Wild Star: Under the Stars Book 3

by Raleigh Ruebins

  “I really don’t think so,” Grey said, leaning back, a concerned look growing over his face.

  Just then the waitress came, plopping down our guacamole sampler and chips on the table. She slowly explained the different intricacies of each different guacamole, down to where the different avocados were sourced.

  “How is everything, guys?” she said finally. “You enjoying the margaritas?”

  “Love ‘em,” I said, shooting her a warm smile, but silently hoping she would leave us to talk.

  “So glad to hear it. I’ll be out with your meals in just a little while.”

  “Thank you,” I said, and as she slipped away, the live music began playing, a sort of country-rock band that I was surprised to find myself enjoying.

  “Grey,” I said softly, leaning over the table toward him.

  “I’m sorry,” he said, finally meeting my eyes, looking up at me from under his long lashes. He was so beautiful in that moment—in the low lighting of the restaurant, his features looked so delicate and gorgeous that for a moment I couldn’t even believe I was with him.

  “You don’t need to apologize,” I said. “I understand. It’s a really big thing to ask. I want you to come with me so much, though. I’ve never…” I trailed off.

  A moment passed.

  “You’ve never what?” Grey asked.

  “Uh. I don’t know,” I said, stumbling over my words.

  “Just tell me, Adam. You can tell me whatever you want.”

  “It sounds stupid, but I was just gonna say I’ve just never been with someone that I wanted my friends to meet so badly.”

  The smile that broke out over Grey’s face flooded me with warmth. He went from looking shellshocked to looking happy in about two seconds flat, and it took everything in me not to lean over the table and kiss him right then and there.

  “You’re serious?” he said.

  “I am totally serious.”

  His smile only got bigger and I could see his cheeks redden as his lashes pointed downward toward the table. “God, Chandler Price, though? How could I even begin to fit in at one of his parties? Isn’t it gonna be like, celebrities galore?”

  I shook my head. “I don’t think so. Not this time, at least. I talked to him earlier and he said it’ll be smaller and more intimate. All the 5*Star guys will be there, though.”

  “Wow,” he said, meeting my eyes again. He took in a deep breath, then another sip of his drink. I watched as a bead of condensation rolled off the glass and down the delicate skin of his wrist. “I just… can’t help but feel like I’m not… worth it,” he said, eyeing me.

  “Worth it? Worth what?”

  “Y’know… going to a party like that. Like if you showed up with me next to you… people would wonder why you weren’t with someone hotter, older, better….”

  “Jesus Christ, Grey, are you nuts?”

  “Huh?”

  I sighed, trying not to act like I was angry at him, but I really couldn’t believe he would be saying something like that. “I’ve been sitting here trying to talk myself down from telling you how incredibly gorgeous you are tonight, Grey,” I said. “You’re amazing. And I know you might not see it like I do, but it’s true.”

  He was silent for a moment.

  “You don’t need to tell me your decision tonight. But think about it. The party is in two weeks, so it would probably be good if I got the tickets in the next few days. It’s up to you though. Completely.”

  He nodded, and I let the conversation drop for the time being. I certainly didn’t want to pressure him, but I could tell that the only reason he was hesitant to go was because of his worry about the cost. But since being in Fox Hollow, I’d had so few expenses that I’d actually saved up a relatively modest amount, enough to cover a second plane ticket. And the more I thought about it, the more I wanted him to be there with me. I wanted some of my oldest friends to meet Grey.

  Our food came out a while later, and it was nothing short of fantastic—everything fresh and well-made, from the seared steak, to simple mashed potatoes, to corn with herbed butter. We promptly devoured the food and watched from our booth as people slowly started to file out in front of the stage where the band was playing, dancing and swaying to the music. We ordered another round of margaritas, and I slowly began to feel the alcohol loosening my nerves, rounding out the edges.

  It only made Grey look more beautiful to me. My eyes were drawn to him like magnets and it was honestly a little bit alarming how I couldn’t keep my eyes off him. Looking at him made me feel warmer inside, like if I caught his eye I remembered everything that was good about my life. He clearly enjoyed the food more than he let on, and it was strangely comforting knowing that I’d been able to take him out and show him a special evening.

  I nodded toward the dancing couples in front of the band. “I love that people are dancing,” I said.

  “I know, it’s so cute,” Grey said, twisting in his seat to look.

  “Come out there and dance with me,” I said, putting an arm under the table to rest against his knee.

  He shook his head emphatically. “No. No way. I don’t dance, dude.”

  I smiled at him, watching as he chugged a big sip of margarita. “C’mon, dude,” I said. “There’s plenty of people out there. The lighting is super dim. Nobody’s gonna see you or make fun of you or care at all.”

  Grey craned his neck around, looking at the people dancing, assessing the situation. “God, that is so not something I would usually do. I mean, I listen to mostly angry punk music, not… whatever this is….”

  “Doesn’t matter. I think you’d be perfectly good at dancing to this, and I think you’re going to,” I said, slowly snaking up out of the booth and crossing over to his side. I held out my hand.

  “Come on,” I said.

  He shook his head, eyes glimmering up at me, cheeks already turning pink. But I saw the beginnings of a smile on his face, so I knew I had to seize the opportunity while I still could.

  He took another big swig of his drink. “You know you want to do it, Grey,” I said with a goofy smile. “Just one song. For me. Darlin’,” I said in a country drawl, like the singer was saying in the song.

  He took a big breath in, giving one last glance to the people dancing. “Oh goddamnit, fine,” he said, getting out of his seat. “You better make it worth my while.” He grinned at me, and I could tell he was starting to feel the margaritas as well.

  “Of course,” I said. We went out to where the other couples were crowding and I took Grey’s waist in my hands. As I looked around I realized there was no one demographic to the crowd—now there were young people and elderly, people dancing with small kids for fun, a pair of women with short hair dancing in each other’s arms.

  Grey still seemed sheepish.

  “Just like this,” I said, swaying in time with the music, and I leaned in a little closer to him. “You got it,” I said.

  We moved to the beat, soft and steady, just blending into the crowd and occasionally smiling at the other people dancing nearby. I led for most of the dance, but as we went on Grey got more confident, too, and seemed to loosen up. I expected that as soon as the song ended, he’d break away and want to go sit down again—but as one song wound down and another began, I was shocked to find that he stayed right where he was, in my arms.

  He leaned in close to me, and for a second I thought he might have been moving in for a kiss—which would have really shocked me—but he was just leaning up to talk to me. “This feels nice,” he murmured in my ear.

  I nodded. “It really does.” I stayed closer to him, just enjoying the feeling of our bodies next to each other out there dancing to the music. It was strange to think that this was such an intimate moment, considering that Grey and I had done much more “intimate” things—but usually it was in the privacy of one of our homes, and even doing something as simple as dancing together out in public felt monumentally special to me.

  I wanted more like it.
I realized all at once that I wanted to be able to do this kind of thing with Grey all the time—be able to have him next to me, to do things like this together but also just stupid things, like grocery shopping together. It hit me hard just how much I loved being with him.

  And then it hit me even harder, swaying next to him as the band started to play a slow song and the music swelled around us, knowing that Grey would be leaving so soon.

  Portland wasn’t that far away. It wasn’t at all inconceivable that I’d still be able to see him—I could drive down to Portland on my days off, and he would still be taking bus trips up to see his mother on his days off.

  But I had no clue if he’d even want to do that. Long distance was terrible, and I’d never been able to make it work before.

  The shock of not being able to see him whenever I wanted was going to be a big one. I had only known him for under two months, but I had gotten so used to him being around. He was literally a part of my life, both in the sense that I walked his dog and was his next door neighbor, but also in that we’d grown to expect to hang out nearly every night. It felt comfortable, being with him. Not at all forced.

  And it didn’t give me any feelings like I wanted to escape. That was what had happened with all of my previous attempts at relationships—I’d be excited about a guy, want to spend so much time with him, but it would inevitably crash and burn, especially if I was traveling too much to be able to see the person.

  It was terrifying thinking that the same thing might end up happening with Grey. Instead of me being the one who was leaving, it would be him. For the first time ever, I wouldn’t be the one traveling away, I’d be the one left behind. Grey had defined my entire time being in the town. And on that night, dancing next to him in the restaurant, his familiar scent and warmth so close to me, I started feel a raw, icy fear in my chest about when it would all slip away.

  Ten

  Grey

  I stayed out on the dance floor with Adam for five whole songs, until the band wound down their first set and went to take a break.

  It was just way too fucking beautiful. It was like something I’d only seen in old movies, people swaying to old-timey music in a beautiful, perfectly lit place, rich wood and lantern lights surrounding us. It was utterly overwhelming, and I wanted to melt right into Adam, stay stuck to him like glue, kiss him until my lips were swollen.

  But then the music slowed to a halt, people wandered back to their seats, and the magic spell was momentarily lifted. I was still a little tipsy and strangely buzzing with energy as we walked back to our table, but I felt like I hadn’t had enough, like I could never have enough, like I wanted Adam so badly in ways I never even knew were possible.

  Adam paid the bill and shot down my clumsy attempts to split the check, despite the fact that I couldn’t have afforded it anyway. After I finished my drink, we sauntered back out to the car. I couldn’t help but keep my hand in Adam’s as we walked back out to his truck—normally I was fairly cautious about public displays of affection but I just felt that I needed to touch him, even on the short walk.

  Once we were in the front of the truck, Adam paused a moment, the engine still off, turning to me in the relative darkness.

  “I had such a good time in there,” he said, voice soft and gentle.

  “I did too,” I said, turning to him. I slid over on the seat, leaning toward him, and gently pressed my lips to his. I had meant it just as a gentle kiss, nothing more—but as I kissed him he sort of sank his body against mine, reaching up to grasp the sides of my face, deepening the kiss.

  I moaned softly as he kissed me, tasting the sweet tanginess of the margarita on his lips. Almost immediately I felt myself growing hard under my jeans. I’d wanted to kiss him like this the whole time we were on the dance floor, but I’d held back. But here in the darkness of the truck, it was like a switch had been flipped.

  I kissed him hungrily and he kissed back, pushing back against me while I tried to resist just straddling him and getting right on top of him.

  “Fuck, Adam,” I said as I broke away from the kiss, and he trailed his lips down to my neck, kissing along my jawline and all the way up to the shell of my ear.

  “Grey, Jesus, I’ve wanted to do this all night,” he said.

  “I wanted it too,” I said, my voice coming out weak.

  He groaned against me, giving me a firm squeeze around my shoulders. His scent, his warmth, his presence was so much, and all at once the emotions of the night and the pleasure of being next to him were swirling inside me, intoxicating.

  “Jesus fucking Christ, I am falling for you, Grey,” he said, close and hot near my ear.

  I went completely still. There was a pause, and he was still at my neck, kissing me lightly, but honestly what he’d said had sent a cold shock right through me.

  On the one hand it was obvious—of course it made sense that he’d say that. I was falling for him too, and we’d been spending so much time together that it would be stupid for either of us not to acknowledge that fact.

  But in reality, we’d never really given voice to what it was that we were doing. What was our relationship? Were we even really dating? We hadn’t discussed logistics like those, because we’d been so caught up in each other. And especially now that I was moving away so soon… it seemed crazy to try to declare a relationship now.

  “I’m sorry,” Adam whispered, his voice barely audible, and he pulled back to look me in the eye.

  “No,” I said, shaking my head. “No, no, don’t apologize.”

  “But you’re clearly kind of freaking out,” Adam said.

  I took in a shaky breath. “Maybe a little. But… not because I don’t feel the same way.”

  He nodded slowly, as if he was waiting for me to continue.

  “Adam, what we have is… goddamn incredible. I’ve never felt anything like it,” I said.

  “Me either,” he responded, and just hearing him say it made my heart skip a beat.

  “But I am leaving soon,” I continued, “And… I’m not willing to compromise on that. It’s something I’ve wanted my whole life. And I’m sure you know better than anyone how difficult long distance is.”

  He took in a breath and let it out slowly. “I do know. It’s honestly never worked for me. That doesn’t mean I wouldn’t… be willing to try something like that for you, but I also don’t want you to be held down by me if you’re trying to thrive in Portland.”

  I sat back on the seat, leaning my neck back and breathing deep. “Wow,” I said, “I really did not expect to be having this conversation tonight.”

  “I know,” he replied. “Me either.”

  “Not that I haven’t thought about it, obviously…” I said, “…but there’s some part of me that wants to pretend it doesn’t exist. I want to go on feeling like we’re in a perfect bubble and ignore the fact that I’m leaving until the day comes.”

  Out of the corner of my eye I saw him nodding, and then he turned toward me again, gently tracing his fingers down my thigh. It was so sweet and so crushing in that moment, a simple gesture in the midst of such an intense topic.

  “If that’s what you want, Grey, that’s what we can do,” he said, his voice soft.

  I turned to look him in the eye, seeing his beautiful sleepy gaze so close. I swallowed hard. “Do what?”

  He hitched up one shoulder in a shrug, his eyes burning intensely into mine. “Pretend it isn’t happening for the rest of our time together. Enjoy what we have for every moment we can. Because I don’t know about you, but I sure as hell want every moment with you I possibly can,” he said.

  I let out a soft moan. “Me too,” I whispered. My heart was slamming in my chest.

  “So let’s do it, then,” Adam said, squeezing a little harder against my thigh. “The next six weeks is ours. We don’t think about the end. And we’ll cross that bridge when we get to it.”

  I took in a deep, shaky breath, and at that point was unsure if I was about to laugh or start
crying. “Okay,” I said, nodding, “Then I’m yours, for the next six weeks. Although I guess you probably already knew that.”

  That finally got him to crack a smile, puffing out a small laugh and trailing a hand up to gently stroke my cheek. “Good.”

  “And Adam?” I said, still trying to get my heart rate to go down.

  “Yes?”

  “I’ll absolutely go to that party at Chandler’s. I can’t wait.”

  As soon as I’d told Adam I’d attend Chandler’s party, anxiety about it took root in some dark corner of my brain and only grew with every passing day. Sometimes I would look forward to it with excitement, but mostly it filled me with an impending sense of dread.

  First, I was worried about Chewy. I didn’t know who could take care of her, or more accurately, who could put up with all her little quirks. But a simple passing comment about it to my friend at the shelter and that was taken care of: Chewy had been one of the most beloved animals at the shelter despite being needy, and my friend was happy to take her for the few days. But even without that worry, I still had some sense of panic about the upcoming trip to L.A.

  Finally, the day arrived, and I wanted to slap my past self in the face.

  Why had I agreed to this? Who the hell did I think I was, attending a party for someone who is arguably the most famous former pop star of the past twenty years?

  I had traveled to the airport with Adam and gotten on a plane for the first time in over fifteen years. The last time I had taken a plane trip somewhere was with my mom to Anaheim when I was 10 years old; she’d taken me to the Grand Canyon and used up all of her yearly bonus money to make me happy. I’d gotten chicken pox and the trip had been a disaster, but she’d done it for me, and I had the pictures standing next to the canyon to prove it.

  But since then, I’d never been on a flight. It was thrilling, taking off and seeing the ground beneath give way to a blanket of clouds, before breaking through and all we could see was blue skies. The flight was a relatively short one, Portland to Los Angeles, but every ten minutes I’d stare back out the window. I held Adam’s hand with white knuckles during the landing, which he claimed was “not the worst turbulence,” but to me felt like we were going to fucking fall right out of the sky.