Page 66 of Fame & Rhythm

Something’s off.

I watch him go, my chest tightening. I want to be near him so badly it hurts, but he’s doing everything he can to stay away.

I glance at Ella. She shrugs, wincing slightly—she obviously feels it too.

“Right, instruments, everyone,” Dad says, breaking the tension.

I huff and strap on my guitar, still tuning as Aston picks up his bass and slings it over his shoulder.

God, I wish I were that bass right now—pressed up against him like that.

Someone clears their throat, and I realize I’ve been staring at Aston’s stomach. I glance up to find Dad watching me. I roll my eyes and go back to tuning, sneaking sideways looks at Aston—who isn’t looking at me at all.

Unease settles in my chest.

Maybe he doesn’t want me anymore.

Maybe Dad scared him off.

Either way, I’m getting nothing from Aston right now except the cold shoulder, and I have no idea how this rehearsal is going to go.

The doorbell rings, and we all look to Dad, waiting to see if he’ll answer it. Instead, his gaze flicks between Aston and me.

“Ella, sweetheart, will you let Chad in, please?”

We all raise our eyebrows.

“But I’m tuning my guitar,” she says.

“You’ve got all day for that. Just go answer the door.” Dad’s tone is sharp.

“Okay, sheesh. Don’t get your panties in a twist.” She unstraps her guitar and heads out.

“Don’t talk to me like that, Ella,” Dad calls after her, obviously still on edge.

I huff quietly. This is definitely about me. About making sure I don’t get anywhere near Aston again.

Not that it matters.

Aston won’t even look at me.

I glance over at him. Nothing. He’s deliberately avoiding me.

This is not how today was supposed to go.

He was meant to walk in, come straight to me, wrap me up in those strong arms… maybe even kiss me again.

Instead, I’m being shut out, and I don’t even know why.

I swallow hard, forcing down the lump in my throat as Chad walks in with Ella. Dad lights up, chatting to him about some new hair wax he’s trying. Chad’s hair looks exactly the same as always—a blond mess, more like a nest. I’ve never met anyone who looks so effortlessly scruffy.

“Okay, now that we’re all here,” Dad says, clapping his hands together. “I can tell you what’s happening today and tonight. We’ll rehearse, and then tonight a band’s pulled out of a three-band lineup, so Rob’s lined up your first live, paid gig…”

“Holy shit!” Caleb and I shout at the same time.

“Seriously?” Ella asks, while Chad stands there, stunned.

I don’t look at Aston.