Page 46 of Before You Fell

“Maybe.”

“From Damon or Phoenix?”

“Maybe both.”

His grin appears out of habit, but it fades around the edges. “Are you okay?”

I glance at him. “I’m fine.”

He pushes the exit door open with his shoulder and holds it for me to walk through.

“You know, you can tell Damon to go fuck himself sometimes.”

“I do.”

“Not with enough commitment.”

“Then I’ll add it to tomorrow’s schedule.”

A low laugh escapes him and vanishes into the night. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Songbird.”

Cruz heads toward his car just as my phone rings. Dad’s name lights up the screen.

I answer as I walk toward my car. “Hi, Dad.”

“Willow.” His voice is warm. “Are you busy?”

“No, I’m just leaving the studio.”

“At this hour?”

I unlock my car, but don’t get in just yet. Instead, I stand beside it, my hand on the door handle, the cool night air pressing against my face. “It’s not that late.”

“It is for people who sleep.”

“Good thing I have never claimed to be people.”

He huffs a laugh, but it fades too quickly. “Your mother is worried.”

My body stiffens. “About what?”

“She said you sounded tired when you called yesterday.”

“I was tired yesterday.”

“And what about today?” He asks.

I look back toward the studio, toward the glow seeping from the exit doors and the muffled noise still trapped inside. “I’m fine, Dad.”

Dad goes quiet for a moment. The kind of quiet parents use when deciding how much truth they can say before you hang up on them.

“You know you can come home for a few days,” he says gently. “Let your mom look after you for once. Sleep properly. Eat something that didn’t come out from a paper bag.”

Something hot pushes up behind my ribs and I shut my eyes.

“I am not a child, Dad.”

“I didn’t say you were.”