Chapter 9
Dani and I made plans to meet for breakfast the next day—and I knew the reason why we were hanging in the morning instead of the evening was because of Zack. And that was okay.
Especially because, as the band was walking away toward their next interview, Braden turned back around.
When his eyes connected with mine, my heart started thudding in my chest like one of Dani’s drumbeats.
My hands started shaking, so I clasped them together in front of me, hoping I looked casual.
“I know we haven’t really talked a lot since the interview—but I wondered if you’re free tonight for dinner.”
I tried to swallow as I conjured up their show time in the early evening. “Um…I have to stick around here till at least eight.”
“I probably won’t be free till nine. Does that work for you?”
“Yeah. Uh…do you still have my number?”
He nodded. “I’ll text you later.”
From several yards away, Zack said, “Bray, you comin’?”
“Be right there.”
Nine o’clock felt like it might as well have been forever. Fortunately, I knew my job would keep me busy.
Something I’d thought about but hadn’t accounted for—probably because I was in denial—was the presence of Dean.
I knew MAIMD was performing at the festival but not until the next day.
Because I didn’t want to deal with him at all, I had back-to-back interviews scheduled all that day, so even if he’d appeared, he’d have to stay back.
But I hadn’t made any such plans today.
I’d just finished a quick interview with J. C. Gibson when I glanced up and saw Dean coming from the same entrance that Riot had come through earlier. Although he was looking around, I told myself that didn’t mean he was looking for me.
Of course, my instincts were spot on.
Still, I sat down and focused on my laptop where I was already beginning to outline my story about Zack and crew, hoping Dean would decide I wasn’t worth the trouble.
As I felt him clock my position, I was no longer reading anything I was typing.
Instead, I was exploring my emotions, planning to keep myself in check if I could.
I was happy to realize I no longer had any fear of him—and it didn’t hurt that we were in a public setting.
And, although the stage and backstage were his spots, this tent was my turf.
And, I supposed, I’d have to get used to this. It wasn’t like I’d be able to avoid him, considering our jobs. Better to get this over with now.
As I sensed him approaching, I got in a good head space. And then I looked up and stood. “Hey, Dean. I thought MAIMD wasn’t performing until tomorrow.”
“That doesn’t mean we’re not here. There’s a lot of networking to do. I wondered when I’d run into you. These events aren’t as big as they seem.”
He was just as good-looking as ever, but I knew the man underneath all that—and I planned to call him on his bluff. “Oh. So where are the rest of the guys?”
“Running behind.” Or, I guessed, coming tomorrow. But I wasn’t about to question him. Even though I knew he was full of shit, I wanted to keep our conversation civil and as light as possible.
So, instead, I asked something I might have asked anyone else. “You have any interviews scheduled?”
“Yeah, of course.” Moving up against the table, he placed his hands on it. “Seems like I’m seeing you everywhere nowadays. I read your interview with that pussy Mitchell. It doesn’t seem like he figured out he was left behind for a reason.”
“Did you even read the interview?”
“Didn’t have to. I knew what it would say.”
How I managed to keep my voice calm, I didn’t know. “You’ve been reading all the conjecture from other magazines. My article told Braden’s story from his point of view.” Respectfully, I wanted to say, but I didn’t want to sound defensive.
“I suppose interviewing him keeps you relevant.”
Nope. I wasn’t going to take the bait. So I simply raised my eyebrows, waiting for him to make his next move.
“Look, babe—you don’t have to pretend with me. I know who you really are.”
No, he didn’t. And it took him to say that for me to get my head on straight.
“Look, Dean, I’m working. I need to prepare for an interview I have in ten minutes—so, if you could step away, I’d appreciate it.
” Pausing, I took in a slow breath, assessing my performance.
Yes, I sounded in control and professional.
For a second, a shadow seemed to slide over his face but then he looked like Mr. Cocky Rockstar so quickly I questioned what I thought I’d seen seconds earlier. With a smile that didn’t reach his eyes, he said, “Good to see you, Rox.”
What the hell was that supposed to mean? And what should I say to it?
A simple lie. “You, too.”
And then I sat back down, hoping my body language communicated to Dean that he hadn’t affected me while I prepared for the next musician coming my way.
But, thanks to Dean, my thoughts were no longer consumed by Braden.
Via text messages, Braden and I had planned to meet at an Italian restaurant. He offered to pick me up, but we were staying at different hotels—and I had a rental car. He, instead, was chauffeured around.
Except, for this date, he took an Uber. And I imagined it was because he was trying to keep our dinner under wraps. I completely respected that because we weren’t actually a thing. But there was something there, something between us, and I was grateful he also wanted to talk about it.
After I parked, I walked to the front of the restaurant and found Braden waiting for me. “Do you want to sit outside?”
“Oh, I’d love that.”
Now that it was dark, the temperature was perfect—and the aromas wafting from the restaurant were mouthwatering.
After we were seated and perusing the menu, I said, “I’m afraid this Italian restaurant thing is becoming a habit.
” I glanced around, happy that all but one other couple were inside the establishment, leaving Braden and me to feel almost alone.
In addition to lights hung around the space covered by a canvas “roof,” there were candles at each table, making it easy to see but through a romantic haze.
I didn’t know if that was good or not.
And Braden didn’t help. He was wearing a plain red t-shirt, one that showed off his pecs and gave a slight color to his cheeks. I’d changed clothes but, at a festival, I hadn’t brought anything date worthy, so I wore what I had.
Well…at least I was dressed like a rocker chick.
I wore a pink tank top that hugged my torso and showed off my tattoo sleeves, along with my favorite pair of jeans. I was comfortable and…real. Even the purple streaks in my hair were all me—and that was who I wanted to be with this man.
“I hope that’s okay,” Braden said in response to my teasing. “Italian’s my favorite, and I always like to try new places. I’m hoping to find a favorite restaurant in every city.”
“Aren’t you afraid of getting tired of it?”
Looking over his menu at me, he grinned. “Nope.”
Because it was late, we didn’t order appetizers, instead settling on pasta dishes and one glass of wine each. We talked a little about the tour, but I knew we were both avoiding the one thing we really wanted to talk about.
So, when the server brought our dishes and our conversation turned to the food, I finally decided to bring it up. “Can I…ask you something?”
Braden paused twirling the spaghetti around his fork. He must have heard it in my voice. “Yeah, sure.”
“Is it just me? I know…we talked about not doing a one-night stand—but I feel like…”
“There’s something there that’s hard to ignore.”
“Yeah. And maybe…” But my voice drifted off, because it was hard to talk about something invisible and yet so tangible, especially when I got the feeling that Braden was far more cautious than I.
“It might be easy to test,” Braden said, agreeing with what was maybe my underlying hope amidst uncertainty, “but I already decided no flings. Cy tried to talk me into it. He said his dad told him the best way to get over a girl was to have sex with a new one every night until the pain was gone. But that’s just not me. ”
Nodding, I said, “I get that.”
“I’m not like a lot of the guys I know in that regard.”
As much as I hated to say it, I had to. “So maybe we just stay friends and be happy with that?”
“Or…we just let things progress naturally. Honestly, I’m not ready for anything. I don’t know…”
Holy shit. This poor man. The cancelled wedding had happened over a year ago—and he was still in mourning.
I also saw an overwhelming abundance of caution.
But that was probably good for me as well.
Unlike most of the guys I’d ever wound up with, I knew Braden was a good one.
There was plenty of evidence to prove it.
And maybe just friends would be a good thing—because I didn’t want a fling either.
So I nodded and we ate in silence for a bit.
Although the only background I knew about Braden was his relationship with Dani and I knew that didn’t completely define him, I wasn’t going to dig for more information. That was my journalistic tendency, but I wasn’t going to make Braden talk about anything that might be uncomfortable.
So I decided to talk about myself.
“I think I told you about my first boyfriend and figuring out what I wanted to do with my life.”
“Yeah.”
“Well, I wish I could tell you Matt was my only mistake—but he wasn’t. I’m not a good judge of character, I guess.”
“I don’t think that’s true, Roxy. I read a lot of what you write, and you seem to be pretty good at figuring out who people are at the core.”
He wasn’t wrong. “Then what’s with my blind spot? I am good at reading people and getting to know them through interviews and stuff, but why is it I can fall for a guy before realizing who he really is?”
Braden seemed to ponder it as he finished chewing a piece of garlic bread. “Did you ever think maybe it’s not you?”
“What do you mean?”
“Maybe these guys are pretending to be something they’re not—until later.”
Jesus. “I think you’re right. Uh…like with Dean.
I was with MAIMD for a couple of weeks on the tour for their second album.
With rock stars, I try to maintain a professional distance because I know having a fling could seriously damage my reputation—so I did.
But Dean laid it on thick. He was funny, charming, masculine—and he flirted with me all the time.
I found myself falling for him and finally agreed on a date.
And that became a relationship. But you’re right.
Once we started dating, he became a totally different guy. ”
“The first guy you saw was an act.”
“Yeah. He definitely wore a mask, pretending to be someone he wasn’t.
” But how stupid that I hadn’t seen it? I’d fallen for his act completely.
Maybe what had worked in his favor was that, had I chosen any of the guys in that band, it would have been the frontman—so Dean’s onslaught took me off guard.
“But you did the right thing. You ended it.”
We were silent for a little bit, long enough that I caught the strains of piano overhead.
“He came up to my table today.” I wasn’t going to tell Braden the disparaging things Dean had said about him, trying to get under my skin.
His remarks weren’t worth repeating. “And you’re right.
It was like, after taking off his mask, I’d never again not be able to see who he is underneath it.
I think maybe he was trying to see if he still had a pull on me. ”
“You’d think he would have moved on by now.”
“Yeah…I hope he will. I finally had to block his number.”
“Good.” Braden’s eyes at that moment were like molten lava, burning into my soul. “You’re worth way more than him.”
Somehow, it meant more, knowing that Braden believed it.