Passengers spilled down the escalator, one after another, and still no Jameson.
They were finally coming home. Daisy stood with Rebecca, Margot, and Charlie, all of them jittery with the same nervous energy. It had been a long eight weeks, filled with short phone calls and even shorter messages. Daisy understood that they were insanely busy, she really did, but some nights frustration flared before she could coax herself back into being the steady girlfriend he needed. Needless to say, it hadn’t been easy.
“There he is!” Margot squeezed Daisy’s arm and pointed.
Jameson’s hair was longer; somehow, he looked taller. As they drew closer, their parents closed the distance between them and clutched onto their sons. Daisy lingered back, giving them space. Jameson looked over his mother’s head and found Daisy with a helpless, aching smile. He had missed her just as much; he longed to have her back in his arms. Once Margot let go, Jameson bolted to Daisy, picking her up from where she stood, spinning her around.
“I’m so sorry,” he blurted.
“Hello to you, too.” She laughed, brow lifting. “Why sorry?”
“I barely called. When I did, I’d completely miss you. We were slammed—but I’ll make it up to you.” He looked almost frantic.
She cradled his face. “I told you I understood. I meant it. I’m not mad. I just missed you. I’m happy you’re home.”
“Me too,darlin’.”
They ate a quick dinner at Charlie and Rebecca’s, then Jameson drove Daisy home. After hellos to her parents and hanging out with Sean for a while, they slipped into the studio.
“There are loads of new pieces in here,” he said, spinning slowly.
“I had to do something to keep my mind off of missing you,” she said, grinning.
He wrapped his arms around her waist and kissed her, but there was a weight under the kiss she could feel. She pulled back. “What is it, Jameson?”
He nuzzled into her neck. “We’re going on tour next year—with Ace Monroe.”
Daisy gently grabbed the sides of his face. “Ace Monroe! That’s wonderful news!”
He half-smiled, then the worry flickered back.
“Are you not excited?” Daisy asked. Ace Monroe was huge. This could catapult them.
“I am. It’s a small tour… but a long one.”
“How long?”
Jameson waited a beat before he answered, “Five months. It’s his North American tour.”
Daisy knew what he was really asking: Will we be okay? She also knew she had time—time to brace, to continue growing the roots that hold when someone you love is far away. “I want you to be excited,” she said. “Will I miss you? Yes. But this is your dream and I support you. One hundred percent.”
“You have no idea how much I needed to hear that.”
Daisy laced their fingers. “It’s huge, Jameson—now I want you to tell me everything about LA.”
His smirk returned. “I was thinking we could do something else before we talk.”
Daisy quickly caught on to his suggestive tone.
She arched a knowing brow, lifting the hem of her shirt just enough to flash black lace. “And what did you have in mind?”
“You’re gonna kill me, Daisy,” he murmured, laughter in his voice as they tipped back into each other, the studio once again their small, perfect world.
Chapter Ten
Daisy, Age 17
JUNIOR YEAR.
