Managing The Rock Star (Not So Bad Boys Book 1)

by Emma St Clair

  “I’m going to L.A. in the morning.”

  “I remember. It’s on my calendar,” Morgan said.

  Sterling paused. “Reese is coming with me.”

  Morgan tensed, but her face gave little away other than a curiosity. Reese must not have told her. Interesting.

  “Okay,” she said.

  “Okay.”

  Morgan unfolded herself from his bed and stretched with a forced casualness. “See ya, big guy.”

  Sterling flinched at the nickname, one she had started using back in junior high when she had been taller than him. It bothered him, but she teased him until it didn’t anymore. Or until he got taller and filled out. Closing his eyes, Sterling put his face in his hands. This was all such a mess.

  He was about to head home to surprise his mother and May for an intervention. He was fake-dating his best friend, which was putting an actual strain on their friendship. And he could not keep his thoughts from gravitating toward the woman who was pulling the strings on the whole fake relationship. With all this, Sterling couldn’t decide if the trip with Reese was going to be amazing or an epic disaster. Either way, he was simply excited to spend time with her away from all this.

  Chapter Sixteen

  “You’re not nervous are you?”

  “Nervous?” Reese stared at Sterling, wondering how he could know that just sitting next to him made her entire body go haywire. Was it that obvious?

  It took her several seconds to realize he meant about flying. She began to laugh, drawing attention from other people in the premiere club. Sterling turned his head slightly away from the room. They were seated on two tall chairs at a small table away from the bar. If she was nervous, Sterling was downright paranoid. He was hardly recognizable in a hat and glasses and casual clothes, but he kept his head down when he walked and let Reese do most of the talking.

  They had entered the airport from a back entrance. Apparently even smaller airports had the ability to sneak celebrities inside and through a smaller security and check-in. Then it was straight to this premiere club, which was mostly empty. Though she had been on tour with him for almost two weeks now, this was the first time Reese had really experienced his celebrity perks.

  “No, I love flying,” Reese said when her laughter died down. “I’ve never ridden first class, though, and I hope it doesn’t disappoint. If it does, I might have to switch seats with someone in coach mid-flight.”

  Sterling smirked. “Trust me. You’ll never want to go back to coach.”

  “Are you about to ruin me for flying normally? Maybe this is a mistake. I’ll switch seats before we even board. I’m sure someone else would take my seat.”

  She began to hop off the tall chair and Sterling grabbed her arm, holding her in place as much with his smile as his hand.

  “You’ll do no such thing. I paid for that ticket. I want your company.”

  “Now I feel kind of dirty. Like a friendly escort.”

  Sterling made a choking sound. Glancing around the room, he spoke in more quiet tones. “I know we’re a little sheltered in here, but you still can’t talk like that.”

  Reese felt a jolt as she realized that she had completely lost sight of who she was and why she was here. It was not for a vacation with a friend or a guy she really did—but had to pretend not to—like. Even if this trip was completely personal and not at all about his career, she was still on his payroll. Flirting with him or drawing attention to him in the airport could only end badly. She looked down at her shoes, which reminded her of Morgan and only intensified her guilt.

  Sterling had obviously told Morgan that he and Reese would be traveling together to LA. Morgan hadn’t said anything and tried to smile when they left for the airport. But her eyes had been flat, her smile forced. The whole fake relationship had been clearly wreaking havoc on her. It had brought her feelings bobbing up to the surface where they couldn’t be ignored. Though it was clear that Sterling was choosing to ignore them. Going on this trip with him felt like twisting the knife in her back.

  “I’m sorry,” Reese said.

  She almost fell off the high stool when Sterling touched her hand. “Please, don’t be sorry. I love when you talk to me and joke with me. I just don’t want to draw attention. Not here. And not using words like ‘escort.’ Please. Once I’m recognized, it’s hard to escape and we have a flight and another airport to get through. Now, tell me what kind of flyer you are.”

  Reese met his gaze and wanted to melt at the look in his eyes. It looked tender. And much too intimate. “What kind of flyer am I?”

  He leaned back, taking his hand away. She ached for that touch to stay and had to stop herself from reaching for him. “Do you sleep on the plane? Do you prefer window or aisle? Do you read? Make small talk with strangers? Keep earphones on to avoid that? I want to know how you fly.”

  This was not a deep question. But his interest in even this small thing thrilled her heart. Reese wanted to press a hand to her chest to steady it. Instead, she sat on her hands. “Well, first, I generally fall asleep before takeoff.”

  Sterling laughed and looked at her with wide eyes when she did not. “Before takeoff?”

  “Before. I wake up for the drink cart and order a coffee with one cream, no sugar. Then I might read for a while or journal. There’s something about writing in the air. I love it. Usually I fall asleep again and wake when we’ve touched down. That jolt usually does it. I don’t care about window or aisle, but middle is bad. I usually fall asleep on someone I don’t know, which is a little embarrassing.”

  “That’s … a lot of sleeping.”

  Reese laughed. “I know. It’s weird. Flying does something to me. It’s soporific.”

  “Sopo-what?”

  “Soporific. Like how turkey makes you fall asleep at Thanksgiving. Flying makes me fall asleep.” She leaned closer to him. “I learned that word from The Tale of Peter Rabbit. How about you? What kind of flyer are you?”

  “I’m usually trying to avoid being recognized, so it’s a bit different. Sometimes I read, but I try to remember a card deck. I like solitaire. If I fell asleep, I’d be afraid people would take pictures and I’d end up in Life Talk magazine drooling on myself.”

  Reese giggled. “There are worse things in life.”

  Sterling’s mouth tightened and Reese wanted to take the words back. Of course, there were worse things—like his sister’s intervention that he was heading toward. She put a hand on his arm. “Sorry. That was insensitive.”

  “No, you didn’t mean it like that. It’s fine.”

  He looked down at his drink, a seltzer water with three limes. Morgan had said there was a no-drinking on tour rule. Reese wondered if Sterling ever drank or if there was more than just his sister’s situation that kept him away from alcohol. She thought Morgan also mentioned his dad drank, but Reese wasn’t about to ask that.

  “Are you fine? How are you feeling about this? And if you don’t want to talk about it, just tell me to shut up. But I’m here. I’ll listen.”

  Reese knew she should take her hand back from his arm. It had been there too long. It moved from being just a gesture of kindness to something more intimate. But she was asking more intimate questions and his face still had a bruised sort of expression, soft and wounded. She kept her hand there, feeling the warmth of his skin through her palm.

  He had excused himself when they first got to the airport, ducking to a more secluded area of the lounge to let his mother know he was coming for the intervention. When he had come back, his expression remained dark for several minutes, like he couldn’t shake the conversation. Sterling had told Reese before that his mom didn’t want him there. She didn’t want to press him for details about his mother’s response, but they were still planning to go, so it must have gone okay.

  “I don’t know how I’m supposed to feel. I’m concerned about May. More than anything, I want her to get better. But I’m scared. My mom said not to come. Maybe she was right. I don’t want to m
ake things worse.”

  “Are you and May close?”

  “We were. And then I got famous and she got bullied. She blamed me. It was my fault, even if incidentally. If I hadn’t been famous, she wouldn’t have been bullied. It started a whole avalanche of things in her life that led to this.”

  Reese wanted to throw her arms around him again, to hold him the way she had on that balcony. His pain was almost a physical thing she could see and touch. It laced his words and lined his face and she could feel the muscles in his arm tensing under her fingers. Before she could question the wisdom in it, Reese slid her hand down to his and laced their fingers together. He tensed a little more, then relaxed, squeezing her hand. His gaze stayed fixed on their joined hands.

  She prayed silently for the right words. She didn’t want to say something trite or cheesy or make false promises like, “It’s all going to turn out okay!” That wouldn’t help. And Sterling looked lost.

  “Sterling, I don’t want to say a bunch of shallow things that won’t really help. Maybe she got bullied because of your job. Maybe she would have been bullied anyway. Maybe that’s why she started drinking and everything because of this. Maybe she would have anyway. You can’t bear the weight of all this on your shoulders. You made choices. The people at her school made choices. She made choices. It’s too complicated to boil it down to blaming one person. Stop blaming yourself.”

  He nodded slowly. “I know that in my mind. But it’s hard to really believe it when I feel it. I feel like I’m to blame.”

  “Sometimes the head has to convince the heart. You should tell yourself the truth—and often—until your stubborn heart can hear it: This isn’t your fault.”

  An overhead speaker announced their flight. Reese tugged her hand, but Sterling did not let go. Instead, he looked up at her, pinning her to that spot.

  “Thank you,” he said.

  His words had sounded a little shaky. Reese smiled and nodded. She was about to climb down off her stool, but his words stopped her.

  “One more thing.” He took off his sunglasses and met her eyes, full on. Her heart jumped straight to light speed. “Right now, you do not work for me. Or Azul. This is personal time. Vacation. Whatever you have to call it. Ignore social media.”

  “That sounds … refreshing.”

  “Good. This also means that you can forget all about my, um, fake relationship. That doesn’t exist here. It’s just you and me.”

  For a moment, he held her gaze and Reese simply could not move. Had she tried to tell her body to get up and walk, it would have said no. She was caught completely and firmly in Sterling’s eyes. She wanted to ask him what he meant by “just you and me,” but didn’t trust her mouth to not babble and confess how much she wanted it to be “just you and me” in the more-than-just-two-days kind of way. Maybe in a much longer term kind of way.

  No, she definitely shouldn’t speak.

  Instead, she smiled. In return, he rewarded her with one of his amazing, authentic smiles that had her whole body feeling it. He hopped down from the stool, still holding her hand. But it was too hard to pick up her purse and her laptop bag that way.

  “I need two hands,” she said, laughing. He let go, but as soon as she had her bags, he took her hand again, pulling her to walk close beside him.

  Reese was thankful that Sterling was beside her, not facing her, but he still probably saw the giant grin that spread on her face. The warmth of his hand traveled up her arm in shooting bolts of adrenaline that lit up her skin, sending a flush not only to her cheeks, but to her chest and neck along the way. She even felt it in her ears.

  The night before, Reese gave herself a pep talk, reminding herself that she shouldn’t think about Sterling romantically and that this trip was to support him during this time, nothing more. But it didn’t sound like he had the same pep talk with himself. In fact, it sounded very much like he was saying that they should enjoy this time and whatever came with it.

  They were away from the tour and everyone else they knew. It felt like a protected little bubble and right then and there, Reese redefined her rules for the trip.

  If Sterling moved things forward, she wanted to go where he went. She was along for the ride, whatever that meant and no matter the consequence when the ride ended.

  But even the thought of ending sent an avalanche of panic through her. Because she sensed that no matter what happened, there would be an ending and it would be soon and devastating.

  Lord, in the words of Staci, gird my heart. I’m not so worried about my loins … but just to be safe, guard those too.

  * * *

  Sterling couldn’t believe it. Reese really did fall asleep before takeoff. Even after being as excited as a little kid by the first class experience, bouncing in her seat, touching everything, ordering a coffee before they took off, she conked out while people were still boarding. He had given her the window seat and he thought at first that she was just looking out the window. He had been checking emails last minute on his phone and when he looked back up, she was out.

  While he immediately missed her company and the way her lightness buoyed his moods, this gave him a chance to really look at her in a way that normally he couldn’t. Reese was beautiful in that unassuming, girl-next-door way. Shiny brown hair, full lips that seemed pink without any added color, and long lashes framing her big eyes.

  Reese sleeping was definitely beautiful, but he preferred Reese awake with her vivacious personality. He loved listening to her talk and seeing the way she lit up when she was excited about something. She wasn’t afraid to laugh loudly and often. She also wasn’t afraid to show how much she cared. This whole trip showed that. She and Sterling had known each other for just over a week, but here she was: all in on a plane with him to be there for what would likely be the most emotionally challenging moment of his life.

  There was no one he would rather have beside him.

  Watching her while she slept also meant he couldn’t look at her unique blue-gray eyes. Not that he could stare into them while she was awake either, not without drawing attention to the fact that he was staring.

  At this point, though, he was being pretty obvious about his attraction to her. She had held his hand first in the airport lounge, an unexpected gesture that had both comforted him and sent his pulse rocketing along, but he had been the one to keep holding hers. Even after she let go to pick up her bags, Sterling had laced their fingers together, keeping her close.

  She seemed startled when he told her that this time away was to be just for them. Not a working trip. A personal trip. Had she understood what he meant? The smile on her face made him think she did.

  Sterling probably could have been more clear, but it took enough guts to say those words to Reese, knowing that she could remind him about her job or about the fake relationship or whatever other excuses she had. He thought for sure she would tell him that they needed to stay professional. But she didn’t.

  Their conversation and the touching—all of it felt natural. He couldn’t stop thinking of Moby’s challenge not to miss this shot. He didn’t plan to. Every moment he wasn’t dedicating to his family—which would be tomorrow at the morning intervention and after if needed—he planned to spend focused on Reese.

  She murmured in her sleep and shifted as the wheels lifted off the ground. Sterling could hardly hear the small sound, but he had been paying attention. Her head lolled toward him and Sterling leaned in her direction, hoping that she might fall asleep on his shoulder. But these seats were too big and too far apart. The first time he had ever been sad about the space in first-class seats.

  “Did I miss it?”

  Sterling blinked, realizing that Reese had woken up and was gazing sleepily at him. “Miss what?”

  “The drink cart.”

  Sterling held up her coffee, which he had been holding. “No, but this is first class. We drink when you want. And you already have coffee. Do you want something else?”

  “Oh. Nothing reall
y. Habit, I guess.” She yawned and pulled her knees up in her chair, looking small and contented. “Sterling, tell me about your music. It seems to bring you joy.”

  Surprised by the change in subject, he cleared his throat. The question was not a hard one to answer, but he hadn’t talked with anyone about his music in this way in a very long time. Now that he had “made it,” people assumed a sort of status quo. Like the success meant he had arrived or that he didn’t have feelings or want to talk about music.

  “It does. Or, it can. Sometimes it’s more of a struggle, but I’m always grateful I get to do what I do.”

  “You seem happy when you’re on stage. I feel like I’m watching your very best you.”

  “Thank you,” Sterling said, swallowing down the emotion crowding his throat. He was always in front of people, thousands of people, but in this moment with Reese, he felt like he was actually seen.

  “I wish I had something like that.”

  “Doesn’t your work bring you joy?”

  Reese made a face, then fixed her gray-blue eyes on him. “Sort of? I mean, I like looking at a goal, then looking at the status quo and planning how to move from one to the other. Especially when I get to the end and my planning worked.”

  “It’s sausage,” Sterling said.

  “I’m sorry?”

  He explained to Reese what Riley the sound guy had told him about all the hidden things that went into making sound feel effortless.

  She nodded, her eyes lighting up. “Yeah, sausage. That’s a great analogy.” She groaned. “Except in that analogy, I think that makes me and the job I do the sausage. I’m sausage.”

  Sterling laughed. “I guess it does. Do you not like sausage?”

  “I think it’s just the word itself. Or, the word applied to me. I don’t want to be sausage.”

  “Kielbasa?”

  Reese giggled. “Not much better.”

  “Bratwurst?”