A little spark ignites within me as I lock eyes with Kade from across the truck bay. It's a feeling that is becoming more familiar to me by the day, especially when he's performing. As I stand to the side of the stage, I try to take in all the members in the band, but I always end up captivated by Kade. There is something about the way he moves and the passion he exhibits for the music that is mesmerizing.

Kade shifts away from the doorway, and his smile vanishes.

"Come over here and race with me, Kade," Seb says.

"I was just coming to tell you dinner is ready." He doesn't say another word and leaves.

Kade avoids me at all costs; I've even tried to exchange pleasantries with him just to be civil, but he seems to zone me out. It's a horrendous feeling that makes me want to hide whenever I notice he's within a twenty-foot radius of me.

Everyone heads for the door, and I stay where I am, lost in thought.

"A.J., what are you doing? It's dinner time; you're coming, right?" Oscar asks from across the room.

Two venues back, I discovered this little cove in the back of the stage, and it is calling my name. When everything is getting to me—missing Asher, homesickness, or Kade—I put in my earbuds, blasting music and retreat to my new hideaway.

Forcing a smile, I say, "I'll catch up with you guys in a minute."

Oscar nods before following the rest of his friends.

Oscar and I do not talk about Kade often, but he knows the story of our first meeting, and he still stands firm to the notion that Kade will come around. They are like brothers and only want to acknowledge the best about one another to someone outside their tight-knit circle. It's how I am with Nicky. As his sister, I may point out his flaws, but I don't want to hear it from someone else.

I recover from my Kade run-in and step into the empty hallway. I don't plan to go to dinner tonight; the tight knots in my stomach have killed my appetite. As I approach the dining hall, conversations and laughter spill into the corridor. Everyone is most likely eating, and I have a clear path to my destination.

I'm grabbed by the arm and stumble back through a doorway. My heart pounds and my voice hitches as my back presses against a wall in the dark room. I blink several times until my eyes adjust to find a tall figure standing over me appears. Kade.

He closes the distance between us and his chest presses to mine as he breathes in. My palms tingle, begging me to hold on to him or push him away; I don't know which.

"Ariella." My name leaves his lips with the rasp, and I long to hear him repeat it.

I focused on his face and appreciate how handsome he is—the light scruff on his square chin, the deep set of his amber eyes, and the pout of his full lips. I drop my gaze and clench my fingers, overwhelmed by the urge to trace the hollow of his neck.

No, A.J. This isn't all right.

"You know Oscar has a girlfriend, right?" Kade asks, his breath hot on my face, with the lingering scent of mint.

I nod, and the tip of my finger brushes the edge of his hip. One touch to get it out of my system and kill with my love-hate fascination with him.

He tilts his head, aligning his lips with mine. All I need to do is stand on my tiptoes, and I'd know what it is like to kiss Kade Slone.

His lips almost brush mine as he says, "Because if you're just looking to fuck, you could fuck me."

The harshness of his words crashes into me, and my body resumes normal function. I push him away from me, and he staggers backward with a wicked satisfied smirk.

"Go fuck yourself," I spit and rush from the room.

The hallway is too bright and too long; I need out. I sprint out of the building and into the fading sunlight, heading for my hideout. I curl into the small alcove blanketed in the green grass of the field. Wrapping my arms around my knees, I rest my face on top and uncontainable sobs rattle my body.

I'm disgusted with myself; there was a part of me that wanted Kade to kiss me. I wanted him to initiate the kiss, so it would be his fault and not mine. It was a shit move on my part, and I know it.

I'm glad it didn't happen. He already thinks I would cheat on Asher with one of his friends, and I don't want to feed into the notion. But why does he even think I would want anything physical with anyone but my boyfriend? Maybe because for a split second I did. I'm so revolted with him and myself.

With shaking hands, I pull my phone from my back pocket and go to my favorites. I hit Asher's name, and the phone rings twice before going to voicemail. Unrelenting tears run down my face. It's days like these that I miss my boyfriend's sweet words and understanding. But he's not the only person who supplies those acts of kindness to me.

I select a new name and wait for her to answer.

"Ciao," says the welcoming female from my speakers.

I take a deep breath, already comforted by the sound of her voice. "Ciao, Nonna."

"Ariella, are you all right? What is wrong?"

I almost laugh; she's so in tune with me, and there is no hiding from her. I could just breathe a certain way, and she knows I'm happy, sad, depressed, or just need to talk.

Despite her ability to gauge my moods, I don't want to repeat what happened with Kade. She would hang up and call Nicky, and I do not want to cause trouble for him; he'd beat the hell out of Kade. So, I settle on telling her a truth—just not the truth.

"I'm homesick and wanted to hear your voice." I pluck a blade of grass from the field and twirl it in between my index finger and thumb. Its flat shape skips between my fingers, the sensation keeping me grounded.

"Oh, mia nipotina, I miss you too. I think about you every day and wonder if they are feeding you well."

"They feed me, Nonna." I smile at her worry. God forbid I don't have a stuffed belly every night.

She tsks. "I know they are feeding you, but are they feeding you well? Are you eating pasta and freshly made sauces? Are you sleeping well because you have eaten well?"

"No, I guess I'm not eating well." I laugh. "Now I'm not only homesick, but I miss your cooking too."

"You will have to promise me that you will eat in Italy. I don't want to see you coming home skin and bones."

Food is an expression of love for Nonna. She loves us, so she feeds us. If home-cooked meals can't come from her, then they should come from her people. They will know how important something like this is to her.

"I promise." And I mean it; it will make her happy to know I ate a good Italian meal.

"Good. Now you have fun, and if you feel homesick again, you call me right away. Do you understand?" Her voice is stern but filled with good intentions.

"Yes, Nonna."

There is a shift in her tone and the love she has for me radiates through the phone. "I love you, Ariella. Don't you ever forget that."

"I won't, and I love you too."

I feel better. My brief conversation with Nonna has me thinking I'll be able to overcome this moment. I want to make her and my dad proud, but more than that, I want to do this job to the best of my abilities.