He melts against my face, unable to resist for five and a half beautiful seconds.
Then I pull away. “Icannotgo for weeks without feeling your arms around me. Or your lips on mine. I refuse to let all that time slip by when I’m only just now starting to see what life can be like when I let myself have what I want. Don’t you feel it, too?” I take his hand and place it over my chest. He must notice myheart racing, the way his pretty eyes react. “Isn’t it nice? To have what you want? Let me do this. Just a few shows while you’re gone. Maybe three. I’ll pick the best ones to come to, ones where you’ve got a day off. Let me be your secret boyfriend.”
His eyes snap to mine. It doesn’t even hit me, what I just said.
Then it does. And I panic. “Uh, s-sorry … I meant—”
“Don’t you dare take that back.”
My eyes widen. “What?”
He takes hold of me and comes close, face hovering in front of mine, eyes alight with excitement. “You went and said it, Timothy. TJ. Secret boyfriend. Don’t you dare give me that gift, then go take it away from me. Nah. It’s mine now, what you just said.”
I stare back at him, spellbound, all the breath knocked out. “So … is that a yes …?” I finally squeak out.
He answers by returning a kiss right back on my lips.
And then I put a kiss right back on his, right here in the front row of the McPherson Pavilion among an audience of no one.
I guess that about settles it.
And when I stand at the front of my house not much later, the sun slipping out of the sky as I watch Austin hop into his car and drive off, I’m exploding inside with a sensation I’ve never once felt in my life before.
I feel like anything is possible.
Everythingis possible.
My mom catches me at the stairs. “Your friend left already? I didn’t even get to say bye. When will he be back?”
“He’s not going anywhere,” I answer her, too caught up in my feelings to care what that sounds like, or this: “If I can help it, he’s not going anywhere at all.” Then I carry my delirious self and my spilling-off-the-side-of-my-face grin up the stairs and to my room.
It’s at my windowsill that I flip open a book I haven’t touched since I’ve been home, a pink-and-red book I was tempted to burn to ash. I flip to the last page. At the bottom of my list—Things I could be instead of Timothy “TJ” McPherson—I add one more entry:
Chase Holt’s actual fucking boyfriend.
Circled ten times. With a heart. And a doodle of a duck named Little A and his shaggy feline friend Kit-Cat.
Chapter 16.
Austin
The hum of the bus in my ears. Countryside flying past all the windows. Fiona and Wily are talking. I’m only half-listening.
Boyfriend … Secret boyfriend.
Did TJ really mean that when he said it?
TJ showed up at our final show last night in Houston, Texas. There weren’t any backstage shenanigans this time. Way too risky. But after the show, we coordinated via text, and while the band and crew went out to celebrate, I feigned needing to stay behind at the hotel and rest, then secretly met TJ at a nearby Korean BBQ chain his college roommate recommended. We sat in the back of the place behind a tall potted plant and, comically out of sight of anyone, enjoyed our meal, fed each other the most delicious bites of meat we grilled right there at the table, and even now and then snuck a kiss. It was like our own little tasty piece of heaven.
Then it was over. We shared a long and clingy hug neither of us wanted to let end. I went back to the hotel, lied to Dee about not being able to rest like I wanted and instead taking a walk, then sat in my room waiting on TJ’s call letting me know he got home.
Now we’re back on the road. Back in the routine. On our way.
But every single part of me is still in that big house in Spruce.
In that warm bed with TJ and his messed up sheets.
At that cute table by the back window with his mom smiling adoringly at me over sandwiches.