Page 22 of The Sound Between Us
“Yeah. I guess.”
He watches me, thoughtful. I don’t owe him anything. Except maybe dry clothes. But the words come anyway.
“My mum died. Two years ago.” I swallow. “I wasn’t living at home, not really. Except at the end. And after... well, my dad got this thing about guilt. He hadn’t been around a huge amount. He’s been trying to make up for it ever since.”
I nod toward the house like it explains everything.
He stares out the window. “My mum feels guilty and sends a belated birthday card.”
Our eyes meet.
“I’d rather the card,” I say. “At least that feels honest.”
He chuckles, and it’s not mocking. “You’re saying that to a millionaire pop star.”
Our smiles match. For once. And it’s sort of sickening.
“Don’t you feel too old to be a pop star?”
“I’ll let you know when I turn thirty.”
He won’t. We both know that. We won’t see each other again. And it stings.
I reach for the handle. “Thanks for the ri—”
But then he lifts a hand. Fingers threading lightly through a strand of my hair.
It’s the softest touch. Barely there. And still - it floors me. “I made a really stupid New Year’s resolution,” he says, voice a breath.
My throat tightens. “That’s nice.”
“Otherwise... I think I’d be asking if I could kiss you.”
The breath leaves my body like I’ve been punched. “Whoa,” I echo. “Who said anything about kissing?”
He grins.
I grin.
Which is alarming.
“So if I did ask, you’d say no?”
“Damn right.” My voice is shaky. “Do you always ask?”
His eyes warm. “I think for you... I would.”
I bite the inside of my cheek so I don’t say dumb shit. Like ask me anyway.
“Nice to meet you, Harrison Carter.”
“Nice to meet you, Serendipity.”
He says my name like he’s tasted it. And it makes him smile. A real one. Slow. Soft.
I step out of the car and head to the door. Try to keep my spine straight. Try not to smile like an idiot.
I fail.
And that’s how I know I’m in trouble.
Because I want to see him again.
And wanting things, wanting people, is how you get destroyed.
I should know.
I learned it from the best.
