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“—and I was the girl you left behind, who got average grades and put on weight and only moved as far as the nearest city—”
“Well, what’s wrong with that?” he demands.
“—and I could never be impressive like you, Dalton. Even if in another universe we did ever…” Nope, I can’t say it.Date.“Well, you know what the press would say. You know what your fans would think. No one would ever believe you picked a girl like me. Someone so ordinary.”
Dalton yanks me to a halt. Hey, when did we start holding hands for real? The foamy waves lick at the edges of our shoes, and a crab scuttles through the surf.
“That is such bullshit, Alba.” The rock star glares down at me, his expression thunderous, and jeez, I’ve never really seen Dalton mad. I’ve seen him pissy and tired and hangry and bored, but never plainangry. It sends shivers up my spine, but not because I’m afraid of him.
Because I’m kinda… excited. He really cares that much? Whew.
“Why do you care what they all think?” he says. “Newsflash: people suck. What are you gonna do—let the worst, judgiest people out there rule your whole life?”
The night air is so warm. Sweat trickles down my spine.
I guess he’d know. Dalton has made his share of headlines, with everything from suspected love affairs and break ups to drug use rumors and rehabs. How much of it is true? Does it even matter?Shouldit?
Dalton takes my shoulders and shakes me gently. “They’ve told every lie about me they could think of, Alba.” Huh. I guess I knew that deep down, because drugs aren’t Dalton’s style. He used to get buzzed eating strawberry laces in his basement, jangling from the sugar rush. “You think I’d mind them linkingus?” he says. “I’d be honored. I’d cut the articles out and hang them on my wall.”
I snort, but I’m off balance. This is all so much to take in, and it’s like one of my late night heartbreak daydreams—the ones I use to lull myself to sleep. The telenovela that plays every night in my brain, where Dalton hunts me down and declares his undying love.
Except this isreal, and I can’t make sense of it. The salt air mists my cheeks. “You’d hang them on your tour bus wall?”
“Nope.” Dalton grins. “I bought a house here, up on the cliffs. I’m staying in Sweet Cherry Cove, Alba.”
He is? Since when do rock stars settle down in small towns?
“Oh, wow.” I can barely afford rent for the apartment I share with three other girls, but then, as Dalton pointed out, heisfabulously rich. He could probably buy a fancy penthouse apartment or a mansion or whatever. And he’s settling down here instead, in this small town by the sea? “You’re so grown up.”
His cheek dimples. I resist the urge to poke it. “I know, right? I have reading glasses and everything. There’s a fully equipped first aid kit in my bathroom cabinet, and I have a favored brand of shaving cream, and I’m in bed by midnight every night. This is therealrock star lifestyle, Hernandez.”
“That is so sexy.”
The tips of his ears turn pink.
“Well, it’s ready and waiting for you,” Dalton says, turning away to stroll beside the water, and his tone is airy but his words thump me square in the chest. I stumble after him, face numb.
Does he mean that? What if the wedding invitation wasn’t a joke? What if I turned down the love of my life and called his proposal a sick prank? Gah!
We haven’t seen each other for eight years. We’ve been completely out of contact for three.
It would be insane to even consider this. Wouldn’t it?
* * *
“Home, sweet home.” Dalton pushes my hotel room door wide, and tosses the keys onto the bed. I trudge inside, sprinkling sand on the rug, but he stays behind in the doorway. I turn back, bemused.
He’s so handsome, leaning against the wooden door frame, hands in those jean pockets. His smile is wry.
“You don’t want to…?” I gesture at the bed, then realize what I’ve implied and burst into flames. I meanthang out, like we used to, lying side by side fully clothed in his teenage bedroom, talking about everything and nothing while we listened to whatever new playlist he’d made.
But if Dalton notices my humiliation, he doesn’t tease me for it. He shrugs one shoulder. “You’re beat, Hernandez. If you yawn one more time, your face will get stuck that way—and that would be a crying shame for humanity.”
More flirting?Oof.
Well, this whole evening has been one long blush. What’s one more? I press my lips together and fight a smile.
“Besides.” Dalton’s lopsided grin breaks my heart. Iache. “Maybe I’m hoping that you’ll stay for a few more days. Have you booked a flight back yet?”
