Page 73 of With Stars in Her Eyes

Tomorrow would be another day spent with attorneys trying to convince them to let me out of releasing the album. Another day spent with Demetrius looking betrayed and confused, trying to convince me that it was the time to tell my story.

As I tried to sleep, my parents’ voices blended with Jeremiah’s. Anxieties and memories blended into a chorus of words from my past.

“You break everything you touch, Dove.”

“You can’t hide from me. You can’t hide from God either.”

“You committed a murder today.”

I rolled over to the other side of the king bed in the Brooklyn hotel, but a tugging pain had me straightening the thin gold hoop on my ear. It wasn’t sore anymore except when I accidentally pulled on it.

I fingered the cool metal hooped through the daith piercing.

Had it really been last night that I was kissing Thea and licking along her ear in that upstairs studio?

It was a million years ago and hundreds of miles away.

Maybe after I slept for a while, I would be able to figure out what the hell I should do next.

CHAPTER 24Thea

“Morning, sunshine.” Marshall’s voice rattled against my skull.

“I hate you. Go away.”

“You told me to wake you up at eight. And about three other people have already called and/or texted to make sure that you survived the night. God, it’s a good thing none of them knew how drunk you got when you visited me for spring training in 2009.”

“I wish my head wasn’t attached to my body. Why did you let me drink that much during a book club?”

“I was a little distracted, truth be told.”

“By?”

“Trying not to run away every time my dad’s oldest friend—a woman I’ve known since I was in diapers—gave in-depth thoughts on the practicality and mechanics of bedroom scenes.”

“Come on now. They didn’t all happen in a bedroom.”

Marshall groaned.

“You’re the one making strategy notes in the margins of your copy.” I regretted laughing immediately because of what it did to my stomach. “I love Ms. Jeannie.”

“Me too. But I didn’t need to know all her thoughts about missionary.” He shuddered.

“Prude.” My yawn tasted foul. “I think I need a shower.”

“You do. You smell worse than when that ferret tried to mark you as its territory.”

I threw a pillow at him. But with his stupid NFL tight end reflexes, the bastard caught it before it hit his face.

“Did Courtney call?” He glanced at my phone, which was sticking out of the neck of my shirt like I had fallen asleep with it.

“She…Whoa.”

“You okay?”

“I think shedidcall.” I swiped to the call log. Sure enough, there was a forty-five-minute call, but I only remembered snippets… some of which were fairly mortifying. “I think at one point I told her I wanted to cuddle her. Oh my god.”

“Well, that’s kinda swee—”