Holdingmy breath, I swallowed and wet my lips. “I guess. I think I’m just afraid tofeel lost and forgotten in a sea of people who all do the same thing as me, butbetter.”
“Hm,”he grunted, nodding astutely. “Yeah, I see what you’resayin’.I mean, what if there’s some guy out thereplayin’ aStrat better than I do? Hell, what if he looks better than medoin’ it? What if more women arethrowin’themselves at him? And he definitely doesn’t have the health issues I got …” Hescratched his bristly chin and shook his head. “Holy fuck, Molls. Guess Ibetter give up now, huh?”
Mylips parted with the immediate need to protest, to tell him this doubtfulmentality belonged only to me and never to him. Because old habits die hard,and somewhere beneath my skin, that overweight, abandoned girl still lurkedwith her insecurities. But then, I caught the glint in his eyes as one side ofhis mouth lifted into a smile.
Reachingover me, he tapped one finger against the plane’s window. “You see all thosestars out there, Molls?”
Ifollowed his gaze and nodded. “Yeah.”
“So,when I was a kid, and we’d belyin’ on our backs outin the yard andmakin’ wishes, sometimes I’d thinkabout all those stars. Allcomin’ together to createthis enormous universe and how much bigger it is than all of us.”
Iuttered a small, contemplative sound as I edged closer to the window and castmy gaze upward, to take it all in; the darkness and the light. Chad moved infurther, crowding me against the window. His presence felt instantly huge, aconfusing combination of relief and being overwhelmed. One arm slung around myshoulders and pulled me closer, against his body. He felt strong, comfortable,and maybe just a little too thin.
“Imaginethat great big sky with only one star. Howunderwhelmin’it’d be,” he spoke, his voice low and gruff against my ear, and my breathscratched uneasily against my throat like sandpaper. “The stars aren’t incompetition, Molls. The sky is big enough for all of ‘em, and every single one is needed to help eachother shine and become a part ofsomethin’ huge andbeautiful. But,” he continued with a sigh, “if it made you feel any better, I’ddim the stars if I could. If it meant you’d feel that much brighter.”
Thestars and darkened clouds blurred to my tearing eyes. The unexpecteddeclaration brought on a torrent of emotion, clogging my throat and weighing onmy chest. It was incredible how instantaneous the conflicting emotions slammedinto me, leaving me winded and desperate for air.
Itipped my head, touching my temple to his. It was the most I’d allow right now,even when my body felt heavy with a need for something else. Something more.Something you’re never supposed to feel for your best friend.
“You’rea really good guy, Chad,” I finally replied, surprised I could find my voice atall.
“Idon’t know about that, Molls,” he said in a voice gruff and hushed with theburden of his own secrets. “But what I do know is, I’m not the only one meantto be a star.”
***
Connecticutwas beautiful and cold, even in April. Stepping outside of the airport, Iwrapped my arms around myself and wished my long-sleeved t-shirt had been alittle thicker. Chad chuckled warmly and pulled his hoodie off, passing it tome.
“Maybeyou did need that winter coat,” he commented apologetically. “Here, you canwear this.”
“What’llyou wear, then?” I asked, but there was no stopping me from putting it on.Immediately I was engulfed in warmth and surrounded by his familiar scent ofspice and comfort.
“I’mfine,” he insisted, mumbling his trademark statement, and I didn’t push it.
Wefound a bench and waited for Devin to come pick us up. Chad asked if I minded ifhe called Ali, and of course I didn’t—why would I? But there, outside of anairport in Connecticut, as I inadvertently eavesdropped and overheard thedismissiveness in her tone and the hurt in his, I found Ididmind. I minded very much in fact, and that feeling made way forreminiscence as I thought about theconversationI’dhad with our mothers just last night.
IfI’m being honest, the memory had never left. They’d been right. Chad deservedso much more than what she was willing to give him.
Whatthe hell was wrong with that girl, anyway? What woman would land a guy like himand not want to at the very least share a home with him?
“Yeah,we’restayin’ at Dev’s tonight, before hitting theroad tomorrow,” Chad said. I could make out Ali’s unmistakable whine, but thewords were muffled. “Idunno, Ali. Probably thebasement. That’s where—what?” I glanced at him through the corner of my eye andcaught the hardened set of his jaw as he shook his head. “I’m notdoin’ this right now, okay? Dev’sgonnabe here in a few minutes. I’ll talk to you later, bye.” And just like that, hehung up and stuffed the phone into his backpack.
Ikept my lips sealed, making the choice to keep my nose out of his business. Itwasn’t mine to meddle in. He could handle it himself and didn’t need—
“I’mnot sure how much longer I can put up with this crap,” he mumbled, and giventhe volume of his voice, I couldn’t tell if he’d intended for me to hear. Hewas probably just thinking out loud, coming from a place of frustration, so I pretendedI hadn’t heard.
Butthen, he continued, turning to face me, “Let me ask yousomethin’,Molls, and I want you to be honest, okay?”
“Oh,God,” I uttered, chuckling uneasily. “This sounds loaded.”
“Yeah,it probably is,” he admitted. “But I need someone else’s opinion, because minedoesn’t seem to be good enough anymore.”
Iswallowed, bracing myself. “Okay. Lay it on me.”
“Wouldyou continue to be with someone who only wants to be with you when it’sconvenient for them?”
Oh, God, help me. Ishifted uneasily on the bench and fidgeted with the strings on the hoodie. “Um,I guess that depends ...”
“Don’tsoften the blow. I’m serious.”
