God, I’m gonna miss this.
“It’s okay,” he says softly, ensuring his words are just for my ears. “Not wanting to share all of this with the world yet.”
Pulling back, I meet his steady blue gaze, searching for any traces of doubts.
“I’m not ashamed,” I tell him firmly, reaching for his hand and squeezing.
His mouth tightens faintly in the corners, but for once he doesn’t look like he doesn’t believe me.
“I know,” he chokes out quietly. “I know that. Slow, remember? It’s okay to go slow. One day at a time.”
Blinking rapidly, I nod. “One day at a time.”
His lips rise. “I like that you’re territorial.”
Huffing through my nose, I shake my head. “Fuck off.”
“I told you, it’s cute.”
Groaning, I shove his stupid, smiling face away. “Fucking asshole,” I grumble.
He’s about to say something, probably something infuriating, but the guys cut in before he gets the chance, announcing we’re going for celebratory tattoos.
Will’s face blanches and I don’t bother stifling a laugh.
The guys and I always joked that we’d get matching tattoos the day we “hit it big." I wouldn’t say making a breakthrough with a song counts as hitting it big, but you know what? Fuck it.
We alreadydidmake it big. We’re here, aren’t we? We hit our first of what will probably be many challenges, and we fucking overcame it. All without caving into our addictions.
We didn’t give up.
If that’s not a reason to fucking celebrate, I don’t know what is.
Fivedays.
Five perfectly imperfect days.
LA is an inherently lonely city, one fueled by impossible dreams and broken hearts.
But for five long, sunshine-filled days, I got to live what so few achieve here.
Work didn’t stop for anyone, least of all me. And least of all Will, who had no choice but to either watch me work or traipse around the city by himself.
But seeing him in the sound booth as I belted out lyrics written for him into a microphone had a way of making up for all that. Even though we would’ve much rather have spent the little time we had together alone, and preferably naked.
But watching him smile through the glass. Watching him laugh with the guys in between take after take after take…
Feeling his hand on mine, strong and warm, yet casual, and so, so easy as we walked Sunset Boulevard on the days and evenings I got a break from the studio, looking for somewhere to eat…
That’s what the real dreams are made of.
Crashing into bed together at night was just the cherry on top.
“Whatcha thinkin’ about?” he asks, pulling me out of my thoughts.
I squint up at the setting sun, sitting big and orange in the sky. It’s a September evening in California. Not too hot, not too cold. Perfect.
Sand cushions the back of my head from under a thin white sheet we brought from the hotel. Will’s sprawled out on his stomach next to me. With nothing but the soundtrack of waves crashing into the beach, it’s quiet. Peaceful.