I rolled my eyes and hugged her again. “Yes, it’s okay. I have plans but—”
“We can do whatever you need to do!” she offered, pulling back, giving me a rare view of her makeup-less and wigless upper body. Yuki Young, the person I loved and who had painted my nails once a week when I’d stayed with her at her twenty-thousand-square-foot mansion in Nashville.
Looking at her, only a massive fan would recognize her. And it was really, really rare. We could go out in public all the time… with her bodyguard that looked more like a boyfriend.
“I wasn’t really going to give you the chance to choose otherwise, Yu.” I laughed, feeling so tired but so happy to see her.
Honestly, it filled my heart with so much joy, I might have cried if my eyeballs were capable of it, but they were still so tired.
The only plan I had today had been…
Oh crap. I turned my head to find Amos standing in the exact same spot he’d been in when we’d stopped. His hands were on his belly, his mouth was slightly gaped, and he looked like someone had just told him he was two months pregnant.
“Amos,” I said carefully, everything suddenly clicking now. “This is my friend Yuki. Yuki, this is my friend Amos.”
He made a wheezing sound.
“Amos, are you sure it’s all right that I’m using your mix to make pancakes?” Yuki asked him with an earnest smile, all too familiar with that kind of reaction.
“Uh-huh,” the teenage boy whispered.
I, on the other hand, wasn’t so sure. Mostly because I knew his dad and how protective he was. “Am, can I borrow the house phone and call your dad real quick?”
He nodded, gaze still stuck on my friend of the last ten years. For someone who wasn’t a fan of her music—his words when I’d casually mentioned her during one of our sessions to test out the waters—he sure did seem starstruck. Then again, she was a household name who had magically appeared at his house, in the process of making pancakes while dressed like… well, like normal Yuki. The colored wigs she put on were nowhere in sight and neither were the colorful outfits and even more colorful makeup that so many of her fans tried to replicate.
She was just here, in a small town in Colorado, her sleek black hair cut shorter than it had been in a while, ending right at her chin, in jeans and an old NSYNC shirt… that she’d stolen from me and I hadn’t noticed until now.
I loved her. Thief or not.
But first, I needed to call and leave a message. Grabbing the house phone from the dock I found on the counter, I caught a big grin from Yuki, who at another glance looked worn the hell out, and then had Amos recite his dad’s number. Half expecting him not to answer—and praying he didn’t—I was surprised when Mr. Rhodes picked up.
“Everything all right?” was the first thing he said, sounding alarmed.
It was sevenish in the morning, and he had to be wondering what his kid was doing waking up early when he didn’t have school. “Morning, Mr. Rhodes, it’s Aurora,” I said, cursing in my head that of course he’d answer. “Am is fine.”
There was a pause then, “Morning,” he greeted me back in a cautious voice. “Is there a problem?”
“No, not at all.”
“Are you fine?” he asked slowly in a grumbly voice that had me wondering what time he’d woken up.
We hadn’t done much more than wave at each other, which really consisted of me waving and him lifting two fingers or lifting his chin in response, since the day of the bat house. He hadn’t been outgoing or kind, but more just… back to putting up with my existence in the peripheral of his life. And that was all right. At least Amos had been keeping me company. I didn’t have any illusions.
“We’re both fine,” I replied, hoping he wouldn’t get too mad about having not just me but a stranger in the house too. “I was just calling to tell you that my friend showed up to surprise me and accidentally went to your house first, and we’re… here.”
“Okay…”
Okay?
Was this the same person who had mentioned at least ten times that I couldn’t have visitors over?
“She’s making us pancakes,” I went on, baring my teeth at myself.
That next “okay” sounded just like the first one had, trailing off and kind of funky.
I walked off toward the hall where Amos’s bedroom was so that they wouldn’t hear me and dropped my voice. “Please don’t get mad at Amos; he was just being polite. I would have let you know in advance or gotten a hotel room, but she surprised me,” I tried to explain just to be on the safe side. “I’m sorry we’re here.”