Chapter 11
Nix
S econd date. She wants to go on a second date. My pursuit wasn't what most would consider normal, but who cares? It worked. She wants to see me again. That knowledge is everything.
This is the happiest I've been since finding music.
She brings that same level of excitement to my life that the drums did when I first started, and I can't wait to see her again.
What can I say? When I find something, or in this case someone, I enjoy, I have a tendency to go all in.
Maybe that's what prompts me to text her now, rather than waiting, because I'm not typically this impulsive.
Me: Thank you for taking a chance on me tonight.
Me: I can't wait to see you again.
I stare at the phone screen, wondering if I went a little too far with the second text.
Shit. See, this is why things work better when they're in a controlled environment.
Should I send another text saying ‘If you still want to’?
Two messages is borderline annoying, right?
I don't want to fuck this up, and for some reason, I feel like if I sent a third message, it would fuck everything up.
My Sparrow: You waited a whole month to talk to me, and now you can barely wait twenty minutes to text me.
Well, that's not what I thought she was going to say. She has a habit of surprising me. I’m just a little excited that it went so well.
I almost choked when she asked if I was stalking her.
It wasn't like I was planning on kidnapping her or anything. The only reason I was watching was to learn about her and her schedule. It was harmless. I’m just glad tonight went so well.
My Sparrow: I'm totally kidding. I had a great time.
My Sparrow: And that kiss was amazing. It's late, though. I'm ready to pass out. Talk tomorrow?
Oh, thank fuck. She’s still interested.
Me: Get some rest. I'll give you a call tomorrow.
Me: Goodnight.
My heart practically skips out of my chest as I click the lock button on my phone and set it on my lap. My eyes fall closed for the rest of the ride back to my apartment. I am at peace, even through the sounds of the cars whizzing through traffic.
When we pull up to the building, I glance out the window, happy to see there is only one photographer staking out the place. With a sigh, I remove what's left of my makeshift disguise and push open the car door.
As annoying as this can be, sometimes I decide the photographer deserves to have a good photo.
Today is this one’s lucky day. My feet move quickly as I smile and wave, giving her the happy, curated image of Nix Peters that everyone wants to see.
I know the person behind the camera is only doing a job.
It’s usually why I comply, but now that Alara’s a factor, that might all change.
My rockstar status is going to further complicate things. Right now, we have time to ourselves, but as soon as the vultures find out about her, they will eat her alive, digging and digging until they know every morsel of who she is.
Thinking about it when I step out of sight and turn into the elevator is infuriating. She doesn’t deserve to have anyone potentially invade her privacy, but there's no way for me to control that narrative, no matter how much I want to. They will take whatever they can and run with it.
Maybe I’ll talk with the guys and see if they have any advice. The likelihood of them being helpful is probably low, but who freaking knows. Maybe we can hire a PR team and full-time security to protect her. You can't say I'm not dedicated.
When the elevator finally dings at our floor, I find myself hoping nobody will be around. It was a good night, and I don’t want it ruined. With any luck, everyone will already be in for the night, and nobody will ask questions about where I snuck off to.
Who knows where Ender ended up after I left earlier?
Part of me feels guilty that I haven't been tagging along with him on his outings, but he doesn't need me there.
Most of the time, he pretends I don't exist. Ender really does what Ender wants to do at the end of every day.
My being there isn't going to stop any of that.
Not even seconds after I open the door, a noise from the kitchen catches my attention. Lane is there, grabbing a few things. He's got a tray with what looks like a sandwich on a plate and a mug full of liquid.
"Where have you been?" he asks.
Questions. I knew there would be questions. It's late, and I don't want to deal with his sarcastic comments. I’m actually surprised he’s awake and alone. River has been glued to his side for the last month, so I half expect him to come waltzing down the hallway any time now .
"Are you ignoring me?" he tries. "Being an asshole is usually Ender’s thing."
"You don’t need my exact whereabouts." I give in just like he wants.
"He speaks."
"Lane, I’m not in the mood." I roll my eyes.
"What's going on with you? You haven't been around, and you've got no sense of humor. Also, who knows what Ender's been up to now that you’re not keeping an eye on him as closely."
"It's not my job to keep tabs on him. That's what security is paid to do." I huff.
"You're just not being you."
"That's where you're wrong. I'm being 'me' for the first time. I'm just no longer allowing everyone else's problems to be my own. Contrary to popular belief, I don't want to babysit all of you." I push past him, reaching into one of the cabinets to grab a glass so I can take some water to bed.
A grin spreads across Lane's face. "What's her name?"
"Leave me alone." I take a sip of my newly filled cup. "I'm going to bed. Go bug one of the other guys."
"Wait," he calls out, making me stop.
I turn to glance over my shoulder just as he finishes messing with whatever’s on the tray he was preparing.
"I'm worried about River. The nightmares are getting more frequent. "
"Is he stressed about something? You two are doing okay, right?" I try not to accuse him of anything specific.
I know they're together. That's sort of unspoken, but if River is stressed or anxious about something that happened between the two of them, it could factor in.
"We're solid. We haven't been more connected, actually." Lane's face softens as though he's remembering something.
"Do you think he's stressing about Glen or the two of you going public at some point?"
"Could be, but I don’t think that’s it. I don't know what to do, man." He rubs his arms.
"Maybe just talk to him."
"Wow." Lane slow claps. "Amazing advice. Talk about it. I never thought about that."
"Look who's being an asshole now." I roll my eyes.
"Fuck. I know. I'm sorry." He shakes his head. "Riv doesn't want to talk to me. I've tried. Maybe if..." He trails off, and I know exactly what he's alluding to.
"I'll talk to him." I sigh.
"Thanks, Nix."
"No problem." Fixing things is kind of what I do , I think. "I'll see you in the morning."
I turn, taking a few steps toward my room with the glass of water in hand, when I hear Lane say one last thing. "I hope she's making you happy."
She does. She definitely does.