Jameson’s gaze flicked between Daisy and Amelia, like he’d been cornered. He hesitated, clearly wanting to stay, but Daisy kept her stare fixed on him until he finally looked back.
“Please?” Amelia pouted.
He hesitantly answered, “I am hungry. But only if your mum says it’s okay.”
“She does!” Amelia answered for Daisy, grinning. “Right, Mom?”
Daisy’s stomach twisted. Everything in her screamednot here, not yet. Their apartment was sacred. The thought ofJameson in her home, in her space, unsettled her. But Amelia’s excitement was impossible to fight, and Jameson’s restraint, waiting for her word, not daring to assume, pressed in on her. Daisy realized she wasn’t agreeing for him. She was agreeing for Amelia.
Daisy was so lost in thought that she didn’t even realize that the two of them had stopped, until she ran into Jameson’s shoulder.
“Mom…” Amelia urged her for an answer.
Daisy blinked once at Jameson and mumbled, “Sure.” Then she kept walking toward the apartment in silence.
Amelia, however, couldn’t keep quiet. “So, from one to ten, how famous are you?”
Jameson hesitated. “Probably a five or six.”
Daisy scoffed under her breath. He was easily a nine, maybe even a ten. She had avoided anything to do with him or the band for nearly a decade, and he still managed to slip through: his voice on the radio, his face on TV, his name in the glossy pages of her favorite magazines. His modesty was humbling, but it was also completely wrong.
“That’s pretty cool. I’ve never met anyone famous before,” Amelia said, eyes shining.
“Yes,” Jameson admitted, “it can be cool but also overwhelming. Especially when people find out who you are and start following you.”
“Like the paparazzi?”
“Them, or just people who forget basic decency. They see the spotlight and forget that, apart from my voice, I’m just a normal person.”
There it was again.Normal.
Daisy lingered on the word. Why did he cling to it so tightly? Maybe because he craved it. A life where he could walk down thestreet without ducking under a cap, where he could sit in a park without drawing stares.
A shiver ran through her as they reached her complex. She opened the door to let Amelia dart inside. Jameson caught the door from her, waiting until she stepped through before following. With Amelia already out of sight, the two of them climbed the stairs in quiet parallel.
“If this isn’t okay,” Jameson said softly, “just say the word and I’ll go.”
“I don’t know if it is,” Daisy admitted. “But Amelia seems to like you, so I guess I’ll just have to deal.”
“This will be good, Daisy. I promise.”
“I won’t hold my breath,” she muttered under hers, low enough that he couldn’t hear.
Inside, Amelia wasted no time pulling ingredients from the cabinets and fridge, more excited than ever for her mother’s pancakes.
“You’re going to love these, Jameson,” she said with a grin. “They’re so good.”
Jameson dropped onto a stool at the kitchen island. “Are they anything like Dena’s?”
Daisy washed her hands and gave him a sidelong glance. “Identical. It’s her recipe.”
Amelia slid onto the stool beside him, chin propped on her hands, watching her mother work like it was magic.
“You know my Nani?”
Jameson gently gulped. “Uhh, I did. A long time ago. She was the best cook around.”
“She still is. What was your favorite?”
