Page 75

“Room for one more?” Justine asks, sliding the door open.
“Always.”
She joins me at the railing, close enough that our shoulders touch. “That was nice. Thanks for including us.”
“It was Elle’s idea, but I’m glad you came.”
“Me too.” She turns to face me, her eyes searching mine. “The part about unexpected connections . . . did you mean?—”
“You,” I confirm, setting my glass down. “Definitely you.”
Her smile is radiant in the dim light. I glance through the glass doors to make sure no one’s watching, then pull her closer, my hands settling on her waist.
“This is dangerous,” she whispers, even as she leans into me.
“I like dangerous,” I murmur against her neck.
She laughs softly. “Since when?”
“Since you.”
Our lips meet, and I forget about everything else. The tour, the band, the complications. There’s only Justine, warm and realin my arms, her mouth moving against mine with increasing urgency.
Someone clears their throat, and we spring apart. Keane stands in the doorway, eyebrow raised but expression neutral.
“Dana’s looking for you,” he says to Justine. “Something about the performance schedule tomorrow.”
Justine nods, her cheeks flushed. “Thanks. I’ll be right there.” She squeezes my hand once before slipping past Keane.
He waits until the door closes behind her. “Careful, Quinn.”
“I know what I’m doing,” I tell him, though I’m not entirely convinced myself.
“Do you?” He leans against the railing beside me. “Because from where I’m standing, it looks like you’re diving headfirst into something that could blow up in both your faces.”
I sigh, running a hand through my hair. “It’s not what you think.”
“I know back in Boston, I told you I thought Justine liked you, but I didn’t think your feelings for her would escalate so quickly. Because, I’ll be honest, Quinn, it looks like you’re falling for her.”
I’ve fallen for her.
I don’t answer, which is answer enough. I don’t know if I can admit how I feel to anyone but her.
“Look,” Keane says, his voice softening, “I like Justine. We all do. But you’re both part of bands that need to function together for months. If this goes sideways . . .”
“I know the risks,” I say. “We both do.”
Keane studies me for a moment. “All right. Just be smart about it.”
I clap him on the shoulder. “Appreciated.”
Later that night, when we’re back on the bus, cruising down the highway, and after everyone has gone back to their bunks, I find myself unable to sleep. The bus feels too quiet afterthe evening’s festivities. I head to the lounge with my guitar, thinking I might work on some new ideas.
I’m midway through a chord progression when I hear the door slide open. Justine stands there in sweatpants and a tank top, her hair pulled up in a messy bun.
“Can’t sleep either?” she asks.
I shake my head. “Too much pie, probably.”