Total pages in book: 97
Estimated words: 93936 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 470(@200wpm)___ 376(@250wpm)___ 313(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 93936 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 470(@200wpm)___ 376(@250wpm)___ 313(@300wpm)
She laughs, tears spilling over. “That’s a hell of a resolution, Quinn James.”
“I mean every word.”
As the countdown to midnight begins around us—ten, nine, eight—I think about everything that had to happen to get us here.
Nola leaving.
The tour.
Finding myself in the music again.
Finding Justine.
Seven, six, five . . .
Sometimes the best things come from the worst moments. Sometimes you have to lose everything to realize what you actually want.
Four, three, two . . .
“I love you,” I whisper against Justine’s ear.
“I love you too,” she whispers back.
One.
The ball drops. Fireworks explode overhead. Confetti falls like snow. And in the middle of Times Square, on national television, with the whole world watching, I kiss the woman I love and know that this—right here, right now—is exactly where I’m supposed to be.
The road to forever led me straight to her.
TWENTY-SIX
Iwake up to my phone buzzing like an angry hornet. The sound cuts through the comfortable hum of the tour bus engine, and for a moment, I’m disoriented. Sunlight streams through the small window of my bunk, and I can hear muffled voices from the lounge area.
Then I remember. Times Square. The kiss. Going public on national television.
Yes!
I grab my phone and immediately regret it. Seventeen missed calls, forty-three text messages, and notifications from every social media app I’ve forgotten I have. The preview screen shows a constant stream of alerts—Instagram, X, TikTok, even LinkedIn, which I didn’t even know could send notifications.
Mom
Sweetie, your father and I saw the show. We’re so happy for you.
Relief floods through me. At least my parents are okay with it.
Peyton
OMG Quinn! Juniper was fussing and I turned on the TV just in time to see you kiss Justine! She stopped crying immediately. I think she approves. Also, Noah says to tell you it’s about damn time.
I scroll through the rest. Friends, family, even some numbers I don’t recognize. There are screenshots of entertainment news headlines, links to articles, and more congratulations than I can count. But it’s the entertainment news alerts not only make me smile but also make my stomach drop. I didn’t think about this side of things. I just wanted everyone to know how I felt about Justine.
“Sinful Distraction’s Quinn James goes public with new romance on New Year’s Eve”
“From heartbreak to happiness: Quinn James’ surprise kiss rocks Times Square”
“Who is Justine Floyd? Meet the Plum frontwoman who stole a rock star’s heart”
“Exclusive: Inside Quinn James’ secret tour romance”
The headlines keep coming, each one more dramatic than the last. Some are positive, others are invasive, and a few are just plain ridiculous. One tabloid is already speculating about wedding plans based on “body language analysis” from our Times Square kiss.
I slide out of my bunk and pad toward the lounge in my boxers and yesterday’s T-shirt. The bus is still moving—we’re somewhere between New York and wherever—and through the windows, I can see we’re on a highway surrounded by gray January landscape.
Dana’s hunched over her laptop with a cup of coffee, Hendrix is scrolling his phone with an amused expression, and Keane’s reading what looks like a physical newspaper and Ajay is on video chat with his kids.
“Morning, Romeo,” Dana says without looking up from her screen. “Sleep well?”
“How bad is it?” I ask, pouring myself coffee from the pot that someone thankfully already made.
“Depends on your definition of bad,” Hendrix says, turning his phone toward me. The screen shows an Entertainment Tonight article with the headline “Rock’s Newest Power Couple.” Below it is a photo of Justine and me kissing in Times Square, and I have to admit, it’s a pretty good shot. “Entertainment Tonight wants an exclusive. Rolling Stone wants to do a feature on ‘rock’s newest power couple.’ And TMZ is calling you ‘the anti-bachelor’ for choosing love over the single life.”
I sink into the booth across from them, cradling my coffee like a lifeline. “Well, Elle does love it when the band gets attention.”
“Look at this,” Keane says, folding his newspaper with the precision of someone who still believes print media matters. He slides a section toward me. It’s a review of our MSG show, and the headline reads “Sinful Distraction Proves They’re More Than Just Another Rock Band.” “They’re calling it our best performance to date. Said the chemistry between you and Justine elevated both bands to new heights.”
I scan the review, and it’s glowing. The critic talks about our “evolution as artists” and how the collaboration with Plum has “unlocked new depths” in our music. There’s a whole paragraph about the “palpable connection” between Justine and me during our duets.
“This is actually really good,” I say, surprised.
“Most of them are,” Dana adds, spinning her laptop around. “Elle emailed and said, People Magazine wants to do a feature on both bands. Billboard wants to interview you about the creative process. Even The Tonight Show reached out.”