Chapter 13
Nothing good ever starts with notifications.
Addy
M y phone beeps with a message. I groan before burying my head under a pillow. I’m not ready to wake up. Let alone get out of bed.
When I got home last night with Rogue, my sisters went crazy.
Mila wanted to cuddle him, whereas Penelope wanted to experiment – something about washing its food – on the poor raccoon.
They fought until Otis yelled at them, which scared Rogue.
He ended up hiding under the sofa. Guess who spent an hour coaxing him out of there?
Mayor Mandy showed up just after midnight and I gladly handed the raccoon over, as is the tradition. As much as it’s tradition to steal the mascots on Smuggler’s Hideaway, everyone is expected to return the animals when asked.
My phone beeps again and I throw the pillow across the room before sitting up and snatching the annoying noise-making device from my bedside table.
Good morning, songbird .
Warmth spreads throughout my body. Gage . I shouldn’t have kissed him yesterday. But I can’t find it in myself to regret it. Not when fireworks explode in my stomach every time I remember how it felt to have his lips on mine. His body pressed to mine.
Too bad Rogue threw up on him. Who knows how our night would have ended?
I start to reply to Gage but another message pops up before I get the chance.
Your Reel is taking off! 100,000 people have watched your Reel in the last hour.
My reel? I didn’t post any video on social media. Crap on a pirate’s cracker. I must have gotten hacked.
I sit up in bed and open the app. Should I just delete my account? I hate to delete my account. I use the app to keep in touch with people from high school who’ve moved away. But maybe—
All thoughts of deleting the app come to a screaming halt when I click on my notifications. I might get one or two notifications a day. Not twenty plus. I scroll through them.
Holy mermaids swimming at the dock. There aren’t twenty notifications. There are hundreds. Some hacker really messed with my account.
Hold on. All of the messages relate to one reel. What reel? I didn’t post one.
If Mayor Mandy posted a reel of me stealing Rogue, she’ll have more to worry about than a marshmallow-obsessed raccoon with a stomachache.
I click on the reel. The music plays and I gasp. This isn’t some famous song I’ve heard a million times. It’s my song.
It’s not just my song. It’s me. Singing at Bootlegger during Mermaid Karaoke . What in the name of pirates? I didn’t post this. But who did?
I squint at the bottom of the reel. @RunItGage posted this video. RunItGage better not be who I think it is.
I click on the image of a football helmet with the Seals logo.
Gage Edwards. Running back. Professional yard-getter. Not afraid of a fourth down.
I throw my phone on the bed. Gage is trying to control my life again. Just when I think I can trust him, he pulls another stunt to prove he’s untrustworthy. I should know better by now.
My bedroom door flies open before Mila and Penelope burst inside.
“Did you see?” Mila asks.
“It is quite remarkable. I believe you are viral,” Penelope adds.
I fall back on my bed and cover my face with a pillow. “I don’t want to know.”
The pillow is yanked away. “Why not? I thought you wanted to be famous.”
I glare at Penelope. “I don’t want to be famous. I want to be a songwriter.”
Her brow wrinkles. “Aren’t the two the same? ”
“Who cares?” Mila climbs on the bed and starts jumping up and down. “My sister is famous! And she’s dating a famous football player!”
“I’m not dating Gage.”
“Why not?” Otis asks as he enters my room. I guess my bedroom is now Grand Central Station. Maybe I should charge an entrance fee.
I snort. “As if I have time to date between the three of you, working at Five Fathoms, and my music.”
He shrugs. “I could do more around the house.”
“Penelope! Mila! Otis!” Mom shouts before rushing into my room. “Sorry, Addy. I didn’t realize they were in here. They shouldn’t have woken you up.”
“But she’s famous, Mom!” Mila screams, and I cringe. The girl has some lungs on her.
“I don’t care. Mila, Penelope, you have summer school. Otis, you have practice.” She claps her hands and motions out the door.
Unlike when I tell my siblings what to do, they actually listen to Mom. Once they’re gone, she shuts the door.
“Are you okay?”
My brow wrinkles. “Why wouldn’t I be?”
She studies me for a moment before nodding. “I’ve got a short shift today. I’ll take the kids to school this morning and pick them up this afternoon. Enjoy your day off.” She waves as she hurries away.
I’ll certainly enjoy giving Gage a piece of my mind. Who does he think he is ?
I reach for my phone to message him but stop. This dressing down should happen in person. Not over the phone. I’m not letting him hang up on me.
An hour later, I’m marching into the Hideaway Haven Resort. I aim for the elevators to the rooms but come up short when I realize I don’t know his room number. I don’t even know if he’s in his room. For all I know, he’s at football practice.
What do I do? Do I message him to ask him for his room number? Yeah, no. I don’t want him to think I’m here to seduce him. I’m not a football groupie.
I scan the opulent lobby for ideas. My gaze catches on a sign for the gym. Aha! The gym is an excellent place to begin my search.
A two-minute walk brings me to the gym. There are several women standing in the hallway watching through the glass. I shove past them to the door.
I stomp inside. My gaze immediately lands on Gage running on the treadmill without a shirt on.
I take a moment to appreciate his tan skin, his hard muscles, the way the muscles in his legs bunch with every step he makes.
“Gage Edwards!”
Gage glances over his shoulder and spots me. He hits stop on his machine before jumping off and making his way to me.
I fist my hands on my hips. “I cannot believe you!”
Tanner dances behind him. “Someone’s in trouble.”
Gage steps toward him but Nolan rushes to stand between them. “No fighting. In fact.” He whistles. “Everyone out. ”
There are moans and groans, but the other players listen to Nolan as he herds them out of the gym.
Once we’re alone, Gage grins. “Hi, songbird. I didn’t expect to see you today.”
I rear back. “You didn’t expect to see me today, or you were hoping I wouldn’t find out what you did?”
He scratches his neck. “What I did?”
I poke him. “You posted a video of me singing on social media without asking for my consent.”
He reaches for my hand but I slap his hand away. “You’re mad I posted the video from Bootlegger ?”
“What was your first clue?”
“The smoke coming out of your ears.”
“This is not funny.”
He sobers. “Sorry.”
“How do you expect me to ever trust you again? You claim you’re not trying to run my life or control me and then you go and post a video of me online.”
“Hold up. Have you actually watched the video?”
I throw my hands in the air. “I didn’t need to! I was there.”
“Songbird, the video isn’t about you.”
“Not about me?” My jaw is beginning to hurt from how hard I’m grinding my teeth. “It’s a video of me singing. How is it not about me?”
He holds up a finger. “One sec.”
He jogs to the treadmills and picks up his t-shirt and phone. He puts on his t-shirt and I don’t miss the view of his muscles. Nope. Mr. Life Controller can have as sexy of muscles as he wants. It doesn’t matter to me.
“Watch the video all the way to the end.” He tries handing me his phone but I don’t move.
“I am not watching the video. I saw enough.”
He sighs. “You obviously didn’t see enough.” I narrow my eyes and spit daggers out of them at him. He doesn’t bleed or fall to his death. My daggers must be malfunctioning.
“Songbird, listen to me. I’m famous.”
Does he think he’s helping his cause by claiming he’s famous? He’s not. “La-dee-da for you.”
He cringes. “I’m not a celebrity or anything, but I’m well known. My agent insists I post on my social channels once a day. Daily posting is part of my sponsorship contracts.”
A bit of my ire falls away. “It is?”
“Unfortunately. I honestly didn’t think this would bother you. I posted a video of a group of us at Bootlegger the other night. You were singing in the background.”
“In the background?”
“Here.”
This time, when he offers me his phone, I accept it. The video is already cued up and I click play. The video begins with Gage and his friends entering the bar. He pans the room until the stage comes into view. There are a few seconds of me singing before the camera moves away.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t watch the whole video before.”
He smirks. “I know how you can make it up to me. ”
I narrow my eyes. “I’m not cleaning the puke out of your clothes from yesterday.”
“No need. I threw those clothes away.”
“Phew. Because they stank.”
“Why don’t you spend the day with me?”
“I should…” I trail off since I have no idea what I should be doing today. It’s my day off, and I don’t have to watch the kids since Mom is managing them today.
“We’ll hang out on the beach. Have fruity drinks with umbrellas in them. It’ll be fun.”
A day on the beach, ignoring my responsibilities, is my idea of heaven. But I can’t give in too easily. I can’t let Gage think he has any control over me.
“Fine.”
He grins. “Fine?”
I nod and he lifts me in the air with a whoop. “This is going to be awesome!”
Awesome isn’t the word I’d use. A day on the beach with Gage topless? Maybe awesome is the correct word after all.