Chapter 5

Audrey’s P.O.V

The past couple of days had mostly consisted of sightseeing with Rob and Gina—and, surprisingly, Drew. He’d appointed himself our tour guide, clearly trying to earn back Rob’s favor. And judging by how often the two of them exchanged sarcastic jabs that ended in laughter, it was working.

Today, while the family enjoyed a day out alone, I took it as my chance to be alone too. My chance to get back into work mode.

I curled up on the couch, laptop open, papers spread across the coffee table. I was elbows deep in campaign stats and brand reports when my phone chimed.

Unknown Number

Are you home? – Drew

I smiled. Of course. I bet he bribed Rob for my number.

I typed back a quick: Yep.

Not even a minute passed before I heard a knock.

“Hey,” he said as I opened the door, not looking up—still typing something on his phone. His voice was soft but casual, like he hadn’t been pacing outside for ten minutes working up the nerve.

“Do come in,” I said, already walking back to the couch.

He stepped inside and finally looked at me. Froze.

“What?” I asked, glancing up.

“You wear glasses,” he said, blinking like I’d just sprouted wings.

“Wow. Nothing gets past you,” I teased, turning back to my laptop. “They're for reading. I don’t usually wear them around people.”

“Huh,” he said, settling next to me on the couch. “I like them.”

There was a beat of quiet as he scanned the room, then the files.

“Job stuff?”

“Yep. One-year contract. Well, for now. Could be extended if I don’t screw it up.”

“And what exactly is it?”

“Chief Campaign Manager for N.T.L.,” I said, trying not to sound too proud—and failing.

He blinked. “Wait, what? The N.T.L.?”

“That’s the one.”

His mouth parted slightly, eyes widening. “Holy shit. That’s… massive.”

“It is,” I admitted. “Six campaigns. Two live, four in development. I’m running all of them.”

He gave a low whistle. “Damn. I always knew you were scary smart, but this? You’re like a power player now.”

I couldn’t help the grin that slipped out.

“That explains the suits,” he added, his voice softer now. “And the whole boss energy.”

I tilted my head. “Too much?”

“No. Just... impressive. You’ve changed, but not really.”

I raised a brow.

He shrugged. “You’re still you. Just... polished. I dunno, it’s weird. Talking to you like this—it feels like no time passed.”

But it had. Years of silence stretched like a canyon between us. And yet, in this moment, he wasn’t wrong.

There was something weirdly easy about sitting on the couch with him again. Even if my heart kept doing backflips every time he looked at me like that.

“You don’t have to prove anything, you know,” I said.

He looked surprised. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, the way you talk, the way you act—like you’re trying to earn something. You’re not on trial here. I’m not Rob.”

His shoulders dropped, just slightly. The tension in his spine eased.

“I feel like I screwed up. I know i screwed up,” he said, voice low. “Back then. With you.”

I met his eyes. “You didn’t owe me anything. We were just...”

“Pen pals?” he finished. “No. We weren’t just that.”

I looked away, suddenly very interested in the corner of the rug.

“I know it was forever ago,” he continued, “but I still think about it sometimes. You. The stuff we used to say. The way you made me feel like... someone. Back when everything else was just noise.”

“Drew...” I exhaled, unsure what to say.

He smiled sadly. “Do you forgive me? For ghosting? For being a dumbass?”

“I was never mad,” I said softly. “Hurt, yeah. But I understood. You had to grow into your life. I knew I couldn’t be a part of it forever.”

“But I wanted you to be. I just didn’t know how to keep you without... losing myself.”

There it was. The honesty. The crack in his cool.

We sat in silence for a beat, and then I said the thing I’d always known.

“You had a crush on me.”

He laughed, startled. “You knew?”

I shot him a look. “You mailed me a ring, Drew.”

His ears went red. “God, I was such a dumbass.”

“I thought it was sweet,” I admitted. “I kept it. I wore it for years.”

His head snapped toward me. “You’re kidding.”

I shook my head. “Nope.”

“You were sixteen.”

“You were eighteen.”

“I sang you Seventeen Forever on your birthday.”

“You did.” I smiled. “It was really off-key.”

“I was nervous!”

We laughed. The tension broke for just a moment, replaced by something softer. Sweeter.

“I’ve done a lot of stupid things,” he said. “But I’m not that guy anymore. I want to show you that.”

I didn’t say anything. But I didn’t push him away, either.

“Anyway,” he said after a minute, “I should let you get back to work. I’m hogging your couch.”

“You’re not,” I said before I could think better of it. “But I do need to finish these.”

He stood, and I followed him to the door.

We hesitated.

Then, without asking, he pulled me into a hug.

I didn’t stop him.

“You’re tall,” I muttered into his chest.

His chest vibrated with a quiet laugh. “Well, you did name me ‘Giraffe’ without even meeting me.”

I leaned back just a little, smiling up at him. “Yep. You exceed expectations.”

His eyes lit up, something boyish sparking there. “Ohh… you’re trouble, Audrey. You always were.”

The words lingered between us, soft and unspoken—like a song I used to hum in the dark, never quite loud enough to hear out loud.

And just like that, a memory came flooding back.

________________________________________

Flashback – Years Ago

It was past midnight where I was. I remember that because I’d been in bed, hair pulled up, laptop propped on my knees as I sat in the glow of fairy lights. The screen flickered with pixelated noise for a second before it stabilized—and then there he was.

Drew. Fresh off his first show on tour. His hair was longer, darker than I remembered from photos. His voice, when it greeted me, was buzzing—half from adrenaline, half from disbelief.

“It was insane,” he said, eyes wide and almost glassy. “Audrey, they knew the lyrics. They were actually singing them back to me.”

I smiled, even though he couldn’t see it clearly through the shaky video feed. “Of course they did. They’re yours.”

He looked stunned for a moment, then grinned and ducked his head. “God, you always say the stuff I need to hear.”

The screen jostled as he stood up to grab something—probably water. But when he did, I heard a loud thunk, followed by a very colorful string of curses.

I burst into laughter as he rubbed his head and glared at the ceiling of his cramped tour bus.

“Jesus. I can’t even stand without hitting something. This bunk is made for hobbits.”

“Or normal-sized people,” I said between laughs. “Damn, you are a giraffe.”

He froze. Then smirked. “Wow. That’s gonna stick, isn’t it?”

“Absolutely,” I grinned. “Giraffe-boy has entered the chat.”

He muttered something about betrayal, but he was smiling too.

________________________________________

Back to Present

And now here he was. Standing in my apartment, years later, actually being the damn giraffe.

“You always were,” he’d said.

So that’s what I was. Trouble, I mean. Or IN trouble.

I didn’t say anything. Just looked up at him. The moment stretched.

Maybe a little too long.

Drew’s expression shifted. His smile faded, softening into something quieter. His eyes searched mine—like he was wondering if this was real, if I was real.

I was.

And it scared the hell out of me.

“I’ll talk to you later,” he said gently, letting go.

And then he was gone.

Drew’s P.O.V

The door clicked shut behind me.

And only then did I breathe.

A shaky, uneven exhale that left my chest hollow. Like I’d been holding my breath since the moment she touched me.

I stepped into the hallway and leaned my back against the wall, staring up at the ceiling like maybe the plaster had answers. My hands found the back of my neck, then dropped, restless, useless.

Shit.

My fingers were trembling. Just enough to notice. Just enough to tell me the truth I didn’t want to face.

She’s here. She’s actually here.

And all the memories I spent years trying to pack away in boxes and bury under the noise—the tour stops, the hotel rooms, the screaming crowds—they all burst open at once. No warning. No mercy.

The way she laughed. The way she called me Giraffe. That look in her eyes when I told her she exceeded expectations.

God.

I used to wonder what it would be like—if we ever met.

And now I knew.

It was like this. Beautiful. Disarming. Terrifying.

Because she’s not a daydream anymore. She’s not a screen. She’s not a voice in my head or words on paper.

She’s Audrey. In the flesh. Living in the apartment right below mine. Breathing the same air.

And I—

I can’t.

My throat tightened, a knot rising that I didn’t dare swallow. I dug the heels of my hands into my eyes, forcing myself to stay grounded.

I wanted her. God, I wanted her more than anything. And not just the version I built in my head over the years. I wanted this Audrey. The one who wore reading glasses and cooked mushrooms and stood up to Damien like she owned the place.

But I couldn’t.

Because reality was a bitch. And mine came with strings.

My phone buzzed in my pocket.

I didn’t want to look.

But I did.

Jen.

The name flashing across the screen burned like acid.

My chest caved in a little. Like someone punched straight through the fantasy and dragged me back into the mud.

I stared at the call.

Didn’t answer.

Let it ring out.

But the ringing kept echoing in my ears long after it stopped.

I couldn’t go back in there. Not with this in my pocket. Not with her so close and everything broken still clinging to me like a second skin.

Not until I figured out what the hell I was doing.

Because if I stepped back into Audrey’s life now—if I let myself touch what I’d wanted all these years—I wouldn’t be able to let it go.

And the worst part?

I don’t think I want to let it go.