“I hate you,” she mutters before snatching the MP3 player out of my hands and putting both earbuds in her ears.
And then—there she is. My Nova. Dancing in the rain, soaking wet, laughing, alive.
She tosses me her hair tie, lets her long braid unravel into wet, heavy waves. I can’t stop staring. She’s radiant. She’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen in my whole life.
She turns toward me to throw one of her diva looks before fully slipping into “Beyoncé mode.” That’s what she called it.
The people around us thin out as the rain pours harder and harder. A clap of thunder makes me flinch, but I freeze the moment my eyes fall back on her. She’s started imitating the choreography from the music video, whispering the lyrics underher breath, and for the first time in months, I catch the flicker of a real smile. She’s actually having fun.
I start clapping along to the beat of a song I can’t even hear, and she blows me a kiss.
Rain runs down her body, soaking her hair, her face, her clothes. She’s drenched from head to toe and still moves in the middle of the sidewalk like a diva—awkward, maybe, but a real diva.
She may not be a star dancer, but watching her move to the music is mesmerizing. You can tell she’s having fun—especially when she helps Maggie rehearse choreography for the videos she posts on YouTube.
Sam once offered to help her with managing the channel, and she dropped one of her heels right on his foot.
Nova’s so beautiful when she moves. She looks like a butterfly about to take off into freedom. And she’s sexy as hell. I don’t think I’ve ever been this drawn to a girl before. Every time she looks me in the eye with that gaze of hers, my heart somersaults—and the fabric of my jeans suddenly feels tighter.
She keeps moving, almost slipping on the wet ground, but she catches herself with one arm and does a bridge right there on the sidewalk before bursting into laughter and collapsing flat on her back.
Maybe it’s a strange way to grieve, to deal with heartbreak, and to block out all the personal mess she’s carrying—but Nova’s different. Her quirks are what make her soul the most beautiful one in the world.
When the song ends, she gets up and walks over to me, tugging on the collar of my shirt. Her lock on my lips, and mine on hers.
We keep looking at each other while the rain keep running down our bodies. Her eyes are glossy, brimming with tears, and she pulls back the moment a clap of thunder startles us both.
I clear my throat. “Uh... I... wow.”
“Yes?” she murmurs, quickly wiping away the mix of tears and raindrops on her face.
I nod. “You hungry now?”
“A little bit.”
“Okay.”
I take her hand, and she laces her fingers through mine. The rain doesn’t let up as we walk toward Roxy’s, the café with the best cheesecake in the city—second only to White & Cream. I don’t think either of us wants to buy cakes from Steven right now, especially not together.
Every time the three of us are in the same room, there’s this strange feeling I can’t shake, and I don’t want Steven to get the wrong idea. Nothing will happen between us.
“What are we doing?” she asks, stopping in front of the café.
I glance down at our joined hands, then pull mine back as if I’d just been shocked.
“I don’t know,” I mumble, looking everywhere but at her.
Nova opens her mouth to say something, but she’s silenced by a faint meow. The rain is pouring, cars rushing past, but she still hears it—coming from the alley beside the café.
We both head toward the sound.
The alley is dark, littered with trash bins. Rain pours relentlessly, thunder cracking above. Next to a dumpster, there’s an open cardboard box, and the meowing’s coming from inside.
Nova gives me a confused look before slowly walking over. She kneels down and, when she peeks inside, she immediately turns back to me with tear-filled eyes.
“It’s just a stupid stray cat. Nothing important.”
A stupid stray cat? Nova just called a cat stupid? What the hell...?
