Page 165 of Fame & Rhythm

Footsteps sound in the doorway.

I look up slowly.

Aston.

He stands there, watching me, his expression tight, like he’s carrying something heavy.

I wipe at my cheeks, trying to pull myself together, but it’s useless.

That pull between us… it’s still there. Strong as ever. And for a second, I want to get up. Cross the room. Hold onto him like nothing’s changed.

But I don’t move.

“Are you okay?” he asks quietly.

I let out a hollow breath and shake my head. “Like you care,” I say, the words coming out sharper than I mean them to.

He scoffs, frustration flashing across his face, and throws his hands up before turning to leave.

Panic spikes through me.

I don’t want him to leave.

“Aston, wait,” I call.

He pauses, then turns back, one brow lifting.

“Can you… just sit with me for a bit?” I ask quietly.

Something in his expression softens. His shoulders drop slightly, and after a second, he nods. Each step he takes toward me makes my heart beat faster. Being near him again… it does something to me. Something I haven’t felt in a long time.

He pulls out the chair beside me and sits. I rest my hands on the table, and to my surprise, he reaches over and takes one of them in his. The contact sends a warmth through me I wasn’t expecting.

“It’s no wonder my parents didn’t want me,” I murmur.

His brows knit together immediately. “Why would you say that?”

My throat tightens. “Because I keep screwing everything up.”

He shifts closer, letting go of my hand only to wrap his arm around my shoulders, pulling me in. “You’re not a screw-up,” he says quietly. “You made a mistake. There’s a difference.”

I sniff, looking up at him. He’s close, too close, and for a second, everything else fades. The way he smells, the way he looks at me… it pulls me in without trying.

My gaze drops briefly to his lips before I force myself to look away.

Amber. The reminder hits hard.

“Did you go out and get wasted because of me and Amber?” he asks, his voice softer now.

I don’t answer.

I can’t.

He exhales slowly, pulling me a little closer. “I’m sorry I hurt you, Annie. But you hurt me, too.”

“I know,” I whisper. I glance back up at him, and the look in his eyes… it’s the same one he used to give me before everything fell apart. Memories flicker through my mind, us, before. The way he used to look at me, touch me, make me feel like I mattered.

God, I miss that.