Breaking Stars - J. Sterling Page 0,66

I’m asking you a question you should already know the answer to, don’t you think?”

Heat crept up my neck and flooded into my cheeks. I felt like an idiot. I’d talked and fought for the chance to go to college for so many years, but I’d never actually taken any of the steps to do it. I looked away from Tatum’s knowing stare. “I’m not sure where I want to go.”

“Well, figure it out.” He pointed to the Internet icon.

I paused for a moment. “I always thought I’d want to get as far away from everyone as possible. But now I don’t think I’d be happy if I went that far away. Is that stupid? Do you think I’m a wimp? I bet Quinn would call me a wimp,” I said, babbling.

“Why would I think you’re a wimp?” His hand caressed my arm and chills appeared.

“I don’t know. It’s just that I’ve been fighting with my agent over this for so long. And now that I’m actually thinking about doing it, I don’t think I want to go away at all.”

Tatum squinted at me. “What do you mean you don’t want to go away?”

“I just mean that I still want to go to college, but I think that I actually want to do it in LA. I don’t want to completely give up one thing for another, and I’ve worked too hard to build the career I have to just walk away from it. And I don’t want to, but I also want something normal. I want to go to college and do college things. I guess I just want it all,” I said slowly, realizing that I didn’t want to give up on acting completely.

Actually, I wanted options and I wanted control, in all areas of my life; I was tired of everything being decided for me. There had to be a way where I could have all the things I wanted without losing my career.

“Makes sense to me. You want to control your destiny. You want to have a say in your life. And you should.”

“So should you,” I added, realizing now more than ever that our situations, while completely different, had similar themes.

“I wouldn’t even know where to start anymore. I’ve been out of school for so long, basically doing nothing but running Dad’s shop. What the hell would I major in? What would be the point?” His voice sounded so deflated, it tore at my heartstrings.

“Well, what did you want to do before? You never did tell me.”

“Don’t laugh, all right?” he warned before getting up off the couch.

“Okay,” I said slowly as he walked away.

Tatum reappeared and sat on the couch with an acoustic guitar in his hand. “I love to play. My dream was to write and produce music,” he confessed, and I was dumbfounded. I had never seen this coming. Tatum had never even hinted at me that he loved music or wanted to have anything to do with it.

“Have you written anything? How well do you play? Do you sing too? Will you play something for me?” The overload of questions spilled from my lips as my curiosity and excitement built.

Tatum settled the guitar on his lap and began to strum a hauntingly beautiful melody. Lyrics filled the space between us as he sang along to the words he wrote, although not always loud enough for me to understand. I sat there staring at him, the red feeling inside me starting to burn. This incredible man who had been through so much had the most beautiful singing voice and talent, and I’d had no clue.

When he finished playing, I closed my mouth and smiled. “Tatum, you have an amazing voice. You can really sing.”

He lowered his head briefly before looking into my eyes. “Thanks, but I don’t like singing and I’m not comfortable singing in front of an audience, obviously. But I love writing the melodies and sometimes the lyrics. The way everything comes together and creates this piece of music that no one’s ever heard before…” His eyes danced with excitement. “It fires me up.”

“I can tell.”

“So, what did you think?”

“You’re incredibly talented. And I’m not just saying that because I like kissing you. I really mean it.”

He leaned forward and sat his guitar on the floor. “You like kissing me?” he teased, his lips inching closer.

“Did I say like?” I sucked my bottom lip between my teeth. “I meant love. I love kissing you,” I said before pressing my mouth

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