too.” Then I add, “When we go, I’ll show you your dad’s fountain, and we’ll watch the bands.”

“Oh,” she says, the brat back in her tone. “You think we’re going together? Who said I want to share my dad’s fountain with you?”

I smirk as I round the fountain once more. “No one yet. But you’re about to.”

She bites her lip like she might not but then releases it. “I think I’d like you taking me to Sound Clash.”

Walking to the sign posted near the fountain, I focus on the number. “If you text it, they’ll write your message in the water.”

Her phone moves, telling me she’s sending one, so I tap out and write my own. Neither of us asks what the other texts, and I’m fucking grateful she doesn’t, so I won’t have to lie.

I’d more than like taking her. I’d more than like a lot of things when it comes to her. And I’m already thinking how I can make every single one of them happen.

It should worry me how sideways she’s turned me. How my direction suddenly seems pointed straight toward her. I’m not one to let others have access to the organ in my chest in the way she’s demanding. I let it beat for music and experiences. People don’t take enough care to not crush something as delicate as a heart. I know this, and yet, not only has she taken part of it, but right now, the thud of mine sure is starting to sound a lot like Remi.

22

REMI

Now…

It’s different.

When I meet Foster’s gaze as I enter the dressing room, seeing him for the first time since he left me in his bunk, he rakes it over me. The smirk that follows reignites tingles and a fluttery sensation he used to always elicit. Only now they accompany thoughts of him kissing me and touching me. Memories of his gorgeous face and heavy-lidded eyes staring down at me while he fucked my mouth.

The space between us hasn’t lost a fraction of the tension, but it’s different.