Page 41 of Rush
My body stiffens at the mention of Alex’s film. Chad’s face full of smug pride waiting on baited breath for that viral ‘gotcha’ moment.
I glance instinctively at Kylie. She shoots Chad a look sharp enough to slice through the studio lights, then flicks her eyesback to me, her expression tight, unreadable. Is she warning me? Cueing me? I have no idea.
I swallow, praying my answer lands safely. “Chad, I’m about to head out on tour with the amazing Ava Edwards, and between rehearsals and prep I wish I had the time, I’m pretty sure I fell asleep in hair and makeup this morning.”
Chad barks out a laugh. “Well, you look great if I do say so myself.”
“Oh, that’s sweet of you.”
“Now that you’re single can I get your number?” he teases. “Just kidding. No I’m not. Okay, okay—I better behave. Your manager looks like he’s about to kick my chair.”
We all laugh, but the tension simmers just beneath the surface, humming between the cracks in the smiles.
After the interview wraps up, Tamika—the showrunner for theManhattan Wave—ushers us down a short hallway to a small greenroom.
“And now,” she says brightly, clapping his hands together, “we’ve got the winners of Ava Edward’s concert tickets—plus a meet and greet with you.”
She opens the door for me and I walk in seeing four people waiting, lanyards already looped around their necks. A couple of them are wearing Ava’s concert merch.
Two girls—can’t be older than fifteen—hover shoulder-to-shoulder, giddy nerves written all over their faces. A smaller man dressed flamboyantly beams beside them, practically vibrating with excitement. And then there’s a fourth.
A face I recognize…but not quite.
“Hey, guys,” I say as the door closes behind us.
“Elena,” Tamika says, gesturing to them one by one, “this is Shae, Britney, Zini—and Ben. Our competition winners.”
“Congratulations, guys,” I say, smiling. “Are you ready for the show next weekend?”
“Yes,” Shae and Britney gasp in perfect unison, hands flying to their mouths.
Zini snaps his fingers. “Yasss, queen.”
Ben just nods. He keeps his eyes on the floor.
Something about that makes me tilt my head. “Hey,” I say gently. “Do I know you?”
He stiffens—then looks up.
The shift is immediate. His eyes light up bright and hopeful when they meet mine, like I’ve flicked on a switch.
“Um,” he says, clearing his throat. “Your friend Riley was my roommate.”
Oh.
Holy shit.
“The ferret guy,” I blurt before I can stop myself.
A beat—then he laughs, breathy and relieved. “That’s me.”
“That’s right,” I say, warmth flooding back in. “Your ferret friends—Kira, was it?”
“And Dax,” he says quickly. “You remembered.”
“Of course I did. How are those little scamps going?”
A huge grin spreads across his face, unguarded and genuine, and it softens something in my chest.
