“Make sure he gets home okay,” I tell Brennan as he helps Luke into the car they’re sharing. Luke is still mumbling the chorus of“Party in the USA” like it’s the national anthem.
I slip my jacket on, still feeling the ache in my cheeks from smiling and laughing so much tonight.
It’s been fun. More than fun, really. It’s one of the best nights I’ve ever had—the kind that makes me forget why I made rules in the first place.
“You wanna get in? There’s room,” Brennan says, his hand on the handle of the open door.
“No, thanks,” I tell him. “I can walk it. I only live ten minutes away.”
“You’re sure?” he asks, his voice slurred.
“Promise,” I say with a smile. “Just get that one home.” I tip my head toward Luke, still singing in the back seat.
I turn around and Oliver is standing behind me, like he’s waiting for me.
“I’ll walk you,” he says, zipping up his jacket like this isn’t a discussion.
“You don’t have to—”
“I’m aware,” he says simply. “I want to. You’re not walking alone.”
The words are simple. They’re not showy or performative. There’s no hero complex. He’s just steady, protective.
I like it.
I nod. “Okay.”
It’s cold, like it would be in December, but it’s not bitter. The streets are mostly empty—the only sounds are the faint chatter from inside the bars and the echo of our footsteps.
Neither of us speaks at first. It’s not awkward, there’s just no rush to fill the silence. It’s comfortable, like we’ve done this a hundred times before.
He’s got his hands tucked into his pockets, and he keeps glancing over at me. I need to say something. I need to fill the silence, otherwise he’s going to hear my heart thundering in my chest.
“Thanks for walking me,” I say softly.
“Always.” He looks over and meets my eyes. That one word feels like a promise.
“I didn’t know you could sing like that,” he says after a moment.
I laugh a little. “It was just karaoke.”
“No.” He shakes his head. “That wasn’t just karaoke, Addison. That was real. You felt that. It was… moving.”
I glance over and his eyes are already waiting for me. There’s no banter, no teasing. Just genuine awe.
It wrecks me.
Because until I locked eyes with him on that stage, I had no idea what song I was going to sing. I looked at him, made a snap decision, and just let it out. I could blame the alcohol, but I know I didn’t have enough.
“Thank you,” I say, my voice quiet.
“I mean it, Addie. You were brilliant.”
He grins, boyish and sweet, and my chest practically explodes. I fight the urge to brush it off, because I feel seen. Really seen. Not just as the woman who flew across the pond to run press conferences and manage brands, but as Addison.Addie.
I don’t even just want him to keep seeing me that way—I want to show him more of it. Every unpolished part of me.
But then, in a far back corner of my brain, a voice screams about the rules. It screams about Matt, reminding me of what happened before, and why I have these rules in the first place. But then I see Oliver, and he looks at me like there’s no one else in the world, and I just don’t care.
