Chapter 19
“What the actual fuck was that, Harry?”
Surprisingly, this isn’t coming from me. Darcy is the one who seems to be leaning into rage now that we’re back in the green room.
Harry’s expression is indignant, and he hangs his hands on his hips as she gets in his face. “It was a kiss, Darcy. Do you really need me to explain the mechanics of it to you?”
“No, I need you to explain what the hell you were thinking,” she shouts, shoving a hand against his chest.
Harry scoffs, stepping around her and heading to the food table where Kale is already munching, watching the scene with a bored expression.
“I was thinking, huh, that was a really class set and my fake girlfriend did a great job and looks rather fit so I think I’m gonna go ahead and give her a quick kiss.
A kiss that you weren’t remotely involved in, I feel I should add, since you’re having an extreme emotional reaction here. ”
“I think everyone should take a breather…” Kevin says, but his voice is drowned out by Darcy’s next argument as she stalks toward Harry.
“You didn’t ask Cubby or run it by her. That was so messed up.”
“Have you been living in a cave, Darcy? We’ve literally all kissed each other. There’s like, a complete lack of any boundaries when it comes to touching each other in this fecking group.”
“I’ve never kissed any of you,” Skull says from the corner, Deja perched on his lap.
“Looking to change that now, are ya, Skull?” Harry says back with a wink.
Skull looks him up and down. “I could do worse, but I’m set, thank you.”
“Would you all shut up?” Darcy yells. “What you did out there is not the same as us hugging or kissing each other’s cheeks or whatever. That was onstage. That was public. You were using Cubby.”
“As if you aren’t all fucking using me,” I snap, my voice echoing across the room. Everyone goes silent, slowly turning to look at me.
Darcy’s face shifts from outrage to devastation. “Cubby … What?”
She steps toward me, but I back away, shaking my head. “All of this—this tour, this album, the social media clout—it’s all because you’ve used me. And Harry, for what it’s worth.”
“Exactly,” Harry says with a smug smile.
“Don’t you dare pretend we’re on the same team here,” I say, turning on him, fingers curled into fists at my sides. “I’m not happy with you either. Just because we’re both pawns in this stupid game doesn’t mean you can’t be as guilty as they are. What you did out there was fucked up.”
His face falls, lips parting as he stares at me. “Cubby … I-I’m sorry. I got caught up in the moment. I—”
“I’m not really interested in your excuses. We’ll talk about this just the two of us later,” I say through gritted teeth, a sharp throb traveling down my jaw.
“But why are you exploding on me?” Darcy says, blue eyes wide with hurt and confusion. “I mean … us,” she corrects, gesturing at the rest of the group. Kale rolls his eyes.
“Jesus. It’s like…” I throw my hands up, searching for the right words. “Get off your high horse, Darcy. Did Harry take things too far tonight? Yes. But it’s not like I didn’t see the writing on the wall. Honestly, I’m surprised Sigrún hasn’t asked for something like this sooner.”
“Well, part of the allure of this whole thing was that nothing was confirmed or denied,” Kevin chimes in. “The mystique and element of the unknown really contributed to the frenzy.”
“Thank you, Kevin. That was so incredibly helpful right now,” Harry says.
“My point is, Darcy,” I say, temper still rising as I glare at her. The anger feels good. Justified. Way easier than any other feelings I’ve had toward her lately. “You don’t get to be angry at Harry on my behalf when you’re also benefiting from this whole thing.”
Darcy flinches like I slapped her. “And you don’t get to tell me how to feel.”
“I would really love it if we could move on from the hysterics,” Kale says, stretching out on the couch. “I’m exhausted.”
“Yes, please, everyone. Let’s make sure we’re prioritizing Kale’s comfort.”
“As if you don’t center yourself in literally every fight,” Kale shoots back. He keeps me humble, I’ll give him that.
“I’m out of here,” Darcy says, ducking her head and furiously brushing at her cheeks as she darts toward the door, slamming it behind her.
I have the impulse to chase after her, but I lock it back, anger still pulsing hot and raw through me.
I’m done chasing after her like a pathetic puppy. Harry grabs my wrist, and I jump.
“Sorry. Sorry,” he says, letting me go and raising his hands in front of him. “I’m sorry. Touching you was probably not the right move at this point.”
I frown at him. “Glad to know you have at least one brain cell left.” My eyes dart back to the closed door. I hate that I wish she’d walk back through it.
“She’ll be okay,” Harry says. I give him a look, and he raises his hands again. “I have a feeling asking to talk this through right now might not be a winning idea either?”
I arch an eyebrow. “Depends on what talking it through means.”
Harry’s face softens in earnestness. “I want to apologize to you properly. Can we go somewhere? Just the two of us?”
I stare into Harry’s pleading eyes, then glance at the door once more, feeling like I’m being split in two. “Yeah, fine. Let’s go outside.”
We exit out the back of the building, the Cleveland night dark and humid. A light is on in the bus, and I’m assuming that’s where Darcy escaped to. Opting to give her space, I lean against the side of the bus, Harry doing the same.
“I’m sorry,” he says, turning to look at me, sincerity etched across his face. “I should never have done that so publicly without talking to you. I just—” He sucks in a breath, staring at the concrete as he rakes his hands through his hair.
“What?” I nudge his shoulder with mine.
He looks at me. “I got caught up in the moment. I’m an idiot.”
My lips purse as I resist the impulse to smile. “You are an idiot.”
His face falls, and he tilts his head down and to the side. I stare at him for a moment, my eyes tracing his handsome features, the lines of worry bracketing his mouth that’s usually tipped up in a smile. I reach out, wrapping him in a hug.
“But you’re my idiot,” I whisper into his shoulder, his arms circling my waist, holding me tight. “And I forgive you.”
We stay like that for a few minutes, swaying slightly to the sounds of the city as we hold on to each other in the dark.
I breathe him in, familiar and safe and warm.
With Darcy and I fighting again, he feels like the only one I have left.
My constant, steady anchor. There’s something so bright and special about the way Harry moves through the world, and I have a gnawing impulse to cling to him like he’s a shield.
“Love ya, Cub,” he whispers against the crown of my head.
We’ve said this before, many times over our years of friendship, but something about his voice sounds …
different. An undercurrent of intimacy that didn’t used to be there.
My heart picks up speed, gentle heat blooming across my cheeks as I realize something about it sounds …
good. Clearing my throat, I pull away, pushing the back of my spinning head to the side of the bus, blinking up at the stars.
“Have you checked on the outcome of the frenzy you created?” I ask, not looking at him. “Or is throwing gasoline on the fire and running more your style?”
He chuckles, his elbow brushing my upper arm as he fishes out his phone. I’m not sure why my skin tingles on the spot. “You know I prefer the latter, but I’ll check it out for you.”
“I’m sure I have a few death threats waiting in my inbox.”
Harry’s eyes shoot wide in horror. “What?”
I try to laugh past the tiny bubbles of anxiety popping in my gut. “Yeah, I get some real winners in my DMs. Telling me I should off myself or that they hope I get hit by a car.”
“For what?” Harry says.
“I dunno. Breaking Connor’s heart, apparently. Toying with yours. The block button is my new best friend.”
“Cubby…” Harry’s voice is low, filled with worry.
I wave my hands, wanting to swipe away the dark cloud I created. “It’s fine. Seriously. Don’t worry.”
Harry gives me a bland look. “Ah, yes, just like that, all my worry is gone.”
“It’s only because you’re so bloody handsome,” I say, trying to steer things to playful. I tickle my fingers into the spot below his ribs and he squeals. “Everyone foaming at the mouth for ya.”
Harry grabs my hand, caging it against his hip so I can’t move it. “Right. Because you’re so hard to look at.”
I scrunch up my nose, sticking my tongue out at him.
Harry’s smile is wide, and his eyes flick to my mouth, pausing there before traveling back up.
He lets go of my hand, and we press our backs flat against the bus again, a weird chord of tension buzzing between us.
He clears his throat and scrolls through his phone.
“Well, my notifications are absolutely blowing up if that’s any indication of the kiss’s impact.”
“From Kristen Stewart and Dylan Meyer on the red carpet to Britney and Madonna at the VMAs, where does our impact rank?”
“Rachel McAdams and Ryan Gosling re-creating The Notebook kiss at the MTV Movie Awards,” he says, pocketing his phone again and grinning.
I let out a sigh. “We are too powerful. Guess I’ll have to pretend kiss my pretend boyfriend at a few more shows moving forward if we want this career to last us the rest of the summer.
” I expect Harry to laugh, say something silly or teasing.
But he goes silent. I can’t read this silence, why it’s so heavy and loaded.
Unease skitters across the back of my neck.
“What if we didn’t pretend?” he whispers.
I jump, pivoting my entire body to look at him like he screamed the words at me. “What do you mean? Call it off?”
He shakes his head, color creeping up his cheeks as one side of his mouth notches up in a bashful smile. “No. We keep doing what we’re doing. But what if it isn’t pretend?”