Risky Rockstar: A Hero Club Novel, стр. 46
I smile at the delivery guy as he brings a cheerful yellow bucket along with some orange and red daffodils that look remarkably like the ones I have tattooed on my hip to my door. I can tell he recognizes me, but he doesn’t say anything and blushes furiously when I tip him generously. I sign for the delivery and head back inside. Placing my goodies on the half-moon table by the door, I pluck the card from the flowers. Warmth fills my belly, and a grin just about wraps around my face as I read the note.
I know today has been a clusterfuck for you.
I hope this helps.
Kade.
My stomach cartwheels in my abdomen, and I hug the card to my chest, wishing Kade were here so I could squeeze him hard. After the kiss at the pier, I was concerned things between us would be strained despite how cool he was about the whole situation. But he’s been great. True to his word, we’ve been focusing on the music. He hasn’t mentioned the kiss, and it’s almost like it never happened. I can’t be disappointed; this is what I wanted—time to get my head on straight—and yet I find myself wondering if Kade thinks about our moment on the pier. Even a little.
I wrap my fingers around the cool ribbon and tug the cellophane free. The first thing I see is the bottle of merlot from Vezer, and the smile that is already painful spreads wider. He remembered what wine I was drinking the night we wrote together and rescued Kevin. Quickly, my fingers pull item after item out the bucket. A turquoise sheet-music notebook with the words “The Beautiful Thoughts of a Beautiful Mind” embossed on the front in silver. A vanilla-scented candle with a sticker of a hand flipping the bird and the words “Keep your Head High and Your Middle Finger Higher,” a glitter clutch pencil. Almond extract handmade soap, a Snickers bar, and lip balm.
A bubble of joy starts settling in my chest, and I can’t stop grinning. On the bottom of the bucket is a note in Kade’s handwriting, and God help me but it feels like a swarm of hummingbirds have taken flight in my stomach.
Dear Hayley.
I think this bucket pretty much annihilated my man-card but hopefully my explanation for why I chose each item will help.
The notebook is self-explanatory; you fucking amaze me with everything you create. Channel everything you’re feeling now and turn your pain into something beautiful. It will help you heal.
The glittery clutch pencil: Do you know how painful splinters in your gums will be? No judgment—okay, maybe some judgment ;-) but I had to do something.
The candle is self-explanatory too ;-)
The hand soap is to help you wash your troubles away. I blame Pinterest for this one.
The Snickers—because laughter is the best medicine. Again, fucking Pinterest.
The cotton candy lip balm is selfishly for me. I want you to remember our kiss because fuck knows I’ll never be able to forget it.
I hope that’s okay to say and I hope this bucket of sunshine helps.
Kade
That tiny bubble of joy explodes like fireworks all over my body, and laughter spills from my lips. I feel like a teenager with her first crush, but remind myself that I need to stay in check. I meant what I said to Kade—I can’t afford to get swept away right now. With everything that happened the last few months—with Ethan and the baby—I realize I haven’t processed anything. I’ve just been burying it and distracting myself from it with Kevin. This thing with Kade could be real, and wonderful, and everything. I don’t want to blow it, even if there is only a remote chance.
I pick the lip balm off the table and look at the label. Cotton Candy. I swear if I don’t stop smiling, I’m going to strain my facial muscles. I might not be able to get swept away, but I can allow myself the memories.
Popping off the lid, I swipe the balm over my lips, losing myself in the memory of Kade’s kiss. I wish I was losing myself in the memory of more than a kiss, but I’m not ready to go there yet. I’m not worried that Kade is a risk.
I’m worried I am.
Chapter 21
Kade
Four Months Later…
“What did I tell you?” I interlock my fingers behind my head and lean back against the pillows.
Keller nods back at me from my laptop screen. “She’s good. Really good.”
I mirror his nod. “The other two files are just as incredible. I don’t know how she does it, but she’s punching these out in record time while she’s on tour.”
I turn the volume down on my iPad so Hayley’s voice plays quietly in the background and revel in how fucking incredible it is. We’ve been working on the latest album together. How we’ve managed to write almost five songs already when we’re six thousand miles apart is testament to how incredible Hayley is, and how strong our musical connection is. There’s more than a musical connection though. Hayley and I have spent hours chatting about everything in our lives. Some really heavy shit. She opened up to me about her niece’s leukemia, her miscarriage, and the abusive relationship she was in with Ethan. It made me damn near violent to hear how he treated her. I, in turn, told her about losing my dad, my mom’s suicide, and Pops. I even told her about Emily—well, not everything. I can’t tell her it was my fault because I can barely look