Laura laughs softly. “Yeah, I bet they were, but that's because it's not their reality 24/7. You have a larger-than-life father who loves louder than most. It must be exhausting.”
“It is.” I squeeze her hand. “I just want to be seen for my accomplishments, and I worry that's impossible when I have the same passion as my father.”
“I get it, Scotty. Not the reality TV stuff. That sounds like a nightmare on its own, but I get it.” She takes a deep breath. “I know what it's like to feel invisible next to someone else’s accomplishments.”
“What do you mean?”
“My sister. Noelle.” She pauses. “She's a…” She hesitates for a second by closing her eyes and biting her bottom lip before finally saying, “an Olympic gold medalist.”
“She is?” I ask, surprised.
Her lips press together before she says, “Yeah. She won gold with the US at the last games.”
I sit up straighter. “Wait, seriously?”
Fuck. How the hell did I not know this?
Her shoulders slump. “Yeah. So while I'm over here playing dress-up and singing to five-year-olds, she's literally the best in the world at what she does.”
Fuck, and I bet my reaction hasn’t helped her feel any better about it either. Frankly, I don’t care who the fuck her sister is. I think she’s amazing.
“Laura—”
“My parents were at her gold medal ceremony in Vancouver. Front row, crying, so proud they could barely speak. When I got my first role in high school—the granny inInto the Woods—they couldn't make it because they were at one of Noelle's training camps.” Her voice is quiet but steady. “They sent flowers. With a card that said, 'Break a leg, honey!' It was just a small part, and my sister is changing the world. I shouldn’t be upset, and it’s nothing compared to what you have to deal with, but it still makes me sad sometimes.”
I turn to face her fully. “You know that's bullshit, right?”
She laughs, but it's bitter. “Is it though? She's an Olympic champion. I'm a party princess.”
“You're an artist. You make kids believe in magic. You have a voice that makes people forget how to breathe. You're working your ass off to achieve your dreams, even when your family doesn't support you. There are so many amazing things about you, Laura.”
Shit. I went too far.
Laura shifts and lets out a nervous laugh. “Sorry. I didn't mean to make that about me. You came here upset, and I just…hijacked it.”
“Don’t apologize for letting me see you, Laura. It’s what I wanted.” I interlink our fingers, holding her gaze. “I didn't come here to dump everythingat your feet and have you sit pretty and nod.” My thumb brushes across her knuckles. “I came here because…when I'm around you, it feels like I'm allowed to be myself. Not just my father's legacy.”
Her hand tightens in mine. It’s a small gesture, but when she looks at me like she finally sees me, talking feels too small for everything sitting between us.
She leans in a little, her gaze dropping to my lips, and I want to kiss her so fucking badly.
I stop myself. Instead, I study her face, counting the freckles across her nose as I try to memorize every aspect of it.
Her eyes narrow. “Stop staring. It’s weird.”
I laugh softly and let my eyes drop to our hands.
“Sorry. You’re…impossible not to look at.” I meet her eyes again. “Whenever you’re around, suddenly it feels like you’re the only thing I can see.”
She takes a sharp breath. “You can't just say things like that.”
“Why not? It's true.”
“Because—” Her voice breaks. “Because I don't know what to do with it,” she whispers. “Withyou. With the way you say things like they can’t possibly be wrong, and you’ve already decided I’m… worth choosing when you barely know me.”
“I’m not saying I know everything about you,” I murmur. “I just know I want to be here. With you. But the way you react to it makes me think no one ever chose you first.”
“Because they haven’t.” Her eyes flick up, almost pleading. “I'm not used to being someone’s first thought, Scotty. Or the place they come when they're hurting. I'm usually the one people go toafter—after the celebration, after the big moment, after the real star takes a bow.” She lets out a shaky breath. “So when you look at me like that and say things like that… it feels like I'm standing somewhere I've never been, and I don't know if I'm supposed to move or run or just—” She swallows, her breath softening as her hair falls across her face. “—fall into it.”
