I can feel you here so that’s why I stick around.
Please let me in, let me explain myself,
I didn’t run from love, I ran to save myself.
We were friends to lovers that’s how it went,
You were my friend to lover oh what a summer we spent.
She closed her eyes and let the rest of the song wash over her. When she opened her eyes, their faces were close. Close enough to feel his breath. He didn’t move. Neither did she.
“Why?” she breathed, finally.
“Because I never stopped,” he said simply. No poetry now, just truth. His hand slid over hers on the cushion, warm and careful. He didn’t pull her in. He didn’t kiss her. He just held her hand like it meant something.
Because it did.
The next day in her studio, Daisy stood in front of a blank canvas, thinking back to the night before. How had she gone from tears over her breakup with Matt, to warmth and tenderness listening to Jameson’s voice?
She decided it was all a big mistake she refused to repeat, not the confession or the song or the hand in hers, but the cliff she could see herself leaping from. She wouldn’t let the heat of him set fire to what they were building for Amelia. Or for themselves.
Resolved, she started to brush the canvas with deep lines, when suddenly her phone vibrated. She ignored it the first time, focused on her art before she heard it again.
She wiped her hands and checked the screen. The school.
Why are they calling?
“Hello—this is Daisy Daniels.”
“Hi, Ms. Daniels. This is LeAnne MacArthur, principal at Amelia’s school. Amelia is safe, but we need you here immediately. There is a situation.”
Daisy was already grabbing her keys. “What happened?”
“There are photographers outside. They’re calling your daughter by name, saying she’s the child of someone famous… Jameson Kingston.”
Daisy stopped cold. Her stomach dropped. They knew.
“Is she okay?”
“A little shaken, but fine. When you arrive, please come to the front office.”
“I’m on my way.”
She dialed Jameson as she flew down the stairs.
“Hey,darl—”
“They know,” she said, voice shaking. “The press. They’re at the school.”
Silence, then movement on his end. “I’m coming. Don’t go in without me.”
“I’m not waiting—”
“Daisy, please. You’ll be swarmed. Meet me at the corner store. Ten minutes.”
“James—” The line clicked dead.
Every muscle in her body screamed to drive straight to the school, but Jameson was right, so she drove toward the store. He arrived five minutes later and ushered her into the SUV. Barry was there, plus two more men in black.
