4. Chapter Four - Millie
”What”s wrong with her?” Mike asks Kayla in a hushed voice as I hide a yawn behind my hand. I”ve been distracted all day, and I just can”t get this damn choreography into my head. Why the hell do we need a completely new one if we have our standing dance routines for the songs already?
We”ve been practicing since nine in the morning, and it”s already one pm. Of course, my focus would start to slip at some point.
”I think she hit her head,” Kayla answers him dryly, giggling when she sees me raise my hand to push a strand of hair behind my ear with my middle finger. ”Or I guess she got struck. By loooove,” she adds exaggeratingly, and makes a mocking heart gesture with her hand. I sigh. She isn”t completely wrong, and that bitch knows it. We”ve known each other for half of our lives. Of course, she”d be aware I”m feeling flustered.
”Nothing”s wrong,” I finally chime in, hiding a deep sigh. ”The only thing clouding my brain is jetlag. I”m so ready to continue.”
Mike chuckles at the dry tone of my voice. He knows I don”t like working on choreographies. Once they”re in my head and I”m performing them, it”s fine. But getting there is always a challenge.
Especially when all I can fucking think about are those striking green eyes. And those damn dimples on his cheeks when he smiled at me.
Luca Shepherd.
I”ve seen him in movies before, but the screen does not do him justice. At all. In real life, he”s much taller than I thought he was. The energy he exudes is a lot... more. I don”t know how else to say it. On-screen, he”s one of many actors, but in real life? He stood out. Took my damn breath away, in fact. Among all the A-listers on the teams, my eyes kept wandering back to him, my skin prickling like licks of electricity nipping at it where I felt his eyes on me.
I should stay away from that man. I”ve had my heart broken often enough by guys who underestimated what dating a Siren would entail; they thought I was kidding when I warned them of the degree of invasion to their private life that dating me brings with it. So, I”m going to keep this little crush buried somewhere deep inside me and force myself to focus on the choreography Mike is trying to get me to remember.
It doesn”t help that they”ve set up our practice room right here at the stadium. With not only two mirrored walls, but also giant windows facing the field where the guys practice every single day. There is no direction I can look without seeing the field.
”Hey, princess.” Kayla nudges me playfully. ”Focus.”
”I”m trying,” I grit back, biting my lip. I really am. But the steps he”s showing us are complicated, and I’m tired, and my thoughts are all over the place.
”How about we finish here today?” Mike asks, and without the conscious decision to do it, I tackle him in a hug.
”I”ve been waiting for these words all day!”
He chuckles at the audible relief in my voice. ”Don”t be too happy too soon. I”m seeing you right back here, first thing tomorrow morning, motivated and ready to go.”
”Of course you will.” I nod eagerly and let him go, hurrying to my bag so I can throw on a hoodie and some loose sweatpants over my tight sports attire consisting of a bra and those pants that are so tight they ride up your asscrack. Kayla is right behind me, and within seconds, we sling our bags over our shoulders and wave Mike bye-bye.
”Seriously, Millie, what”s going on with you? Is it actually the guy?” Kayla asks in disbelief.
”It”s nothing.” I clear my throat. “I”m just a bit flustered. It will go away.”
”Sure, it will.” I can hear the eye-roll in her voice. ”How about you, you know, talk to him?”
”I could,” I answer with a shrug. ”Of course, I could. But I”ve decided that maybe I should take a bit of a break from dating.”
”You did?” Her eyes grow wide, and she clasps my shoulder to stop me. ”Why?”
”Because dating me only brings destruction with it.” Another shrug as I evade her eyes and look to the ground. ”The media is on my ass whenever I look at a guy wrong, and it’s exhausting.”
”Ignore the media,” she says, slinging her arm over my shoulder as she resumes walking. ”Fuck them.” I sigh. Sometimes, I want to hit her with a pillow. If it were that easy to ignore them, I wouldn’t be having this conversation with her.
”That”s a lot easier said than done,” I say softly and sink against her, sliding my arm around her hip. Hugging and touching my friends is my love language, but she doesn”t really like it that much. So, I”m always happy when she tolerates it, or sees I need a hug and initiates it.
”When they report on you, it’s more factual, but have you seen what they write about me? They’re tearing me apart.” It”s fascinating, really. We could do the same thing, but for me, it’s scandalous. How dare she? No matter who I’m seen with, it’s a bad thing.
She meets her friends with benefits she’s had a thing with for years? Oh, they’re just friends, it’s fine. Look at this touching reunion. It’s been months since they were seen together. Good for them!
”Right,” she admits just as quietly. ”But you can”t let them dictate your life, Mil.” I shake my head. She doesn’t get it. It’s not me letting them dictate my life; it’s them scaring off anyone who’s getting close to me.
”I”m happily single,” I assure her, quickening my step when we round a corner not to fall behind. ”It”s fine. I”m fine.” If I say it often enough, maybe I”ll actually start to believe it, and maybe that will make it real. ”It”s not like I”m saying I”ll stay celibate from now on, but I won”t go out of my way to date.”
An annoyed sigh falls from her lips, but luckily, she drops it. We”re almost at the parking lot when we hear a chatter of male voices coming from around the corner, bouncing off the plain white walls, echoing like they’re coming from all sides.
Shooting each other a quick glance, both of us let out a deep sigh and straighten our spines, squaring our shoulders. Of course, we know the chance of anything happening to us here is slim, and there”s too much security, but we”ve had some... experiences with men in show business. Now make them a group, and we”re bound to be a bit wary and get our defenses up and running. I’d rather do it a lot of times unnecessarily than once too little.
As soon as we round the corner, the voices fall silent, all the guys freezing in their tracks and staring at the both of us. Well, most of them.
“What’s going on?” I ask Kayla through gritted teeth and without moving my lips.
“I have no idea,” she grits back.
”Hi guys,” both of us greet them, faces stretched in a tight but hopefully not too defensive smile.
After a second of silence, all of them grumble back a greeting. Kayla”s eyes are fixated on a wall somewhere behind them, but I’m apparently a glutton for punishment–a masochist putting herself in the ways of temptation.
I try to look past him at first. I really do. But his moss-green eyes attract mine like a damn magnet. And when they meet, sparks ignite between us, invisible to anyone else.
Well, for all I know, they could be invisible to him, too, and all of this is just made up in my head. But a girl can dream…I look away quickly, pretending my world hasn’t just turned upside down. Once is a coincidence, but twice? Fuck. I’m in trouble.
He”s in the back of the group, almost hidden by a bunch of taller and wider bodies. But the guys around him suddenly scramble, and my heart starts beating nervously in my throat, and I quickly look away, before the intensity of the moment takes my breath away completely.
”You know, Luca, thanks for saving my cat from that river with raging currents last winter,” Tanner, one of the Walker brothers, says way too loudly and way out of context, shooting Luca a thumbs up that I think is supposed to be discrete. His brothers snicker.
”And that one time you took a bullet for me,” Reed, another one of them, adds and hits his shoulder in a friendly way. “Appreciate it, man.”
”Hey man, remember when you did the Heimlich on me?” More snickering. “You’re a real one, man.” My eyes jump between all the men talking, confused. Are they making fun of us? Why are they giggling like fifteen-year-old boys looking at a stolen naughty magazine?
I glare at Asher, who”s standing to the side, shaking his head and looking at the ground like he’s ashamed to be around the others. There”s more snickering, and Kayla”s arm around me tightens. We continue our way past them, smiling pleasantly until their voices behind us fade.
”What the fuck was that?” The question bursts out of me as soon as the exit door falls shut behind us, eliminating the last bit of laughter we’d been hearing.
”I think that was their attempt at making Luca look like a good guy in front of you while teasing him,” Kayla snickers.
“Oh. I thought they were making fun of us, and I just didn’t get it.” My cheeks instantly grow warm. So maybe there’s a chance I haven’t been the only one feeling this? He must have said something if they’re teasing him. ”But... taking a bullet? Raging river? Really?”
We still chuckle as we get into the car and are driven home.
”Hey honey,” I smile when I hear my dad”s voice on the phone, his call coming just as I unlock the door to my apartment.
”Hi, Dad,” I greet him back through a yawn, clutching the phone close as I shuck my shoes into a corner and stride to my living room to throw myself onto the couch. It might look pretty sterile, but what it lacks in design, it makes up for in comfort. It”s comfy as fuck. Among the top five couches I’ve ever sat on.
I sink into the pillows, pushing out a small sigh as I can finally relax. And honestly? I”m not so sure I”ll get up again today. I”m so exhausted from our dance training that I could just fall asleep right here, right now. Well, maybe after my conversation with Dad.
”How”s Philly?” He asks excitedly, and I turn to prop my phone against one of the bazillion pillows on this thing so I can look at his face on my screen without having to hold my arm up.
”It”s nice here. Haven’t seen much of it apart from the car, but what I’ve seen, I liked. How”s England?”
My dad was born in California before his mother decided to move to Washington, where he has lived ever since.
As long as I can remember, my parents loved watching documentaries about other countries, painting those wonderful dream vacations in their head, and even creating a whole travel journal for when they retire and finally have the time to go on all those trips.
Then, when I became famous and the big money started rolling in, the first thing I did was tell them to quit their boring corporate jobs that sucked all joy out of them and go on the travels they”d planned out.
I know they’ve dreamed about visiting Europe and checking out the Eiffel Tower, and my dad, being the history freak he is, always expressed wanting to visit a bunch of historic sights. It took a lot of convincing that I actually make more money than I could ever spend, but finally, they gave in, and now they”re happily spending my money making lifetime memories, and I join them whenever I have the time.
And when I have a break, they make sure to be home so we can spend time together without me having to meet them at the other end of the world. After our last tour, we spent a week together before they left for London, and I had another week left before I had to get here.
”It”s wonderful, but the weather here is even worse than home,” he chuckles and tilts his phone so I can see the clouded sky. ”We can”t wait to join you in Philly.”
”And I can”t wait to hang out with you. Remember to send me a postcard.” It”s become a tradition between us to send each other postcards from wherever we travel. I”ve hung theirs on a wall back home, and I love looking at them. Occasionally, I pick one from the wall and read about their travels. I love how my mom always gives elaborate reports on what they’ve been doing, and my dad usually just writes, “Hi Hun, weather’s great, beautiful country, love you.” It never fails to bring a smile to my face.
”It”s already on the way,” he assures me, and I give him a thankful nod, tilting my head curiously when I hear my mother’s voice in the background. ”I”m supposed to tell you ”hi” from your mom. She”s checking out the wellness features of this fine hotel, or she”d tell you herself.” He smiles as he looks somewhere behind the screen, and his expression tells me that he’s looking at my mom. He always has that dreamy look in his eyes when he does. The one I’m searching for.
”Not in the mood for the sauna?”
”Ah, if only.” He chuckles happily. ”There”s only massages and whirlpools here. She”s off to the former one, and I”ll join her for the latter.”
”And that”s all the information I need or want from you, thank you very much.” I grin and keep my phone steady with one hand as I shift into a more comfortable position with my feet on the coffee table.
”Then tell me about the match. Who”s playing? How is the stadium? Think you can give us a backstage tour when we”re there?” He sits down at what I assume is a table in their hotel room and fumbles with his phone until it stays upright and he’s somewhat in the frame.
I close my eyes for a moment, already picturing it–walking around with the two of them, a bucket of popcorn in each of our hands, and the two of them probably wearing one of our tour shirts along with matching hats. That sounds like a lot of fun.
”I”ll ask Naroa what we can do about the backstage tour. I”m sure we can come up with something.”
”Nice. And the players?” Heat creeps into my face, and I clear my throat as moss-green eyes pop up in my mind, and my heart starts beating faster.
”Solid A-Listers,” I tell him, biting the inside of my cheek to refrain from grinning. ”You”re going to be thrilled.”
”Seriously? That”s all you”re giving me?” He sighs dramatically and rubs his hand over his forehead with fake disappointment.
”Thank Naroa for the NDA,” I let go of my cheek to make way for a grin and grab a pillow with my free hand, putting it under my head. ”They”re announcing all players officially next week, then you”ll know.”
”Cruel,” he pouts, and I can”t help but giggle.
”I knew I”d get revenge for you not telling me what my birthday presents were.” I fake an evil laugh and cuddle another pillow close to my chest. ”So, what are you and Mom getting up to in England?”
He tells me all about their day trips, which sounds like a blast, even with the kind of weather they”re having. They”ve visited all the tourist spots in London, and now they”ve rented a car to drive along the coast and explore the countryside.
”You”re going to have to send me some pictures,” I scold him. I haven”t received any yet.
”Of course, Honey.” He smiles at me, and suddenly, a question weighs heavily on me. Should I ask him?
”Hey, Dad?” I sit up, throwing the pillow I was holding to the side.
”What”s up, Millie?”
I gulp. Am I really asking him about this? Why am I even entertaining the thought of dating Luca? I’ve just told Kayla I’m taking a break from dating.
Because he seems special.
Before I can change my mind, I press out the question, burning at the tip of my tongue.
”When you and Mom got together. How did you know that she was... worth it? Putting yourself back out there and taking the risk of heartbreak?”
My mom is his second wife. A few years ago, when I was in my early twenties, after an evening with a lot of cocktails involved, he was feeling nostalgic and told me about his first wife. How he found out that she”d been cheating on him for almost the whole duration of their relationship and ultimately left her, around the age that I was when we talked.
It’s not quite comparable to what”s going on with me, but I guess the foundation is similar. We both had our hearts broken, though for different reasons.
Contemplative silence fills the line, as his eyes dart around their hotel room, until he finally breaks it by taking a deep breath.
”Loads of therapy, that”s for sure,” he chuckles, and I can”t help but smile. I can cross that off the checklist, although that doesn’t quite eliminate my media problem. ”Honestly, I couldn”t tell you. There was no ”Ah!” moment or anything like that. I had a hunch the first time we met, and the more I got to know her, the more I just...knew. There”s no way to describe it; it was just a gut feeling.” He looks back at me sheepishly. “I guess that”s not helpful to you at all.”
”No, no. It”s very helpful,” I assure him, my eyes dancing over the cream-white and way too-high ceiling. Seriously, how do they heat this apartment in the winter?
”Why do you want to know?” Curiosity is written all over his face and he leans his chin on his propped-up elbow in his established ‘I’m listening’ move.
”Just... for future reference.”
”Hmm.” I can hear the implied ”suuuure,” in his voice, but luckily, he doesn”t pry. For now. ”Well, tell me when it”s referencing.”
”Of course.” I hear my mother”s voice in the background again. ”Well then, have fun in the whirlpool. Don’t get kicked out of the hotel.”
”We will try our best.”
”He brought a damn rubber ducky!” My mother shouts so I can hear it before she starts cackling.
”Excuse you. I brought two.”
”Hanging up now. Bye!” I say, and hurry to click the red symbol to end the call. I love my parents, but I don”t need to know about their bathing habits.
I throw the phone onto the couch next to me. Dad was right, actually. What he said was not helpful at all. I groan and reach for another pillow, cuddling it to my chest.
So what now?
Media aside. In a perfect world where I was a nobody, what would I want to do?
The answer is simple. In a perfect world, I”d go up to him, chat him up, and wait for him to ask for my number. In a perfect world, we”d kiss and ride into the sunset to live our happily ever after.
This isn”t a perfect world, though. It”s a world full of disappointment, pain and unfairness. But a girl can dream, right? I reach for my phone and type his name into the search engine. Nothing might ever happen, but looking at pictures of a beautiful man and quenching my curiosity by checking out his publicly available information won”t hurt anyone either.