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She huffs. “That’s not fair.”
“You get to see her in person when not many other people do. Isn’t that even better than on the TV?” Justice asks.
She contemplates that for a long moment, a dainty finger tapping her chin. “I guess.”
“That’s my smart girl.”
“How about we have that hair-braiding date soon? Maybe this weekend when Noah’s sister comes to visit us?” I offer, hoping to steer her away from the current topic.
When her eyes light up, I know I’ve succeeded.
“Yes, please!”
I glance up at Noah, and my stomach swoops when he kisses the side of my head. It’s the closest thing to approval I’ll get, and it’s even better than words. I’m such a sucker for him that it’s almost embarrassing.
“Well, now that that’s settled, what do you say we go back to the bus and make some lunch?” Justice asks his daughter. She’s quick to approve of the idea, and then he turns to us. “You guys coming?”
“Please. I’m starving,” I groan. Noah nods in agreement.
Reggie claps his hands a single time, drawing our attention. “You guys get out of here, then. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Do you want to come?” Noah’s deep voice cuts through the room, surprising Reggie enough that his eyes flare wide.
My heart throbs. It takes everything in me not to kiss the fuck out of my guy and tell him that I’m proud of him for taking such a giant step. A couple of months ago, he never would have offered to spend time outside of the studio with Reggie.
“Are you sure?” Reggie asks. He runs a hand over his silver hair. Noah’s reply is a stiff nod. “I’d like that, then.”
“I hope you’re into cold cuts, beer, and frozen yogurt, Reg, ’cause that’s about all we got unless Tiny shares her premade meals. Wouldn’t recommend those, though,” Justice says as he starts leading us out of the studio.
“I’ll live.”
Noah and I leave Reggie to lock up the studio but slow our pace behind Justice. I grab Noah’s hand and thread our fingers. He drifts a thumb across my knuckles, back and forth, back and forth.
“Paisley says you have a crush on me,” I tell him once we step outside.
“She’s seven.”
“But is she wrong?”
“Yes.”
I scoff in disbelief. “Right.”
“I’ve never had a crush on you. That term is worthless in comparison to what I feel.”
My chest tightens, a sudden warmth growing beneath my skin. “Do you have a term of your own that’s more fitting, then?”
I’m fishing. I can’t help it. When you grow up hearing your parents say I love you to each other multiple times a day . . . to think of a life without those words is a bit harder to comprehend. I’m realizing that it’s not the words that are important and more the actions that say what you don’t hear, but it's going to take some time to not yearn for them still, even if we’re not at that stage yet. I’m too unsure of the depth of my own feelings to be considering these things, but I can’t seem to help it.
“Not yet.”
That’s better than a no.
Reggie’s footsteps follow behind us down the sidewalk to where the bus sits at the end of the road. It’s hotter than Satan’s ass crack in Vegas today, and it takes less than a minute for my neck to grow damp and my hair to frizz. We’ve been in several beautiful places so far on this tour, but Vegas is not on my favourites list. Not only is it disgustingly hot, but it’s also far too busy for those of us who love a boring, quiet night from time to time. I think Noah has pulled out handfuls of his hair already, and we’ve only been here for two days.
“Garrison never told me why you insisted on staying in the bus instead of a hotel while you were here. I can’t imagine it’s been very luxurious. A hotel would have been a nice break for a couple of days,” Reggie mutters, coming up on Noah’s side. “I would have made sure you got a room at the Bellagio or something.”
“Wasn’t necessary,” Noah grunts.
