Chapter 19
Chapter Nineteen
Sadie
Firework
Katy Perry
Memphis feels different once the tour noise fades.
Two shows back-to-back, then suddenly… nothing.
No crew swarming the hallways, no load-in alarms, no schedule taped to the door.
Just the band, a handful of family, and a three-day bubble the universe somehow granted us between the chaos of life on the road.
And today, today is Larkin’s first birthday. Normally I would have taken advantage of the three-day break and flown home. Would have slept in my own bed, caught up with some friends, did I mention, sleep in my own bed. But Lily asked me to stay, and that was enough for right now.
Lily is glowing the way moms glow when they’re exhausted and happy and trying not to cry at how fast a year goes.
Luc is carrying an absurdly large gift bag that definitely has more tissue paper than actual present, and the rest of the guys are scattered around the suite like big, tattooed bookends to the chaos.
I’m in the corner by the window, camera in hand, because Lily asked me to document the afternoon. And honestly? It’s easier to hide behind the lens than sit with my own thoughts.
Of course, Dean walks in last. He’s wearing a soft black tee and dark jeans and has that freshly-showered smell that hits like a sucker punch when you’re not prepared for it. His hair is pushed back, damp at the ends. He looks good. Like dangerously good.
He doesn’t look at me right away. He goes straight to Larkin, who is sitting in her highchair wearing a sparkly “ONE” crown that she keeps trying to rip off her head.
“Hey, happy birthday baby girl,” Dean murmurs, and his voice goes all warm around the edges in a way that makes something in my chest do a very unprofessional flutter.
Larkin grins at him, gummy and ecstatic, then slaps her hands on the tray.
Dean taps her nose. “You ready for cake?”
She shrieks like yes, obviously.
Lily laughs. “She’s been ready since sunrise.”
Luc wanders over with a tiny cake covered in pink frosting. “Okay, everyone. Cameras out. Phones ready. This little gremlin is about to make a mess that will haunt the housekeeping staff forever.”
I raise my camera. Dean steps back, but only after brushing a bit of hair away from Larkin’s eyes, his fingers impossibly gentle.
It hits me then, like an arrow straight between the ribs, he would’ve been a good dad.
He still could be. He’s only thirty. That thought is reckless, fragile, dangerous. I smother it.
Lily lights the single candle on Larkin’s cake and everyone crowds around the highchair like it’s a national holiday. Mikey gets there first. Of course he does, and he’s practically vibrating with excitement.
“Alright, princess,” he coos to Larkin, leaning down with both elbows on the tray like he’s lecturing royalty. “Today you turn ONE. Which means you are now legally allowed to have cake, chaos, and anything your uncle Mikey buys you on . Which, by the way, will be a lot.”
Lily laughs. “Too much.”
“Impossible,” Mikey replies, bopping Larkin’s nose. “My girl deserves everything.”
Larkin giggles and immediately grabs two fistfuls of his hair, yanking it hard enough to make him yelp. Everyone bursts out laughing as he bends down, letting her drool on him like he’s the world’s proudest jungle gym.
“Well, would you look at that?” Luc murmurs beside me, shaking his head, amused. “Sometimes he’s actually an okay little brother.”
I snort softly. “You’re telling me this giant drummer is the baby of the family?”
“Unfortunately.” Luc sighs. “We spoil him. It’s a problem.”
“Not a problem for her,” I note, nodding toward Larkin, who is now wiping frosting across Mikey’s cheek with the seriousness of a painter at work.
Luc chuckles. “Yeah, she’s got him wrapped around her little finger.”
“I get it,” I admit. “I’ve got a younger sister. Quinn. Total menace but a total sweetheart. I would’ve let her paint frosting on my face too.”
Luc turns to me, eyebrows raised. “Yeah?”
“Yeah,” I admit, a little shy but warmed by the admission. “She’s actually a massive fan. Like, embarrassingly massive. If it’s not weird, could I maybe bring her backstage at the New York show? It would make her entire life.”
Luc doesn’t hesitate. “Done,” he replies immediately. “Text me her info and I’ll put her on the list myself.”
My heart lifts. “Seriously?”
Luc grins. “Sadie, you’re family. And if your sister’s half as cool as you, we’ll be lucky to have her around.”
I try not to blush. I fail, miserably. Before I can respond, Larkin chooses that moment to shriek with joy and smash a fist of cake into Dean’s chest, frosting exploding like a confectionary crime scene.
Dean gasps dramatically, clutching his heart. “She has betrayed me!”
Lily doubles over laughing. Hayden snaps a photo. Luc mutters, “Pathetic,” but he’s smiling. Dean looks down at the streak of frosting and shakes his head. “Great. Perfect. Just what I wanted to wear today.”
Larkin squeals and reaches for him with sticky fingers. And Dean, Dean Ross, king of emotional distance, breaker of hearts, professional runner, leans in so she can pat frosting onto his cheek. And he smiles. Not the smirk. Not the rockstar grin. A real one.
I snap the photo before I can even think. He catches the sound of the shutter. Looks up. Sees me. For a moment something passes between us; something soft, unguarded, impossible to name. My breath catches. Then he looks away. Of course he does.
And me I’m capturing all of it. The joy, the mess, the family they’ve built, all while starting to feel something soft settle under my ribs. Something I didn’t expect. Something I’m not sure I’m ready to name.
Later that night, the band moves up to the roof of the hotel to watch the fireworks over the Mississippi River. It’s humid and breezy, the skyline hazy with heat, the air already carrying faint pops from smaller shows around the city.
Lily went to put Larkin to bed, and Luc followed. Hayden and Mikey ran downstairs to grab more drinks. So somehow, inexplicably, undeniably, I end up alone with him on the rooftop patio.
Dean stands at the railing, hands gripping the metal, forearms tense. His shirt clings to him in the sticky heat. I tell myself I’m looking at the city, not at him. I lie to myself a lot lately.
He glances over, just a flicker. “You don’t have to stand way over there.”
I blink. “Am I?”
He huffs a sound that might be a laugh. “You’re practically in Arkansas.”
I take a few steps closer. Not close enough for him to think I’m trying. But close enough to be polite. The first firework explodes over the river, a red burst that reflects on the water like spilled paint.
Dean tilts his chin up. His profile is sharp against the glow. He says nothing for a minute. Then, quietly, “Thanks for not… making a big deal about what happened.”
My heart stutters. “Dean…”
“No.” His jaw tightens. “Just. Yeah. Thanks.”
I swallow. “You don’t owe me an explanation.”
“I have a feeling you already know more than you should,” he mutters.
Another firework goes off. It’s blue this time, and loud, echoing across the river. Dean flinches, barely. A tiny twitch of his fingers on the railing. He thinks I don’t see it. I do.
“You okay?” I ask softly.
He keeps his eyes on the skyline. “I don’t like when metal falls out of the damn sky, Sadie.”
The breath leaves my lungs. Because that’s as close to admitting the truth as he can manage. “I’m really glad you were there,” I whisper.
He finally looks at me. Really looks. There’s something raw in his eyes, something vulnerable he doesn’t usually let surface. “Yeah,” he nods, voice low. “Me too.” He pauses a moment, then continues. “About the other night-”
I put a hand up to stop him. “Don’t. Let’s just pretend it didn’t happen.”
His brow furrows, lips pressing into a flat line before he speaks again. “That’s not what I want.”
“But you left?” I can’t help the disbelief in my tone.
“I wish I hadn’t.” He looks up at the sky, a long exhale blowing from him before he brings his gaze back to mine. “I thought I was doing the right thing. But if I’m being honest, I’m just not really sure how to do whatever this is we might be doing.”
Before I can respond, fireworks explode in rapid bursts, white, gold, and silver, lighting his face in a way that makes him look young and haunted and impossibly beautiful.
And then, because the universe enjoys chaos, he clears his throat and says, “You ever been to Graceland?”
I blink. “What?”
“Graceland.” He shrugs like this is normal conversation. “Elvis’s mansion.”
“Oh. Um. No.” My brow furrows as I try to figure out where this is headed.
“You should go.”
“Well, yeah.” I nod, noncommittingly. “Maybe? Sometime.”
“With me,” he clarifies, his gaze shifting back to the river. “Tomorrow. I rented a bike.”
Renting a motorcycle. Dean Ross inviting someone on the back. This is not nothing. “You want me to go with you?” I stammer, not sure I heard him correctly.
He doesn’t look at me when he answers. “You’re the only one who’ll sit still long enough to take decent photos of it.”
I bite back a smile. “Right. Work. Of course.”
He finally glances over, a spark of something wicked in his eyes. “And maybe,” he adds, voice dropping just enough to hit me in the knees, “because I want you there.”
Fireworks crack overhead. I forget how to breathe. Before I can reply, Hayden and Mikey come barreling out with drinks and snacks, loud and chaotic, breaking the spell like boys always do.
Dean pushes off the railing, brushing past me just close enough that his arm grazes mine, a whisper of heat along my skin. “Ten a.m.,” he murmurs. “In the lobby.”
Then he’s gone. And I am standing in the glow of fireworks over the Mississippi, heart pounding like a drumline. And for the first time in days, maybe weeks, I let myself whisper into the night, “Oh God, I’m in so much trouble.”