Chapter 3 Aurora
AURORA
I stand and stare at the two private jets looming intimidatingly before me.
Excitement and anxiety have been warring for control in my chest, but right now, anxiety is winning.
Not for the first time since this whole thing started, I question my decision to come.
Going on an international tour on a private jet with arguably the most famous rock band in the world?
It was not, and has never been, on my bucket list.
I almost want to laugh. I’m without a doubt the least rock and roll person on this airfield.
Even Uncle Wade is more rock and roll than me, and he doesn’t wear anything except dress slacks and button-downs.
I’ve never seen him in a pair of jeans. Ever.
I’ll probably stick out like a sore thumb the minute I set foot on that jet.
I tighten my grip on the planter in my arms and shift my weight in my ballet flats.
It took nearly half an hour of scrubbing to get the dirt and grass stains from underneath my fingernails.
I definitely should have worn something less.
..Well, less this. One look at me and it’s obvious that I do not belong here.
I resist the urge to tug on the skirt of my dress as the last conversation I had with Brady swirls around in my head.
At first, it didn’t go well. The argument was heated.
I cried. It was so bad that he slept on the couch for three whole nights.
That alone was enough to make me want to walk it all back.
I haven’t slept without him in a long time, and everything about it left me feeling cold and lonely.
Days later, though, he hugged me and told me that he was sorry.
He said I was right. I’d given up everything for him to follow his dreams, and it would be unfair to make me pass up this opportunity right now.
The concession, the apology, had me soaring, but then his reasoning sent me right back down to Earth.
I should do it now because after we have a family and he’s promoted to partner, the opportunity will be gone.
He didn’t say the quiet part, but he didn’t have to. I heard it.
This is my last chance to travel. My last chance to use my degree. My last chance to have something that’s just mine. To do something for me. After this, it’s back to the pretty life he’s planned for us, and the fact that scares me—makes me want to run away and never look back—fills me with guilt.
He loves me. I love him. I’m happy.
“I should go back,” I say under my breath, and I can feel my uncle’s eyes on me. “I think this was a mistake.”
“Is that you talking, or is it fear?”
I glance at him. “Aren’t they one and the same?”
“I don’t think so. At least not the Aurora I know. The Aurora I know would be sprinting up those stairs with a smile on her face.”
My eyebrows slant behind my sunglasses, and I look back at the jet. “That Aurora was young and fearless and na?ve.”
My uncle sighs, but I hear the smile in his voice when he replies.
“You’re still young and fearless, Roar.”
The old nickname turns the corners of my mouth up and succeeds in relieving some of the tension that’s collected in my muscles.
“Young compared to you, maybe.”
He narrows his eyes, but he doesn’t comment on my teasing.
“Mistake or not, you’re here now. Take a deep breath, square your shoulders, and get on that jet, Aurora Jade. You have a job to do.”
“Did you just middle name me?”
My uncle gives me a ghost of a smirk, and then his face softens, taking on an expression that makes my brows jump. He looks so much like my father in this moment, and I hold my breath, prepping myself for something I know I won’t like.
“She’d be proud of you. They both—”
“Don’t.”
I cut him off, my voice calm despite the screaming growing louder in my head.
I move my eyes back to the jet and breathe through the ache his words conjured.
Emotions I prefer to keep buried stir in my chest. I curl my toes in my flats and push my heels into the ground.
My fingers twitch to reach for my necklace, but I tighten my grip on my planter instead.
“Just don’t.”
He’s silent for only a few seconds before his stern, professional demeanor returns, and all traces of the loving uncle and grieving brother are gone.
He checks his watch, and without another word, brushes past me.
I keep my attention on his back as he walks up the jet stairs and disappears into the cabin, leaving me standing alone on the tarmac.
I close my eyes again and force myself back into the present, keeping the past in the past, where it belongs. Where it needs to stay.
“You’re here now, Aurora,” I whisper to myself. “Shoulders back. Chin up. On the jet we go.”
I adjust the planter, take one last deep breath, then force my ballet flats to move until I’m stepping into the luxury interior of the private jet.
I do a visual sweep of the passengers inside. Each new yet familiar face spikes my pulse until I’m worried I’ll pass out, and I avert my eyes quickly.
So much for the calm I’d cultivated.
I’m in a small, confined space with some of the most famous people in the world, and I’m a nervous wreck. When Sav Loveless, the lead singer of The Hometown Heartless, stands and approaches me, I have to bite the inside of my cheek so I don’t gawk.
“Hi, Aurora. I’m Savannah. We spoke on the phone.”
She sticks out her hand to shake mine as if this is just any normal introduction.
As if she’s just any normal person. I might be, but Sav Loveless certainly isn’t.
I’m still reeling from our phone call, but standing in front of her?
It’s surreal enough that all I can do is blink at her—for one breath, then two, then three—before I’m able to shake myself out of my trance.
Thankfully, she doesn’t even blink at how I momentarily short-circuited.
I’m sure she gets it all the time. I release my hold on my planter and mimic her gesture, forcing my hand out so I can take hers in a formal greeting.
Her hand is small, but her grip is firm, and I don’t miss the guitar string calluses on her fingers.
“Hi.” I clear my throat. “Thanks for having me.”
“Thank you for coming. You’re really helping us out by being here, and we appreciate it. Let me introduce you to everyone before we have to strap in for takeoff.”
“Sure. Thank you.”
Sav turns to face the group, and when I do the same, I find all eyes on us. I want to shrink behind her, but I don’t. I hug my planter to my chest and remind myself not to lock my knees.
“Guys, this is Aurora. She’ll be tutoring Boss for a while. She just graduated college and has never traveled before, so help her out when you can. You know how overwhelming this whole thing can be.”
“Wrap it up, Savannah, we’ve got to get in the air.”
Sav arches a brow in the direction of my uncle, then gives him a saccharine smile and gestures in his direction with a sweeping palm.
“Aurora, you already know King Ham.”
She curtsies, and I’m surprised by the urge to laugh. I have to hold my breath to keep it from slipping out. I recognize the way my uncle’s eyebrow twitches. He’s amused but trying to hide it. I was on the receiving end of that expression many times as a kid.
When Sav turns back to the rest of the cabin, Uncle Wade winks at me and makes his way to his seat. He knows I hate being the center of attention, so he’s hurrying Sav along for my benefit, and I love him more for it.
“This is Torren King, Jonah Hendrix, Claire Davis, the little sleeping princess is Teddy, that bald giant is Red, the dog is Ziggy, this is my fiancé, Levi Cooper, and our daughter, Brynnlee—she’s who you’ll be tutoring—and Mabel Rossi is the one wearing sunglasses and big headphones because she finds us all insufferable on long-haul flights. ”
Brynnlee gives me a cautious smile before dropping her eyes to her lap, and weirdly enough, it makes me feel a little better.
I think she’s just as nervous as I am, so I decide to give her some space.
I’ll let her adjust to my presence before I bombard her with introductions and lesson plans.
I need time to adjust, too. I wave hello to everyone else, giving each person a quick nod, but I let my eyes linger a little longer on Mabel, since she’s sleeping and therefore the only one not looking back.
Of all the band members, her image is the clearest in my memory.
Music videos, album covers, magazine rack displays.
I even used to have a poster of the band on my bedroom wall.
The drummer is never front and center, but she was always the first I saw.
There’s just something intriguing about her.
Something that draws my eyes and my curiosity.
Something that makes my stomach tighten and my heart kick up speed.
While everyone else is dressed down, Mabel looks ready for a photoshoot. Knee-high leather platform boots, fishnet tights, a distressed denim skirt, and a pink-and-black corseted top that shows off her tattoos.
My first thought is one of awe. She’s so damn cool.
It makes me feel even more out of place in my cotton dress and vegan leather ballet flats.
Her black-and-pink hair is shiny and curled in loose waves, and I’d bet money that if I could see her eyes, they’d be winged with black liner.
They usually are. I find myself wishing she weren’t sleeping just so I could know for sure.
When my gaze drops to her plush, bright pink lips, she smirks, and my breath catches. I dart my attention to the ground in front of me and try my best not to burst into flames of embarrassment. Guess she wasn’t sleeping after all. Now my heart is thrumming so loudly I can hear it in my head.
“Don’t worry. I don’t expect you to remember any of those names.”
I blink out of my panic and nod awkwardly at Sav, then force a shaky laugh.
“Yes. Okay. Thanks.”
“Savannah.”