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I lift up on my toes, checking out that corner of the venue.
“Are you avoiding Finley?” Maybe they’re fighting.
She glares at me. “No.”
“Is it one of her employees?”
Finley brought some of the new camp hires—a couple of chefs, a counselor, and some kind of scientist helping with the wilderness-themed camps coming up this summer. She thought a trip to the city, including Luke’s show, would be a good team-building event. Plus Oliver wanted to meet them. Hopefully he won’t scare them away.
I eyeball the new recruits, trying to decipher why Taylor would want to avoid any of them. My gaze comes to a halt on a vaguely familiar face in the group standing right next to Finley.
“Hey. Who’s the big guy?” I point. He’s even bigger than Archer, his broad shoulders taking up more space than two Finleys, and he’s at least a head taller than the rest of the room.
She grabs my arm and jerks me back behind the wall and out of view. “Could you be any more obvious?”
I bite my lip to keep from laughing. She will definitely murder me if I laugh in her face. “Is he an ex-boyfriend?”
“No,” she snaps.
“Do you wish he was?”
She groans and covers her face.
I rub my hands together. “It must be something juicy if you’re willing to spend extra minutes with me just to avoid him.”
She almost laughs, the sound bubbling up in her throat, but then she cuts off the sound with a cough. “Ugh. You are the literal worst.” Straightening, she stalks past me down the side of the stage.
I chuckle as Taylor disappears into a crowd of people on the opposite side of the room from where Finley is standing with her crew.
As curious as I am to know the answer to this little mystery, I have something more important to take care of right now.
I find Luke in the greenroom, sitting on a wooden bench, his legs propped up on a chair while he plays his guitar and hums, warming up his voice.
“Hey, you.” I lean against the door frame.
He grins, his whole face lighting up when our eyes meet.
I love his smile. I love watching him play his guitar. I love watching him, period.
He sets his guitar to the side and opens his arms.
That’s all the invitation I need. I sit on his lap, perching on his leg and wrapping my hands around his neck.
Our mouths meet in a move that’s become second nature over the past month. His warm palm rubs up my leg while his tongue strokes against mine. The world disappears. I’m no longer worried about Taylor or the upcoming tour. It’s just me and Luke and our shared breaths.
After a long minute, we break apart and his nose brushes mine. “You made it.”
“Of course I made it.” I promised I would give him a kiss before his show, before every show I can, to commemorate our first kiss.
If I have the choice, I’ll kiss him every day for the rest of our lives.
“Are you ready for this?” I ask.
He blows out a breath and winces. “As ready as I’m ever going to be.”
“I’ll be in the front row.”
His hands move up to cup my face, his eyes searching mine. “Mindy, I love you. With you in my corner, I could face a coliseum full of people.”
I relax in his grip, knowing he will always catch me, safe in his easy acceptance. We’ve only begun piecing together the notes to our song, and while I don’t know what the final chord will be, these first key melodies, ones of love and understanding, will get us through even the shakiest of verses. “I love you, too, so much.”
The End
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