Page 59 of Rebooting Conor Flynn

“Are you just going to ask him straight out if he changed my phone number in your new phone? He probably won’t even remember.”

“I can try. I have to try.” I closed my eyes and imagined a different life—one where Noelle followed me to Australia. One where she kept me sane and balanced throughout all the chaos. We’d lost so much time.

My eyes flew open. I expected Noelle to be gone again. But she wasn’t. She was there. She’d always been there.

Her gaze searched my eyes. Asking for clarity. Asking for answers.

I didn’t have either.

I moved toward her, my hands cupping her face, drawing her near, my thumb skimming her soft earlobe. Her scent, like a meadow of wildflowers, took me back. Her breathy sigh caressed my cheek. Her lower lip quivered.

Her mouth parted, and I kissed her.

She tasted like home and regret and longing.

Draping her arms around my neck, she sagged against my body as if everything that had been keeping her upright, wound tight, functioning, coping just melted away under the fire of my touch.

Tilting her head, I deepened the kiss, the familiarity of her taste flooding my senses with warmth, calming the part of me that had been searching for her ever since I lost her. I wrapped my arms around her and held on as though she might vanish if I loosened my grip. If I did, I might lose her again. I couldn’t survive that twice.

A soft footfall on the stairs broke us apart.

We froze. Forehead to forehead, our breathing ragged, neither of us moved.

Slowly, Noelle pulled away from me. She stepped back, creating a gulf between us and a chill that I felt down to my core.

Her fingertips grazed her lips. Then she turned and left me.

Chapter 15

NOELLE

I couldn’t wait to break out of this prison. I spent the day pacing, lying on the bed staring at the ceiling, hugging myself with a stupid smile on my face, jumping on the mattress, screaming.

The kiss.

I pressed my fingers to my lips for the hundredth time since last night. I wanted to seal the kiss there. Imprint it on my brain. Just in case it was our last.

I threw myself across the bed again and dragged a pillow over my face. The timing couldn’t be worse. We couldn’t rekindle our romance now—even if we wanted to. I’d lose my promotion. Hell, I’d lose my whole job.

We could wait. We waited all these years; a few more months wouldn’t matter.

Struggling to sit up, I tossed the pillow across the room. Did Conor even want to give this another chance? He seemed more upset about someone manipulating us than he did over the actual breakup.

Or did he? I’m the one who broke our connection last night. But if I hadn’t, that kiss would’ve sapped me of all strength and reason.

I had no illusions about the lengths management would pursue to control the narrative of a popstar but giving us false phone numbers for each other seemed a bit draconian—even by Gordon Cooper’s standards.

I yanked my phone from the charger on the nightstand and scrolled through my contacts until I found Charlie. I tamped down my guilty conscience. Conor never had to know I checked his story.

“Alright, luv.”

Charlie’s voice never failed to bring a smile to my face—even as I was crashing out, doubting my feelings, doubting Conor.

“Hey, Charlie. Hope I’m not disturbing you. Do you have a minute?”

“If you make it quick. Dev is in the zone right now, and she’s just about ready to bounce some lyrics off me.”

“I don’t wanna disrupt the zone. I’ll be fast. Do you remember when Five2 went off to Australia for your first big tour?”