Chapter 8 Mabel
MABEL
“I’m sorry.”
Instead of following Sav toward the dressing rooms, I slow to a stop and turn to face Aurora. I thought I’d have to hunt her down, but she came to me. I arch a brow, and she lets out a cute little huff of laughter.
“I am sorry,” she insists. “I didn’t mean to eavesdrop.”
I nod slowly. “I was wondering if you heard anything.”
“Not a whole lot. I think it was just the end bit—just a few words—and not enough to really know anything. I just wanted to tell you that. I didn’t hear a lot, and I didn’t try to. I just want you to know that.”
I lean my shoulder on the wall and watch her expression as she rambles.
The worry I feel of being overheard is dulled by just how entertaining I find her.
She really, truly has no poker face, and it makes her far too fun to play with.
She wears every emotion on her lips, in her eyes, in the rise and fall of her brows and cheeks, in the tightening of her jaw and the quiver of her chin.
And that blush? It’s so fucking cute. It makes me want to draw more from her.
To make her feel everything so I can observe the way it transforms her expression.
It takes effort to keep myself from teasing her even now.
“You didn’t do anything wrong. You have no reason to apologize.”
“But...When you saw me, you looked so...Angry? Concerned, I guess? I don’t know. I just...I just want to make sure it’s not because of me, or that I’m at least not adding to it. Whatever it is.”
“I’m not angry with you,” I reassure, then I lean in a little closer. “I would like to know exactly what you heard, though.”
She drops her gaze to the floor. “I heard Sav say something about how you deserve to be a priority...”
She pauses and brings her eyes back to meet mine.
“And...?” I press, noting how her brows slant as she whispers her next words.
“And...I heard you say she can’t right now.” Her eyes bounce between mine. “Were you talking about your girlfriend?”
The question feels wrong, for some reason, and I hesitate to answer.
Maybe it’s the hint of disappointment I hear laced throughout her curiosity. Maybe it’s the loyalty I feel toward Kat. Or maybe it’s something else. Something being stirred up inside my chest by those wide, hazel green eyes and that pretty face that reads like a flashing neon sign.
I don’t want to think about it, so I smirk and deflect.
“More personal questions, Roar?”
Her flush deepens, and she drops her eyes to the floor again.
This time, though, it’s not from shyness, and I immediately feel terrible.
Teasing is one thing, but causing her to feel shame or regret?
That’s the opposite of what I want to do.
Even before she can open her mouth to apologize again, I rush to fix it.
“Hey, I was just kidding. You didn’t do anything wrong. I’m sorry.”
She blinks a few times, her hand reaching to grasp the pendant of her necklace as she tries to collect herself. Then she forces a breathy laugh before looking at me through her lashes.
“So you can apologize, but I can’t?”
I smile. “The last thing I want to do is make you uncomfortable, Aurora. You didn’t do anything wrong, so if something I said made you doubt that, then I’m sorry for it.”
“You didn’t.”
I tilt my head to the side. “Foundation of truth, remember?”
She sighs. “Okay, fine, you did. But I deserved it.”
“Hard disagree.” I lean back against the wall and scan her face again. The flush is fading, but the little lines between her eyebrows are still present. “It’s instinctual for you, isn’t it?”
“What is?”
“Apologizing.”
Her mouth pops open, and I wait as she visibly struggles for a response. When her mouth closes again, I take it she’s decided not to respond at all. I also take it that I was correct, so I change the subject.
“Yes, Sav was talking about my girlfriend. You’ll meet her in Auckland.” I pause as something dawns on me. “Actually, have you signed an NDA? Most everyone has to, but I don’t know if you’re exempt since you’re related to the boss.”
“Oh, no. I mean, yes. I mean, I have signed the non-disclosure. No way Uncle Wade would break protocol on my account. He’s far too professional. Everything by the book and all that.”
“True. But Ham’s been known to bend a few rules from time to time.”
She smiles knowingly, and it makes me wonder what rules he’s bent for her. I almost ask, but she speaks up, and I file the question away for a later conversation.
“I’d never share anything with the tabloids or anything like that. I respect the band’s privacy. You don’t have to worry about me.”
“Good to know.”
Aurora’s brow furrows. Her next statement comes out slow and curious, prodding for information. She’d make a terrible spy.
“I actually had no idea you were dating anyone.”
“It’s not public knowledge.”
“Why not?”
“My girlfriend’s a very private person. She prefers that we keep our relationship out of the public eye.”
“Do you?”
“Do I what?”
“You said that’s what she prefers. Do you prefer it also?”
I’m taken aback for a moment, and I almost deflect again, but something about the genuine interest in those wide eyes pulls an answer from me instead.
“It’s not what I prefer, actually. I like privacy, yeah, but I don’t like having to hide my relationship from everyone.”
“So why do you do it?”
I break our eye contact, fixing my attention over her shoulder on the cinderblock wall across the wide hallway. I sigh and shrug.
“Relationships require compromise.”
My gaze returns to her when she gives me a quiet, almost sad laugh.
“Yeah. Yeah, I guess sometimes they do.”
When she looks at me again, those hazel green irises penetrate in a way that makes me feel exposed, but not in a bad way.
In a way that almost resembles relief. I hear the understanding in her voice, see it in the crease of her brow and the slight downturn of her pouty lips. I see sorrow there, too.
I want to ask how she understands. Why? I want to ask her about her own love life, about who she’s compromised for, but I bite my tongue. I want to ask, but I don’t think I want to know. Not yet.
“Well, I agree with Sav.”
Aurora’s words come out hushed, so I keep my voice low when I respond.
“About what?”
She sucks her lower lip between her teeth, then releases it slowly, turning it a darker pink and glistening with her saliva. On impulse, I wet my own lower lip, then lock my eyes with hers again.
“You deserve to be a priority. And if your girlfriend wanted to, she would.”
My heart thuds hard into my rib cage as my breath catches in my throat.
My lips part, but no words come. I don’t know when we got so close, but I can see every fleck of green and gold in her irises.
A bit of blue, too. Her lashes are long and dark blonde.
When she blinks, they flutter against her curtain bangs.
There’s a single freckle just beneath her left eye.
When she exhales, her breath feathers across my cheeks.
She’d be taller than me if I weren’t wearing these platforms. Taller than Sav, but shorter than Kat. Aurora might be the perfect height, actually.
Goose bumps rise on the back of my neck and over my arms. I find myself wanting to lean even closer. To see how we’d fit if I closed the distance entirely. But then something down the hall crashes, and we both jump to look toward the noise.
“A ladder,” I say, shaking my head to clear the fog. “Someone dropped a ladder.”
My pulse is still thrumming rapidly, my nipples are peaked against my tight white shirt, and I try not to think about how easily I could have kissed her.
She’s Hammond’s niece, I remind myself. And Kat.
I’m in love with Kat.
I kick off the wall and head to the dressing room, changing the subject to something safe.
“Where will you be watching the show?”
Aurora falls in step beside me, her bare arm just an inch from brushing up against mine.
“Uncle Wade has me in the VIP tent.”
“Are you excited?”
“Yeah. It’s been a long time since I’ve been to a concert. It’s been a long time since I’ve done much of anything fun, actually.” She laughs and flashes a glance at me. “The last time I heard live music was when I was sixteen. My parents took me to see The Hometown Heartless in Phoenix.”
“Jesus,” I say on a surprised exhale. “I forgot what a baby you are.”
Sixteen.
Aurora saw us in concert when she was sixteen years old. It’s like a bucket of cold water over my head.
When I was sixteen, I was already on the run.
That was the year I met Sav. We were living in Nashville and working as buskers and pickpockets for this guy named Oscar.
He taught us how to play instruments, and for a while, he kept a roof over our heads and food in our stomachs, but the guy was an asshole who made a living off scared, vulnerable kids.
Fuck, that feels like a lifetime ago.
Sixteen.
“I’m not a baby,” Aurora says, pulling me from my thoughts. “I’m twenty-three.”
We stop outside the dressing room door, and I turn to face her.
“Trust me, compared to me, you’re basically a toddler.”
Her brows slant and her eyes narrow. “You’re not that much older than me.”
I smile, but I don’t argue. “Are you coming in?”
She shakes her head and gestures down the hall. “I have to meet up with my uncle.”
“Well, if I don’t see you before the show, I’ll look for you in the VIP.”
She nods. “Okay. See you later.”
As Aurora walks away, I can’t ignore the strange pull in my chest. One that almost wants to follow her. It’s been a long time since I’ve done much of anything fun, she’d said. She looks so small in this large hallway. She looks so alone. I hate being alone.
Before I think better of it, I call after her.
“Hey, Aurora.” The skirt of her dress flares out as she spins around to face me. “Want to do something after?”
Her brows jump. “Like what?”
I shrug and pull a suggestion out of thin air, but as it leaves my mouth, it sounds like the best idea I’ve ever had.