He smiles, and it’s breathtaking. He radiates sunshine, his whole face lighting up. “Good.”
James reaches into his pocket and pulls out his phone to check the time. My heart races as I watch him type, because my mind leaps to a conclusion that sends a pang of unwarranted jealousy through me.Is he texting a woman?
The thought slices through me, reminding me of Lucas’s lies and deceit, but I shake it off when his gaze meets mine. “I’ve got to get going. I’m meeting the guys for rehearsal,” he says, standing. “But it was really good seeing you, April.”
I have no right to feel jealous or assume he’s seeing someone.
It’s none of my business.
So why does my body react like this around him?
I nod, trying to push the irrational unease aside.
“You too,” I say.
“I’ll text you the details for Friday.”
“Sounds good.”
He smiles softly, and I blurt the words out before I can stop them. “I didn’t want you to leave either.”
He pauses. Fire floods my chest. It takes him a second to understand that I’m referring to his last text, and when it clicks, his features ease. He gives a sharp nod, his hands flexing nervously before turning and walking out, leaving my heart ricocheting around my chest.
I shove my book into my bag and finish my pastry and coffee with jittery hands. Slinging my bag over my shoulder, I head home to get ready for work.
Chapter 22
April
Friday night arrives, and my mind spins as I get ready with the girls. Just as I expected, and as much as I hate to admit it, I’m on edge about seeing James tonight. He sent over the details about when Atlas Veil is starting their set, and we decided to arrive a bit later so we only catch their performance. After Gemma’s disastrous one-night stand last time, she’s in no hurry to arrive early and risk striking up a conversation with any men, only to end up with another dud shag.
“How are you feeling?” Gemma asks as she expertly swipes black liquid eyeliner across her eyelid.
“I’m fine. I don’t know why you keep asking me that,” I reply, twirling an auburn lock around my curling wand. I’m aiming for that clean, effortless look, which, in reality, takes me fucking ages and a boatload of products to achieve.
I rest the wand on the bathroom counter and sip my Brut Rosé champagne. Suddenly, I’m engulfed in a cloud of hairspray. My eyes dart to Anna, who’s spraying the living daylights out of her up-do. Gemma and I cough dramatically.
“Are you right?!” Gemma says, frantically waving her hand in front of her face to swat away the spray.
“My hair sure as shit is—look at this masterpiece,” Anna replies, turning her head side to side as she admires her handiwork. I huff a laugh, going back to styling my hair.
“So, do you think you’ll get a chance to talk to James tonight?” Anna asks casually, adjusting a bobby pin.
“I have no idea what to expect. I guess, if we hang around long enough,” I say, attempting to play it off as if I’m unaffected.
“CUTE!” Gemma squeals. I wince, closing an eye and turning away as her voice pierces the air.
“The other brother,” Anna says longingly, her hand over her heart.
“What?” I reply, caught off guard.
“You want the other brother,” she says matter-of-factly.
“I don’t want anyone.”
“You,” Anna starts, pointing the can of hairspray at me, “are full of shite.”
Thankfully, Gemma shifts the topic as we continue getting ready.
