The Girl in the Love Song (Lost Boys 1)

“I started to drive away, and I couldn’t do it. I can’t let you go to Los Angeles without you knowing that I love you. I’ve always loved you. Since we were thirteen and stupid and scared. Scared about how much I loved you. How deep it went.” She shook her head, deep blue eyes shining. “Because it’s so deep, Miller. I can’t see the bottom.”

I stared as her speech sank in to me like warm rain. Each word melting away the anxiety, loosening the fear, filling me with warmth instead.

Violet studied my dazed expression. “You don’t have to say it back—”

I silenced her with a kiss, holding her face in both hands, kissing my love into her—four years’ worth of unspoken love behind us and a lifetime ahead.

“I love you,” I whispered against her lips. “I’m so in love with you. God, Violet. Things were utter shit and then one night, I came out of a dark forest, stumbling and lost, and there you were.”

Tears filled her eyes, but her smile was wide and brilliant. “Well,” she huffed, teary and breathy. “Glad we got that settled. And for the record, that’s the best…birthday…present…ever.”

She kissed me again, holding my hands in both of hers, then backed away and headed to her car. She gave a little wave from the window and was gone.

I sank down at a table outside the café, amazed at how a single day could be both the fucking worst and the absolute best at the same time.

A few minutes later, a black Escalade rolled into the parking lot and pulled up parallel to the shop. The passenger window rolled down, and Evelyn lowered her sunglasses at me. “Hey, baby, need a ride?”

I smirked and opened the backseat door to stow my stuff, then climbed in the front.

Evelyn took off her glasses. “Holy shit, what happened to you?”

I stiffened. “It’s nothing.”

“Nothing?” she screeched. “You’re a mess and…Jesus, what’s that on your neck?”

Holden’s scarf had fallen down, and I yanked it off. “Don’t worry about it.”

“Don’t worry…? God, are you okay?”

“I’m fine, but…it looks bad, right? For the interview?”

“It’s not ideal,” Evelyn said, putting the car in drive and heading out. Her eyes were suddenly full of thoughts. Calculating. After a few minutes she said, “I’ll give you some concealer to put on your neck. I use it all the time for that sort of thing.”

I whipped my head. “All the time for what sort of thing?”

She swallowed hard, gripping the steering wheel with both hands. “Never mind,” she said taking us north out of Santa Cruz toward the San Jose Airport. “The time has come.”

“Your demands.”

“Think of it more as a quid pro quo. I helped get you to where you’re going, now I want you to help me in return.”

“I haven’t signed a contract yet.”

“But you will. And when you do, they’re going to ask you to move to Los Angeles to cut a record. An EP, probably. They’ll want you to shoot some videos, maybe even do a tour as someone’s opener. And when all that happens,” Evelyn said, “I want to be there, too.”

“What does that mean?”

“I want you to take me with you.”

I scoffed. “Yeah, that’s not gonna happen.”

“Miller, listen to me—”

“I’m not taking you to Los Angeles, Evelyn. To live with me? I’m with Violet.”

“This has nothing to do with her,” Evelyn said. “And I’m not asking you to take me on as one of your damn groupies, for God’s sake. Ego, much?”

“Then what do you want?”