Dad must have seen the hot blush that had bloomed all over my face (and probably neck) even in the flashing lights around us. “Don’t be embarrassed,” he said in such a patronizing dad tone that it just embarrassed me a million times more. “It’s just a few photos.”
I shook my head.
“Nessa,” Dad said in that voice. The one I couldn’t ignore.
I looked up at him.
“Please do this for me. No one will ever know it’s you.”
How could I explain? How could I make him understand just how much I didn’t want to do this without letting on that there was a history with Andres and me? A very complicated history.
That we’d called a truce less than twenty-four hours before only complicated things more.
“Fine,” was all I could say as I let Rex lead me over.
“Let’s try a few with Vanessa,” he said very matter-of-factly.
Sandy looked at me with eyebrows raised, and I just shrugged. She couldn’t be mad at me—not one bit of this was my doing. She had to know that.
Rex was looking at the boys, seeming to size them up.
Please not Andres, please not Andres, I chanted in my head as he seemed to take forever to choose.
“Dave, why don’t we try this next one with you?”
I had to bite back the sigh of relief but was almost dizzy with it.
I wasn’t sure why he would pick Dave since he was the temporary member, but maybe it had something to do with him looking the most comfortable in his skin at that moment. Or maybe he’d heard my silent prayers. Whatever it was, it was best case scenario that this surely awkward moment would at least be with the guy I knew the best of them.
Until five seconds later when it got really weird.
Times Square
Rex tugged us closer and closer together beyond what felt natural. No, not just beyond what felt natural, but into really awkward territory; we were barely friends, and now we were completely in each other’s bubbles.
My heart began to race, and I felt my breathing quicken. I was supposed to stand there and almost kiss a boy. For cameras. In front of a million people—including my father—in Times Freaking Square.
As I endured Rex’s hands tilting my head this way and that as he posed us, I could smell Dave, his faintly cologned and masculine scent mingled with what I could only assume was soap. In the middle of the night chill, I could feel the heat radiating off his body; that’s how close we were.
Keeping my head where Rex had placed it, I risked flicking my eyes up and the corners of his crinkled as he looked down at me. “Hey,” he said, the word so soft it was basically just a breath.
I swallowed. “Hi.”
“Don’t move,” Rex said as he moved away. I couldn’t see what he was doing without breaking the pose, but I presumed he grabbed his camera. “Okay, so I’m going to pull in really tight. We want it to look as natural as possible, so Nessa, why don’t you put your hands on his shoulders to steady yourself. Dave, yours on her waist.”
I gave Dave an apologetic look. His eyes crinkled more. Was he enjoying himself? At least it was him and not Andres, I thought for the millionth time in that span of three minutes.
“Vanessa, relax your shoulders—they’re up around your ears.”
Right, because I’m feeling SO relaxed, I thought but forced my shoulders down, feeling Dave’s lower a bit at the same time.
“Good,” Rex said. “Now both of you keep your heads where they are but close your eyes.”
Why? If they weren’t going to use our eyes anyway... I didn’t want to close them. Even with the sounds all around us—the hustle and bustle of the busiest intersection in the world, even in the middle of the night—the second I closed my eyes, it would all disappear other than this boy in front of me. The one who was almost in my arms.
The one who I was almost kissing.
“Nessa?” my father said. “Rex asked you to close your eyes.”
God, my father directing me on how to almost kiss.
Dave chuckled, his shoulders shaking a little under my hands. “This is awkward,” he said, having already closed his eyes. His eyelashes were brown and regular length—nowhere near as long as Andres’s. Not that I needed to be thinking about anyone’s eyelashes.
Damn. I closed my eyes and felt my lids fluttering like they wanted to open, but I forced them to stay closed.
“Maybe you could try to look a little less...uh, like you’re hating this?” Rex said, sounding amused. And then, when I started to be offended that Dave was hating this and it hadn’t been my idea at all, Rex added, “Vanessa? I’m talking to you.”
More chuckling from Dave. At least he didn’t seem to be offended. Ugh.
“This is weird, okay? I’m not a professional model!” I said, an octave higher than intended.
“Just try to relax,” Dad said. “Imagine that you want to kiss Dave.”
“Not helping!” I yelled at my father, making Dave startle. “Sorry,” I said, opening my eyes and meeting his.
“No apology necessary,” he said. “Let’s just do this, though.”
I nodded.
With an exaggerated sigh, Rex came back and posed us again, bringing us even closer than before.
I could feel Dave’s breath on my lips.
He must have felt mine on his. “Sorry about the coffee breath,” he said.
“Likewise,” I said. “I mean, jeez, they could have passed out mints.”
I was too close to see his mouth, but his eyes crinkled again.
Rex barked out, “Eyes closed. Let’s get this in a few shots then we can head to the park. It’s going to be light soon.”
I closed my eyes and felt bubbles of laughter starting in my belly, but forced them back down. This was so weird.
“Okay, now open your mouths,” Rex said, and then, “No, Dave, not like a fish. Have you never kissed a girl before?”
Dave grunted. And here I wanted to die, I could only imagine how he felt.
“Why don’t you just kiss?” my father said.
I broke the pose to look at him because he had to be joking. “What?”
He shrugged. “Just a kiss, not a marriage proposal. Come on, that would make your movements natural, and we can get the shot and get out of here. The natives are getting restless.” He nodded his head toward Sandy and the group of boys who’d completely lost interest in us and were huddled around the limo, drinking their coffees and chatting.
I looked at Dave, he looked at me. He shrugged casually like it was nothing, but there was no mistaking his pink cheeks. Somehow that was a little comforting, though mine had to be scarlet. Thank God for Photoshop.
“Let’s just do this,” I said because someday I’d get to tell my grandchildren that I kissed a guy I barely knew in Times Square for a boy band photo shoot. That kind of thing would impress grandchildren of the future, I was sure.
Rex stepped up to us again. “Last time I’m posing you two, so let’s do this, all right? Try to keep your heads at this angle to capture the light. Move in slowly and I’ll do a burst.”
“Ready?” Dave asked once Rex moved away again.
“No,” I said, though I was as ready as I would ever be.
I closed my eyes and heard Dave breathe in. I did the same, willing my heart not to pound out of my chest, worried that somehow he could feel it or maybe even hear it.
And then his lips landed on mine, and we froze together. Then after a very long moment when neither of us moved and I assumed Rex was taking shots, Dave exhaled through his nose, his lips twisted against mine, and his shoulders quivered.
“Stop laughing,” I whispered against his mouth. But then I was fighting laughter, too. Nervous, giddy, this is crazy laughter.
“That’s great,” Rex said. “Give me a bit more.”
More? More what? I’d thought this was supposed to be an
almost kiss. We were way beyond almost.
But it seemed Dave knew because then his lips moved over mine, soft but firm, good. Then something was different, wet. The tip of his tongue maybe?
That definitely qualified as more.
Don’t, I thought at first, but then I angled my head a bit and moved my lips, too. It was beginning to slide into place. His hands on my waist flexed, his fingers digging into me a little.
“Got it,” Rex said suddenly. “Thanks, you two.”
The spell broken, I opened my eyes. Dave’s were already looking down at me. The crinkles were gone, replaced by something else. Something weird. Something that had nothing to do with a photo shoot.
Quickly I moved back away from him, removing my hands from his shoulders like he was on fire.
But as I dragged my gaze from him, scared someone might read into what had just happened, I felt like I was the one on fire.
Maximus Broodimus
We packed everything back into the limo, and since we had time before the sun came fully up, we walked the few blocks to a deli to grab some breakfast. I was happy for the walk in the fresh air, still a bit rattled after the shoot and not eager to get back into the car with so many bodies. But as Sandy came up beside me and I knew what was coming, I kind of wanted to crawl into the trunk of the car with the guitars.
“So,” she said, the one word her invitation to spill everything.
I fought the urge to look at her, but this was exactly why I wanted to hide.
When I didn’t say anything, she went on. “That photo shoot was crazy, huh?”
I glanced around, thankful that we were somewhat alone; Dad, Linda, and Rex had gone on ahead to get set up at the park, and the guys were far enough behind us that they wouldn’t hear what we were talking about. Still, there wasn’t much to do other than agree with her, because it had been crazy.
None of it was my doing, but for some reason, I felt guilty about it.
“They should have put me with Dave,” she said, though at least she didn’t sound angry, more like disappointed. “We have so much chemistry.”
You do? I almost asked, but didn’t want to get into it with her. Not again and especially not now. But I’d never seen any evidence of this chemistry and worried that it was mostly, if not completely, in her head.
“Although if it had been me, I wouldn’t have almost kissed him, if you know what I mean.” She waggled her eyebrows at me. “That would have been something to photograph, not this pretend crap.”
I frowned and then it dawned on me that she didn’t know. She hadn’t actually seen Dave and I kiss. I mean, it could hardly be called a kiss since it was for the camera and it was barely more than us pressing our lips together, but she must have been too wrapped up in talking with the other guys to have noticed.
Was I supposed to tell her? It’s not like she had any sort of claim on him. Plus, it wasn’t a real kiss, so even if she had been with him, it couldn’t have been considered cheating in any way.
She must have noticed me frowning at her as I thought all this through because her eyes suddenly widened and she grabbed my arm. “But I’m sure the photos with you will look amazing!”
Did she think I actually cared about that? “Whatever,” I said, electing to not tell her about the kiss since it was nothing. I was sure she’d think I was being stupid even for mentioning it. “Doesn’t matter. It was so awkward.”
“It was awkward with Graeme, too,” she said, smirking at me. “He’s nice and all, but...yeah, that was a bit weird. Not that I don’t like him, I mean, he’s got that adorable British accent. And his voice.” She sighed dreamily. “Can you believe his voice?”
“Right?” I said, glad to have something other than awkward almost kissing to talk about. “You don’t expect it from looking at him—he has sort of a baby face—but then he opens his mouth and bam!”
“Punched in the throat,” Sandy said. “He’s going to have so many groupies. Lead singers always do but he’s definitely going to have masses of tweens drooling over him.”
I nodded.
“Though Darren’s cute, too,” she said, tilting her head as she gave it some thought. “He’s so funny, you know? I’m going to do a vlog with just him where we have lots of funny banter—fans will love that. Did you know he’s so funny?”
I barely knew the guys at all, so how could I? I shrugged.
“So,” she said, dragging the word out to where I knew something unpleasant was coming. Sure enough, she then blurted out the last word I wanted to hear: “Andres?”
“Shhhh,” I hissed.
“I need to know what happened yesterday,” she said.
“Not now.” I had been prepared to fill her in the night before, but when she’d come back with Dad at the end of the day, she’d been so focused on the videos that by the time we’d fallen into bed, it had been late. She couldn’t have gotten much sleep, and I was very much in awe of how she’d gotten up in the middle of the night, full of energy for the photo shoot. I, in contrast, was barely holding it together.
“You’re good, though?” she asked, concerned.
I casually turned my head to make sure the guys hadn’t gotten any closer and then softly said, “I think so. The short version is that he went through a rough time and seems very sorry about it all.”
“So are you going to go for him?” she asked.
I screwed up my face. “What? No!”
She glanced at me and rolled her eyes. “He’s no less hot than he was when you first hooked up with him.” She shrugged. “In fact, I’d bet money that he’s even hotter now. Plus, you’re not going on tour; you’re wide open to date him.”
“Uh, need I remind you I hate musicians?” I said, not touching the part about him being hotter now because the last thing I wanted to do was have to agree with her and I couldn’t truthfully deny it. Not even a little.
She smirked at me. “No, you don’t.”
“Whatever,” I said, not wanting to get into an argument with her on 7th Avenue before the sun was even up. I was way too tired for arguments. Especially ones I wasn’t entirely sure I could win.
“He is hot, though,” she said, an unnecessary reminder.
Not responding, I answered in my head.
Not that she needed me to participate in her conversation. “They all are, of course.” She sighed. “I just...”
She seemed to stall out, making me look over at her. “What?”
Glancing over her shoulder, she leaned in close and said, “I really don’t like Max.”
“Why not?” Though I needn’t have bothered asking. He was so broody, which was attractive on the stage, I guess, but trying to have a conversation with the guy was like pulling teeth. Not that I’d been around him much, but it didn’t take long to figure out he would never win a social butterfly contest.
With how busy they’d been, I still hadn’t gotten his story from my dad, but it was odd that he’d thought Max wasn’t really into being in the band. They must have spoken about it, and Max had obviously decided to stick around. He certainly seemed committed enough, if not overly social. Or friendly.
Sandy shrugged. “He’s just such a downer all the time.”
“Maybe he’s just not outgoing,” I suggested. “He’s got that broody thing going on, but maybe he’s just an introvert.”
“I guess,” she said just as we came to the door of the deli and stopped to look over at me. “And usually I’m all into that smoldering broody thing, but he’s a jerk. I tried to get him to talk yesterday, and he just shut me down. He didn’t want to do the interview; like he looks down on me or something. Not to mention that he always has a sour expression on his face.” She made an exaggerated sad face. “Poor Max. did someone drown your puppy?”
I opened my mouth to tell her to keep her voice down but never got the chance. An arm reached around us to grab the door handle.
> “Puppy?” My heart fell into my stomach as I recognized Max’s voice. “No. My puppy’s fine. It’s my girlfriend who’s dead, though she died in a car crash, not from drowning. Oh, and I was driving the car. Maybe that’s why I always have a sour expression, you spoiled little brat.” Sandy gasped, and I froze in horror, but he went on. “So yeah, how’s that for a juicy tidbit to go in your blog? That’s what you’ve been hoping for, isn’t it?”
Not waiting for an answer, he muttered something about not even wanting to be there, pulled open the door and angled himself between us to go inside while Sandy and I just stared at each other, slack-jawed.
“What just happened?” Sandy whispered.
Two seconds later, before I had a chance to even formulate a response, Andres was there.
He obviously hadn’t heard, though. “Going in?” he asked casually; we were blocking the door.
I looked at Sandy, questioning her with my eyes, because the last thing I wanted to do was go in there now.
She clearly felt the same. “No, I don’t think so,” she said, tears pooling in her eyes.
I glanced over my shoulder and saw Darren, Dave, and Graeme walking up, laughing and chatting.
I looked up at Andres, “Can you tell my dad Sandy isn’t feeling well and I took her home?”
Andres looked between us and then nodded, though he looked confused. “You okay?” he said to Sandy, but without responding, she ducked away from him toward the curb, her hand in the air, waving for a cab.
Without another word, I followed her to the street. We kept our backs to the deli, but I heard my name.
I looked over my shoulder at Dave. “What’s wrong?” he asked, concerned. With all the street noise, as the morning rush hour was upon us, I couldn’t hear his voice as much as see his lips moving.
“Nothing,” I managed, shaking my head in case he couldn’t hear me, and then pointed my chin toward the restaurant. “Go eat. We’re going back to the condo.”
The Rosewoods Rock & Roll Box Set Page 16