Page 179 of Knot Their Starlet

I bite back a choked sob, the burn of tears behind my eyes growing overwhelming.

“Oh, Starlight,” Beck murmurs, making his way to me and crouching beside me, his hand rubbing soothing circles on my back as I face the door.

My hand trembles as I lift it. I rub at the tension in my chest, trying to get it to disappear.

I shift, my socks sliding against the hardwood floor as I turn to view the room from about the height of the last marker.

I blink, taking in the sitting room, the hallway towards the rest of the house, and the peek I can see into his office.

A flash of a memory: standing in front of this door, jumping with excitement.

“Happy birthday, Andi.” My dad’s voice.

“This—this last one,” I say, stumbling to my feet. “It was from my birthday, right?”

“The last one we spent together, yes,” Edison says softly. The lack of volume doesn’t hide the slight tremble in his words. “You remember, then?”

“I—I didn’t, but now—now I do.”

“I’m glad. Welcome home, Andi.”

CHAPTER 36

Andi

“Would you like some coffee?” Edison offers, clearing his throat. “Ah, actually, it’s a bit late for coffee. Tea then?”

“Sure, tea would be great,” I answer, clinging to the normal offer to keep my mind from spiraling further.

The sun is starting to set, shining through the windows that look out over the city. The light makes the buildings I can see twinkle.

He guides the six of us through the house, pointing the occasional thing out to us.

As we pass his office, a flicker of a memory presses at the back of my mind.

“Did I—did I used to watch you work in there?” I ask, my feet rooted to the floor.

There’s a half-finished edit on the large monitor that’s practically a flat-screen TV in its own right on his desk.

“Yes, you did,” Edison says, a fond smile on his face. “You were always so curious. You asked excellent questions, even though you were so young.”

The walls along the living room and to the kitchen are covered in framed stills from films. His films.

He gets started on brewing tea in the kitchen while I stare, soaking everything in.

“Please, sit,” Edison says to my guys, gesturing to the couches in the living room next to the kitchen.

I guess it makes sense that a house this big would have multiple living rooms.

“So, should we run through introductions?” Edison asks as the tea brews, seating himself in one of the recliners. There are a pair of reading glasses on the glass table beside it.

The guys all glance at each other before nodding, offering Edison a range of expressions from smiles to simple nods.

“I guess I can start us off. I’m Edison Wade, Andi’s father,” he says, beaming at me with so much pride it strikes me dumb. Has my mom ever looked at me like that? Called herself my mother with that much joy? “I’m a filmmaker and videographer.”

“I’m Beck.”

“Eli.”