The Rosewoods Rock & Roll Box Set
Page 88
“Date on tour,” she sing-songed because she’d heard it before. Many times. But then she abruptly changed gears. “Oh, wait, I almost forgot to tell you. Emmie got us some major press in the Phoenix paper. Her charity, the kids’ organization that got the free tickets, and the band all got great mentions, and they picked a good picture of the guys. I’ve seen a lot of hits on the site from Arizona IPs. Linda said it’s turned into sales from the region, too.”
“That’s great,” I said and was going to ask her if she’d heard from Emmie or any of the others when there was a knock at the door. “Hold on, someone’s at the door,” I said as turned my head toward the front of the house. I hadn’t ordered any takeout or grocery delivery, so it was odd that someone was knocking. My heart sped up, but then I reminded myself that ax murderers rarely knocked. Though estranged mothers probably did.
But having a security guard meant I didn’t have to open the door myself, so I watched as Ken set down his newspaper on the kitchen island and slid off his stool. “You expecting someone?” he asked.
I shook my head.
“I’ve got to go anyway,” Sandy said into the phone. “Enjoy your romantic movie!”
She hung up, and I put the phone down so I could focus on who was at the door, but as I did, I frowned, wondering how she knew what I was watching. As my eyes flicked up to the TV, I shook it off; she probably assumed. Rightly, of course.
I was hidden from the door by the back of the big sofa, so I couldn’t see, but strained to hear as Ken opened the door.
I heard men’s voices, and then the front door closed before Ken’s footsteps crossed the foyer toward me. I quickly turned off the television, suddenly embarrassed at what I’d been watching.
“Who was it?” I asked, figuring it had to be some sort of salesperson.
He lifted an eyebrow. “He’s on the porch. He didn’t want to give me his name but some pretty boy teenager saying he’s part of a boy band? I was going to toss him off the porch thinking he was trying to audition, but he insisted you’d want to see him. He said you knew him from Westwood?”
My mouth went suddenly dry as I stared at Ken for a long second, processing. Because it couldn’t be. Then I grabbed the remote and turned the TV back on and pointed at the screen, thankful it was Zac’s big dramatic scene. “Does he look like that guy??”
Ken looked up at the screen. “Yep,” he said with a nod. And then whistled. “Those abs aren’t real, are they?”
I laughed and switched the television off again.
“What is he doing here?” I mused aloud, not sure what to do.
“Want me to get rid of him?” Ken asked, quite seriously. It was his job, after all.
I stared at him and then shook my head. “No, let him in. He’s fine. He’s a legit member—former member—of the band. A friend.”
Ken nodded and turned on his heel to go open the door.
I launched off the couch, only to realize I was in pajamas. Day-old...no, two-day-old pajamas. Will had seen me in less—like Sandy’s way-too-small bathing suit back in the sauna of truth, but the Cheetos dust and fingerprints down my front was pretty gross.
“Tell him I’ll be right back,” I hollered over my shoulder as I sprinted toward the stairs up to my bedroom.
Ten minutes later, I’d changed into clean clothes, tamed my hair, washed the Cheetos off my face, and had brushed my teeth before I casually returned to the living room.
Ken was sitting at the kitchen island, pretending not to hover, and acting as though his newspaper was the most interesting document that had ever been written.
“Will?” I said as I came around the sofa to greet him straight on. As he stood and looked down at me, an unsure smile on his face, I kind of wished I hadn’t. Seeing him, even only after a few days—albeit long days—nearly made my knees buckle. I should have been mad at him for showing up, but anger was the last thing I was feeling. Maybe later I’d muster some up, but right now, no.
The hair on the back of my neck prickled and I swiveled my head to see Ken openly watching us.
“Let’s go downstairs,” I suggested to Will. “We can play pool.”
As I turned to lead him to the stairs, I took a deep breath and tried to get my heart to stop thudding so hard.
But it only thudded harder when Will closed the door on the stairs behind him, shutting out Ken.
I was going to go for the sofa, but nervous energy had me at the pool table, racking up the balls.
“Nessa?” Will said, coming up beside me and putting his hand over mine on the wooden triangle. “I don’t want to play.”
Frozen and unable to move away, I swallowed hard as I looked at where our hands were touching. “What are you doing here?”
“Well,” he said, taking my hand and turning me toward him. He was too close, but when I tried to back up a step, my butt hit the table.
“Give me some space,” I said, hating how breathless I sounded. Because with him so close, all I could do was smell him and want to bury my face in his neck.
He apologized and backed up a step. He didn’t let go of me, so I pulled away, putting both my hands into my front pockets as I waited for his answer.
“I’m here to do a grand gesture, Nessa. I...” he smiled and looked away. “Someone told me once that grand gestures are important. They show a person what they mean to you and what you’re willing to do for them.”
“You’d better not be quitting the band already,” I said. “That had better not be this ‘grand gesture.’”
He shook his head and turned back to look at me. “No. I know you’d hate it if I did that. It wouldn’t change your mind about me, anyway. About us.”
“You’re right,” I said. “So why are you here, then?” I repeated.
“Because I want to change your mind about us.”
I shouldn’t have been surprised since he was standing in front of me in the flesh, but perhaps it was his words, or, more likely, the way he was looking at me that made my heart ache. I dropped my eyes. “Will...”
His fingers came under my chin, tilting it up, so I had no choice but to look at him. “I was going to come knock on your door and be this super-romantic guy like in a movie. All on bended knee, maybe sing to you at the door. I’ve heard I have a pretty good voice.” His smile quirked up as he blushed a little, which nearly killed me. “But it kind of loses something when your security guard answers. By the way, he was not very receptive to my declarations of love; he wouldn’t even let me sing.”
I tried not to smile at that. And failed.
“Not that you’re being all that receptive,” he said.
I sighed and turned my head, dislodging his fingers. “Are we in the games room of truth?”
He looked around the room. “It appears so.”
Unable to look at him, I closed my eyes. “I want to be with you,” I said. “So much it hurts. I...God...I am just so freaking afraid that you’re going to go on tour and meet someone and fall for her and I’ll be back at school thinking everything is perfect and then I’ll see an Instagram post with you and her and...”
“Nessa,” he said quietly, and I could feel him moving closer, so I had to open my eyes. But the way he was looking at me was too intense. Too much. He was going to wear me down and make me admit feelings I didn’t want to own up to having.
“Don’t,” I put my hand on his chest to keep him from getting closer. But the feel of him, his warm solid chest, of his heart pounding under my palm, nearly melted all my resolve.
He captured my hand and pulled it up to his mouth, pressing his lips to my knuckles.
I struggled to catch my breath and almost felt dizzy. “Is this your grand gesture? Being Captain Romance?”
“Is it working?” he asked, his pupils huge as his lids came down low.
Yes. “No,” I said, but his smile told me he didn’t believe the lie anyway.
He leaned down and then as he still held my hand between us, his lips were on mine. But only for a second, making me want to grab him and pull him down for more.
“Nessa,” he said as he backed away, not far enough and too far at the same time, “I am going to go on tour, but I’m not going to fall for anyone else. I’m going to count the days until I can see you, either at Rosewood when my friends sneak me into a dance or at your dad’s studio.”
Wait. “My dad’s what?”
His eyebrows went up. “You haven’t heard?”
I pushed him back a little; I couldn’t think with him so close. “Heard what?”
“Hmmm,” he said, clearly stalling.
“Heard what?”
“I probably shouldn’t tell you. I think it’s a pretty big secret.”
I crossed my arms. “You also shouldn’t be here in my father’s basement, kissing me. Spit it out, boy band.”
He smiled at the nickname, or maybe that I had let it slip out. “You didn’t hear it from me,” he said, looking at me pointedly until I crossed my heart.
“Your dad said he was going to renew contracts to continue Wiretap beyond the tour.”
This was good news, but not a big surprise. Unless... “Wait. You’re coming back?”
He nodded, his smile growing wider. I couldn’t help it, I threw my arms around him. “Seriously?”
“Seriously.”
I pushed back from him and looked up into his face. “But what about Legion Thunder?”
“It’s just a short tour with them. When that contract is done, I’ll have a few weeks off, and then we’ll probably hit the studio to record the second Wiretap album. Say, around Christmas break?”
Ignoring that he was already making plans for us to get together months from now, I said, “Will, that is great! I’m so happy for you.” I didn’t realize I was crying happy tears until he wiped them away with his thumbs.
He nodded, the right side of his mouth turning up in that sexy smile. “I’m happy about it, too.”
Screw it, I thought as I gave up resisting and stepped forward, wrapping my arms around him. It’s not like he complained, his arms returning the favor and pulling me in tight.
He hummed as he kissed the top of my head and I nearly melted right there.
Until something nagged at me. “But wait...” I leaned back to look up at him. “What about being...superfluous?”
He moved his palms up to my cheeks and kissed my nose sweetly before he answered. “Andy has decided to leave the band after this contract.”
“Really,” I said, but it wasn’t a question because I was hardly surprised.
“Really.” Will nodded. “I think he’d rather go back out on his own. His ego gets too bruised around others.”
I snorted. “You noticed?”
He grinned. “But I don’t want to talk about him.”
“Jealous, boy band?” I asked, loving that I could call him that again—loving everything it meant.
“Nope,” he said, leaning down and brushing his lips against mine in a whisper of a kiss. “I can just think of other things I’d rather do with my mouth.”
“But...” I said against his lips. “Wait. We need to talk.”
He lingered against me for another moment, playfully pulling my bottom lip between his teeth before he backed up a half step. “About?”
It took a second to take a rough breath and sort out what I wanted to say. “Us. How is this going to work?”
“Easy,” he said, holding up his hand and ticking off his fingers. “One, I’m going to love you like crazy.”
I swallowed, hard.
“Two,” he went on. “You’re going to love me, too.”
I didn’t want to, but he made it absolutely impossible not to love him. I took a deep breath and nodded.
His eyes got a little glossy, and he squeezed me a little harder, which told me he hadn’t been totally sure that his big gesture would work until that very second. Which just killed me a little bit more. I mean, seriously: this guy.
“Three: We see each other when we can. You’ll come to concerts—pretending you’re there to see your dad, of course.” He winked at me, and I rolled my eyes. “Or I come to see you when I can, and we make the visits count. We text and message each other so much that the guys on the bus won’t be able to stand me. And when you finish school, maybe you’ll come on tour with me. With your dad, I mean.”
I suddenly couldn’t think of anything I’d rather do, but I said a non-committal, “We’ll see, boy band.”
He smiled then, knowing he had me. “But numbers one and two?”
“You are relentless,” I said.
“Excruciatingly so. Also, very romantic.”
I grinned up at him as I ran my hands up his strong back to his nape. I twined my fingers into the short hair there, tugging a little as he hummed and closed his eyes, arching his neck like a cat being stroked.
I pulled his head down until he was so close he was a blur.
“Numbers one and two? You’ve got yourself a deal, Captain Romance,” I said, right before my lips touched his.
A while later, my butt was pressed up against the pool table, and Will’s arms were around me as he was busy reminding me what a good kisser he was, when something niggled at my brain. Not that he wasn’t practically melting my brain with the way he was kissing me, but...
I leaned back and looked up at him, at his kiss-swollen lips, blotchy cheeks, and messed up hair, loving that I’d done that to him.
“What’s wrong?” he asked, his eyes dark and crazy sexy.
“Well,” I said, cleared my throat and tried again. “Um, we should probably slow it down a little. Knowing my dad, I can’t say for sure that Ken’s contract doesn’t include keeping me safe from teenage pregnancy.”
Will made a face but got the message and reluctantly unwrapped his arms from around me. He backed up a step, raking his hands through his hair, making me want to mess it up again.
Focus, Vanessa.
“Also,” I said, cocking my head. “Did Sandy know you were coming here?”
He tried to look surprised at my question, and then the expression collapsed into one of sheepish resignation. “I may have called her to see if she thought this would work.”
I narrowed my eyes. “That meddling b—best friend.”
He laughed. “Don’t be mad at her.”
“I’m not.” If anything I was going to have to thank her. I just wished I could do it in person because damn, I missed her already. I hopped up to sit on the edge of the pool table, not quite ready to go upstairs looking like we did.
Time for a little conversation. “So tell me, how is it that you’re here? Aren’t you supposed to be rehearsing?”
He grinned at me. “One thing I have learned in my short time with Legion Thunder?”
I nodded my chin at him to go on.
With a laugh, he said, “Those older guys do not go hard core with the rehearsals, especially this far in advance of tour. A, they’re so skilled and know the music cold that rehearsals are pretty much just for my benefit and B, they’re old.” He grinned, but I could tell the ribbing of his new bandmates was good-natured and filled with the utmost respect. “Anyway, they take weekends off. Long weekends.”
I looked at him sideways. “So you’re off today and tomorrow?”
“Till Tuesday, actually,” he said. “Really long weekends. Why? Got something in mind?”
“I do. How do you feel about flying to New Orleans?”
My phone buzzed when the three of us were at the airport counter checking our bags—Will, me, and Ken, who wasn’t traveling with us. He would see us to security, and then Ven or one of the other security guys would pick us up at the airport in Memphis—it was too late to meet the bus in New Orleans, so we were getting ahead of them at the next stop.
I diseng
aged my hand from Will’s and pulled the phone out of my pocket, watching as several texts came in from my dad, Sandy, even one from Chris.
“What is it?” Will asked.
“They caught the girl,” I said, skimming the messages. “The one who stole my phone? It was her who slashed the tires.”
“Really?” Will asked, frowning. “Why?”
I nodded, scrolling through the texts. “Oh God, Sandy says she was trying to delay the band in El Paso and distract the security guys so she could get to Max.”
Will shivered, a sentiment I totally understood. “I know, right?”
“She didn’t though,” he said, pulling out his own phone.
“No. I think Sandy actually figured it out and foiled the plan somehow.”
“So she’s a social media whiz and a badass ninja?” he said, almost wistfully.
“Yes,” I said as I narrowed my eyes at him. “Why?”
His eyebrows went up high. “Jealous?”
“Shut up.”
He put his phone away in his back pocket and used both his hands to pull me into a hug. “If you think for a second that I’d dump you for anyone, then I haven’t done my job to convince you how much I love you. You, Nessa. Will you please believe me?”
“I have abandonment issues.”
He pulled back and looked down at me, kissing me on the lips before he said, “I know. And I hate that I have to leave you to go on tour. But that’s not abandoning.”
“I know. And I’m working on it. It’s just...” I exhaled loudly. “The whole thing with my mother...”
He nodded. “Have you given any more thought to forgiving her?”
I scoffed at him as I stepped back out of the hug. “I can’t forgive and forget.”
Shaking his head, he said, “No one says you have to forget, but forgiveness is a choice you can make. It’s more for you, anyway.”
I ignored that as I turned and thanked Ken before I grabbed my carry-on and started toward security
“Nessa?” Will jogged to catch up. “Don’t shut me out.”
Not bothering to look at him, I said, “Don’t lecture me about my family.”