“Do you need something, Adriana?” I ask, voice low.
She tilts her head. “Just making sure you’re...focused.”
Nolan clears his throat. “Let’s keep it professional, boys.”
Hypocrite.
He leans back. “This trip is easy. In and out. Smile for the camera, shake hands, sing the songs. Don’t make me fix anything. No fucking outbursts.” His gaze pins me. “Understand?”
I chew my lip. Emma’s face flashes in my mind. And then I’m back here, across from the two people who ruined my life, pretending everything is fine. I force a nod.
Halfway through the meal, Adriana sets her hand on my thigh, sliding up towards my crotch. Micah stiffens beside me. My vision goes white-hot for a second. I shove back from the booth hard enough that the table shakes.
“I need a smoke.”
Nolan doesn’t stop me. Adriana just smirks like she enjoys toying with me. Stupid cunt.
I walk out of the restaurant, jaw clenched so tight my teeth ache, and push through the door into the sunlight. The crisp air smacks me sharply in the face. I dig a cigarette from my pocketand light it, my hands still not entirely steady. I text Emma before I can think about it.
You still making me do this tonight?
Just seeing her name on my screen pulls me back from the edge.
Micah steps outside a minute later, rubbing his temples. “You almost lost it in there, dude.”
“I know.”
“You want another bump?” he asks quietly.
I inhale smoke and shake my head. “Yeah, after lunch. I want to go back to the house and relax. Emma’s forcing me to go visit my parents later.”
His eyes widen. “Jesus. How long has it been?”
I exhale, blowing out a puff of smoke. “About three years.”
“Damn,” he mumbles. “I really hope it goes well for you. I just talked to my dad yesterday. I don’t know what I’d do without my parents. I’m happy you’re doing this.”
I don’t say anything. I just stare ahead at the passing cars on the street.
“I see why you love her, that’s for sure.”
Chapter twenty-four
JUDE GRAVES
I pull up outside Emma’s place and cut the engine, my fingers drumming against the steering wheel like they’re trying to burn off nerves. It’s stupid—I’ve played crowds of fifty thousand people without blinking. But this? Seeing my parents after three years? Jesus. I’d rather take the stage high, unprepared, and in front of Hollywood’s wealthiest and snobbiest motherfuckers all at once.
The front door swings open before I can knock. Emma steps out, pulling her coat tight, hair in a loose braid over one shoulder. She gives me a small, steady smile.
“You ready?” she asks.
No. Not even close. “Yeah,” I lie.
She slides into the passenger seat, and pretty soon, the ocean comes into view. The closer we get to my parents’ beach house, the tighter my chest feels. I haven’t been here since I was twenty, back when life was simpler, and I had no idea how quickly things could collapse. When I park along the curved driveway, the house looks exactly the same. Beautiful, warm, and safe.
I feel like an intruder walking up to the door.
Emma nudges me with her shoulder. “You’re okay.”