Page 92 of Fame & Rhythm

I glance back with a smile. “Night. I’m exhausted.”

They all nod, drifting toward the kitchen while I head upstairs, and the grin doesn’t leave my face the entire way to my room. I slip inside, shutting the door behind me, the quiet wrapping around me like a cocoon.

Kicking off my boots, I change into my oversized 12GAUGE-Slayed T-shirt and climb straight into bed, still buzzing from everything that happened today.

God… what a day.

I reach into my nightstand drawer and pull out the picture of Aston and me, settling back against the pillows. The soft purple glow from my lanterns fills the room as I trace the outline of his face with my finger, and my chest tightens in the best way.

The butterflies come rushing back, fluttering wildly as I think about the way he looked at me… the way he kissed me… the way he made me feel.

I press a soft kiss to the photograph, smiling to myself. Carefully, I tuck it under my pillow before snuggling down into the sheets. My eyes drift closed as I let it all wash over me…

The music, the lights, the crowd…

… and him.

Chapter Eighteen

Annie

It’s nearly lunchtime, and Aston hasn’t avoided me once today.

He’s not exactly touchy. Dad’s been watching us like a hawk, but every time Dad turns away, Aston looks at me and smiles.

And every time… I smile back.

I can’t help wondering if he’s thinking about kissing me as much as I’m thinking about kissing him.

Dad’s been running us through feedback from last night. What we did well, what needs work. Apparently, things are about to move quickly for us. Another show tomorrow night and more coming after that.

Then, of course, he slipped in a comment about not letting relationships interfere with the music.

Subtle as a sledgehammer.

I roll my eyes at the jab, but honestly, I can’t see whatever this is between Aston and me disappearing.

“Half-hour break,” Dad announces. “Then we’re back into it.”

We all stretch after sitting for so long, and I glance over at Aston, and he smiles. As everyone shifts around, his hand brushes mine—light and deliberate.

A spark shoots straight through me, and I let out a quiet giggle as he winks.

Dad’s distracted, talking to Caleb.

Perfect.

Time to make a move.

“I’m going to be under the willow tree if anyone needs me,” I say casually. “Got a new song I want to work on.”

No one really listens.

Except Aston.

Who gives the smallest nod.

Message received.