Love Strings (Completed)

05 || A PINKIE PROMISE

The giddiness is so unlike her, but I guess Ben's doing a fine job keeping her in a good mood, not something she's used to. I love, love, love Ben. The only thing I love more is Ben and Amelie together. Such a change from her scum of the earth ex who shall never be mentioned again.

"I'll text you." Mike wraps me in his arms, kissing me as if we have no audience. I kiss him back, forgetting Am, and the hallway, and the open door of the apartment.

When we separate, and he heads out, our connection doesn't break, just extends with each step. The need to call after him is against every behavior I'm used to.

I'm self-sufficient. I don't chase boys or men. But I want to chase after this one. I shut the door and lock the bolt. I shake my head to get rid of the thoughts I don't want to be thinking. I forbid my heart to ask questions.

Mike's just a nice guy I enjoyed spending the night with. Nothing more. But if I give in and decide to see him again, it's only to feel his lips on mine and to linger in his warmth.

"Should I even ask?" says Amelie when I turn to face her.

"Should I ask about you staying at Ben's place again?"

"Don't deflect. Are you going to see him again?"

"Is 'I have his number' an answer?"

"It most definitely is," she says, and her grin returns. She gives me two thumbs up again. Am and I laugh as she heads to her room. I let the idea of calling Mike re-enter my head, and it's not as scary as I anticipated. It feels possible. Good even.

Back to the living room, I attempt to clean up. I don't need to close my eyes to see the ghost of Mike on the bar stool by the counter, as I move it back into place and wipe it off. I'm not going to tell Amelie his naked behind was on it, but I'm paying it forward. I hope she wipes the stool as well when it's Ben's turn to sit on it au natural.

I collect the cushions from the couch and imagine Mike's legs hanging over its arm—too short for his height. Daydreaming is something I'm used to. I get lost in my mind and forget about time or place. Punctuality will never be easy for me, no matter how many alarms and reminders I program into my phone. My phone. That's what's been buzzing on the counter. Is Mike calling me already?

I run back, and my heart falls. It's Jason, my agent. I press 'answer' and brace myself. What have I forgotten to do this time around?

"Are you sitting down?" Jason's voice breaks on the last word, and I know it is either something great or something horrible.

"Just spill it already." My heart picks up speed. I pray he spits out whatever has him in a tizzy.

"Pack your bags. You open for The Whats for the next four months."

The Whats. The Whats? It's Black Friday, not April Fool's Day.

"The Whats, who won two Grammys this year? The hottest pop-rock group on the planet? Those The Whats?" I squeak into the phone.

"The very same. Your luck's turning. Poppy, the band's guitarist, heard you yesterday and because they had an issue with Kiera, their scheduled opener, they want you for the last leg of their US tour. Preferably, starting the rehearsals tomorrow. We'll have to sign the contract, but the money is about the same as you would've earned on your usual circuit. The publicity, however, is a goldmine for your future. They play some smaller intimate venues but also a couple of arenas. It's a huge break for you, Angie. You can't even imagine how huge."

I listen to him babble as the picture comes together in my mind. Friendsgiving Bash. Poppy talking to me, staring at me like I was a puzzle, giving me her card.