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Even with our audience, it feels good watching a movie in Ethan's arms. It feels like old times. Like when I was happy.

I want to be happy with him again.

But that's a dangerous

thought.

Chapter Seventeen

Violet

In the morning, we check into a hotel in downtown Portland. Once I'm semi-unpacked, I get to studying. There are still question marks about the Dangerous Noise books, but I can't answer any of them until I talk to Mal.

Catching up on my coursework makes this whole tagging along on my rock star ex-boyfriend's tour thing feel almost normal. Studying in a quiet hotel room while Ethan is off playing live on some morning radio show is a lot like studying in Ethan's living room while he's off playing in the soundproofed practice room downstairs.

I work on linear algebra until my brain is jelly then I walk to the Peet's Coffee around the corner, drink tea until my brain is solid, and I study some more.

This—me and my textbook and a steaming hot unsweetened matcha latte—this is where I belong. I don't have to play down my interest in math. I can get as excited over solving problems as I want. I can clap with joy when I figure out a tricky answer. I can chew the ends of my pen when I'm stuck on a problem.

I can let my I love math freak flag fly.

I finish my matcha latte and order another. My stomach growls. It wants food—not pastries, nuts, or candies, actual food—but my brain wants more math first. I spend another two hours finishing my work, then I grab lunch at a taco truck and head back to the hotel.

Mal is in the lobby, greeting a pretty woman with short black hair. One of his fuck buddies, I guess.

He nods hello. She eyes me curiously. After he whispers in her ear, she relaxes and waves me over.

Uh… I'm glad that Mal enjoys his different girl in every town thing (at least that's how Ethan describes it) but I'm not particularly interested in the details. The man is objectively hot— tall, blue eyes, brown hair, ripped arms and chest covered in black ink—but he doesn't stoke my embers. He really feels like an older brother.

"Sharon, this is Violet." Mal shoots her a knowing look. "Ethan's… friend."

"Oh, Violet." She shakes my hand with a friendly smile. "It's nice to finally meet you."

I'm gossip for Mal and his fuck buddy. That's fun.

"Ethan used to talk about you all the time. The poor guy couldn't admit how much he—"

Mal cuts her off. "Vi's helping with the books." He looks to me. "We're gonna be busy for a while, but I want to talk to you about this today. You coming to the show?"

"I can," I say.

"Should only take an hour. You can grab a ride with Sharon." He turns to Sharon. "You don't mind waiting, do you, baby?"

She giggles. "Every time you're in town, it's the same."

The way she's looking at him… I don't need those details. I clear my throat. "Just knock on my door when you're ready." I turn and hightail it to the elevator bank before I have time to get jealous of Mal's ability to separate sex and love.

I mean to go to my room, but my feet are drawn to Ethan's room. My hand is drawn to his door. My heart is drawn to his.

I knock lightly. "It's me."

There are footsteps then he's pulling the door open. "Hey."

"Hey." I shift my messenger bag off my shoulders and drop it on the ground in front of me. That's better. There's less weighing me down.

"You want to come in?" He nods to his mostly clean room.

"I have to catch up on work."

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