Page 30 of Before You Fell

Phoenix holds the last note of the song until it frays at the edge.

For one beautiful, terrible second, it is a song that sits between us.

My words. His voice. The ugliest thing he did to me, dressed up well enough for everyone else to call it art.

Damon lets out a breath. “That is exactly what this album needs.”

Of course it is. Trust Damon to hear my chest crack open and call it good production.

Inside the booth, Phoenix takes off his headphones. His eyes meet mine through the glass and my fingers curl around the edge of my notebook before I can stop them.

“I need a minute,” I say, standing up from the couch, notebook tucked against my ribs. I walk out into the hallway before anyone can say anything.

The door shuts behind me, sealing off the room.

For half a second, the hallway is quiet. Then the door opens again and Phoenix walks out.

“That song’s fucking incredible,” he says, moving toward me. “You always could do that.”

He stops in front of me and stands too close. Close enough for his heat to get under my skin.

“Do what?” I ask.

His eyes stay locked on mine. “Take the ugly shit and make it sound honest.”

And there he is. Not the cocky fucker with girls hanging off him. Just the boy I grew up with before fame put its hands all over him.

“Don’t do that,” I say.

“Do what?”

“Talk to me like you remember who you were.”

His eyes drop to the notebook pressed against my chest. “I remember enough.”

I almost laugh. It would hurt less than wanting to believe him.

“No,” I say. “You remember when it gets you something.”

His gaze lifts and he steps closer. Just enough to make my stupid body notice.

His fingers brush my arm and every nerve under my skin reacts before my pride can tell it to fuck off.

“Wills,” he says.

“Don’t.”

His brows draw together. “Don’t what?”

“This.” I gesture between us, forcing his hand away before it can make me forget how angry I am. “Look at me like you remember who I am, then walk away and be him again.”

His mouth goes hard. “Him.”

“Yes. Him.” My voice cuts sharper than I expect, but it’s good. Let it cut. “The asshole with women reaching for his cock. The one who pretends I’m just part of the band when it suits him. Not after everything, Phoenix.”

Something moves behind his eyes. It’s fast, but then Phoenix does best what he always does to cover the wound, with a smirk.

“You sound jealous, Wills.”