Page 63 of When the Stars Rise

“We don’t even know who these girls are,” Caleb says, his brow etched with concern. Dude thinks he’s solely responsible for Hayley’s well-being. Hate to break it to him, but that’s my job, not his.

“Maybe you should meditate on it,” Liam says dryly.

“That one girl is hot, though,” Aiden says. After a pause, “They’re definitely over eighteen, right?”

Liam smacks his brother upside the head. “Don’t be an asshole. We don’t need a repeat of Argentina.”

“She told me she was twenty-one,” Aiden mumbles.

“She was a schoolgirl,” Liam informs me. “Like, sixteen or something. Dean kicked him off the tour, but Zoe swooped in and did damage control,” Liam explains as if I’d asked.

“Dean was pissed. Raked me over the coals for weeks.” Aiden shakes his head. “But if you saw this girl, I’m telling you, she didnotlook sixteen.”

“She looked sixteen,” Jules says, not looking up from his phone.

I’m with Liam on this one. That was a stupid move.

But I’m too caught up in my own drama to dwell.

I have no idea what happened on that short flight from New York to Pittsburgh, but it’s like a flip has switched, and now I get the impression that Hayley feels like she has something to prove. She doesn’t. Not with me, anyway.

A little bit of clarity would be nice, though. It feels like we’re back to square one. I have no idea where we stand.

I broached the topic a few days ago, attempting to figure out where her head was. “So, do you want to talk about this?” I asked.

By that, I meant,Do you want to talk about us and where this relationship is headed?

I wanted to get to the bottom of her flippant remark on the plane. It rubbed me wrong, and even now, five days later, I’m still perplexed, and okay, I’m a bit pissed off that she’s being so evasive.

“There’s nothing to talk about,” she’d said. “We’re just having fun and living in the moment.”

So that’s where we are—just having fun and living in the moment.

While I wholeheartedly embrace that approach to life, I don’t like it much regarding our relationship.

Is she trying to give me a taste of my own medicine? That doesn’t make sense, though. I never took our relationship lightly.

So, what exactly are we doing? Are we friends with benefits? Or are we in it for the long haul?

Fuck it. We only have three weeks left on this tour, and I’m not going to waste any more time analyzing the situation.

If Hayley wants fun, you can bet your ass that I’m going to be the man who delivers.

The SUV drops us at the door, and we walk into the club like we own the place.

Neon LED lights hang from the ceiling synchronized to the beats the DJ is spinning—soul, funk, and house.

The club is dark and vibey with exposed brick walls and a long bar down one side, which is as far as I get before being stopped by a group of girls asking for photos.

“Is that Amiri?” a brunette asks, running her hand down my chest over the silky fabric of my black and white Argyle-print short-sleeved button-down. Which, in fact,isAmiri. Cool brand. One of my favorites.

My family teases me mercilessly about my love of fashion. My modeling career has taught me to appreciate a good cut and fabric, so yeah, I like fashion, and a lot of brands send me clothes. It’s just one of the perks of being an influencer.

The girl with her hand on my chest gives me a big smile. “We should dance,” she says.

We should definitelynotdance.

After posing for photos, I remove her hand with a smile and excuse myself.