7. Río
RíO
Istrip and take a shower, stewing about everything that’s happened to me since Rome. I didn’t mean anything bad at the Trevi Fountain—certainly not something as extreme as being assigned a babysitter. Better yet, one whose sole job is to keep me sober and out of trouble.
Sober? The water drips down from my head. I don’t drink that much!
Do I?
Luke mentioned something about my drinking at the police station. We counted seven drinks that day.
Guess seven is a lot.
I scrub my torso and back, then down my legs. I mentally calculate how much I’ve had to drink over the past week. Shit. Maybe Luke has a point.
I’m not a nasty drunk, though. I remember closing down clubs in Nice, France.
A group of twelve of us were there until three, then we took our party outside to a local park.
No one in the neighborhood complained about the music.
And we all had a blast in the casino in Monaco.
So what if I managed to get a conga line going?
I was only encouraging people to have more fun, for fuck’s sake.
Soap mingles with water and flows down the drain. I wash my hair—which is growing nicely—and give it a good rinse. I’ve never done anything malicious. Unlike Pop, I’ve never set out to bring someone down in order to make myself look better. Or used another person as a pawn.
I give my cock a tug and it hits me. It’s probably been a full day since Pop entered my thoughts. Has to be some sort of record.
As I stroke myself, let my brain wander over the events of the past days.
The call-and-repeat at the Trevi Fountain was epic, no matter what the cops say.
Then the arrest, paparazzi, and Hayden becoming my babysitter.
Even the flight out here and my little excursion into Barcelona today didn’t bring the usual recriminations from my father living inside my mind.
Widening my stance, I grow more erect. The biggest difference between this last twenty-four hours and the last year is Hayden.
I picture her in all her preppy glamour, with her perfect makeup and jewelry.
Her strawberry blonde hair and damn blue eyes—a lighter shade than 007.
Without thought, energy ramps through my body and I come all over the shower floor.
I catch my breath. Nah. Hayden isn’t the reason why Pop left the building. I’ve been preoccupied, nothing more.
I rinse off again, then shut off the water. A drink would take the edge off, but Hayden threw away all the good stuff. I huff, wrap a towel around my waist, and pad into the main bedroom area.
Too amped to sleep, I flop into bed, turn on the television, and flip through the sorry-ass selection of channels, stopping on a crazy game show.
The contestants answer questions and run through obstacles, but as everything’s in Spanish, it doesn’t hold my attention.
My mind keeps wandering to the other end of my suite where Hayden sleeps.
I bet she’s wearing a prim-and-proper white nightgown, buttoned up to her neck.
She probably flossed and brushed her teeth for two full minutes, too.
My fingers itch with wanting to mess up her perfectly ordered world, but I keep them to myself.
Last thing I need is to dirty up my babysitter for sport. No matter how intriguing she might be.
I turn over and close my eyes to raucous game show music.
The next morning, I rouse to the alluring smell of coffee. My body craves more sleep, though, so I toss the pillow over my head and burrow deeper into the bed.
The next time I wake, the scent of coffee lingers. My fingers curl around the phone, which states it’s two o’clock. Good. Plenty of time before I have to report for our soundcheck at four.
I get up and put on a pair of jeans. Knowing my bandmates will be otherwise occupied with willing chicks, I pick up the room service menu.
Before I place my order, though, I guess I should ask Hayden if she wants to join me.
I saunter into the main suite to find her in the kitchen.
“Hey, I’m going to order breakfast. Want something? ”
“It’s well into the afternoon. Don’t you mean lunch?”
I scratch my thigh. “Well, since I haven’t eaten anything yet today, I say it’s breakfast.” I shake the menu in front of her. “Anything?”
She takes the menu from me and examines it. Her pert nose is just the right size for her face. Stop it. She looks up. “Yeah. I guess I’ll have a—”
I raise my palm. “I want two bacon cheeseburgers, fries, a chocolate milkshake, and a beer.”
The menu lands on the island. “Order your own damn food.” She turns toward the fridge. “No beer.”
Huh. Any other woman who spends the night with me would happily place the order. Well, she didn’t actually spend the night with me in the traditional sense. My brain scrambles to reassess. “What do you want?”
“Don’t let me fiddle with your little power play.”
It wasn’t a power play. Was it? Hell if I know. “Listen, I can place my own order. Since I’m going to be doing that in a minute, I might as well order for you.” I repeat. “What do you want?”
“Wow. Because you asked me so nicely…” She trails off.
My hands land on my hips. I repeat for the third time—with a twist. “What. The. Hell. Do. You. Want. To. Eat?”
“Fine. I’ll have a grilled cheese with Manchego and churros. Have you ever tried them? They’re like a donut on steroids. You dip them in chocolate.”
“Can’t say as I have.”
“I’ve read all about them in my books.”
I squirrel this nugget away and place our order—minus the beer—then walk over to the beverage station. “Did I smell coffee earlier?”
“You did. I can make you a cup, if you’d like.”
I study the Keurig. “I think I can manage. Is there cream?”
She nods. “In the fridge.”
I start to set up the machine. “Want one?”
“Nah. I’m good. Already had my two cups.
” While I putter in the kitchen getting my coffee ready, she says, “Might as well bring you up to speed with today’s PR.
You have your soundcheck at four, followed by a meet-and-greet with a local radio station.
They did something a bit different—in order to get in, everyone had to answer some trivia questions about the band. ”
I sip my coffee and add a tad more cream. “What kind of questions?”
“Easy things, like where you’re all from. How UC got its name. Your top hits—in order.”
I shrug. “Doesn’t sound too tough.” Not like the game show I watched last night. Or was it early this morning? “Except for the last bit.”
“You have to remember, we’re in Spain. Only your die-hard fans here would know these answers.”
Hayden has a point. “You’re right. I bet they could even locate Awesome Amusements on a map.” I chuckle.
“Probably.” The doorbell rings. She looks at me. “You have a doorbell? In a hotel?”
“Sure do, Babysitter.” I saunter over to the door and open it. The hostess gives my bare chest the once over, causing me to smirk before asking her to set up our breakfast in the dining room. Might as well use the entire suite. Since neither bedroom is being used for anything more than sleep.
I give the hotel worker a nice tip—although it looks like she would accept it in other currency besides Euros—and she leaves us alone. I bring my mug into the dining room. “Come on. Your food’s getting cold.”
Hayden takes her seat next to me, lifting the dome over her grilled cheese. Her face flushes, and a smile plays around her mouth. She gets excited over the smallest things.
I finish my coffee, then take a big bite out of my first cheeseburger. “You know what would go really well with my cheeseburger? A beer. Or a Gold Rush.” I moan at the thought of my favorite drink.
“You’ll have those things. Later.”
“Like months from now.” I take another large bite of my burger. I don’t remember eating a better burger. “This is really good.”
Hayden nibbles on her grilled cheese. “This is fantastic. I’ve never had Manchego cheese before, and it’s so delicious.” She takes another, small bite.
When I like something, I go all in. Yet, she’s claiming to love her meal? “Then why aren’t you eating it?”
“What? I am.” She nibbles at her sandwich again. “See?”
“I guess I enjoy things differently. I commit.” To prove my point, I finish my first burger in one large bite, and start in on the second.
“People can enjoy things just as much, only in their own ways.”
Her comment brings me up short. I watch her eat her sandwich by inches, claiming to be enjoying it as much as I love these flipping cheeseburgers. Around the food in my mouth, I ask, “You really like your sandwich?”
She nods, and wipes her lips. “It’s amazing.”
She tries her churros next and lets out a moan I’ve only ever heard before when I was naked. In my jeans, my cock twitches. “Guess you approve of the churros?”
“They’re better than I imagined. You have to try one.”
She dips one of the fried dough sticks into chocolate and walks over to me. I open my mouth and she pops it in. With care, I chew the fried goodness. “Damn. That is delicious.”
From her seat, she smiles. “Get your own. I’m not sharing anymore.”
“Sassy.” I like it. To douse this errant thought, I pick up my milkshake and slurp. “This is good too. Want to try?” I hold my cup toward her.
“No way. Not going to dilute these with ice cream.” She scrunches up her cute nose.
Breakfast completed, we decide to wait in the lobby for the rest of UC before soundcheck. Luke’s the only one sitting on the couches. “Hey, Río. Hayden.” UC’s manager nods to both of us. “How are you two holding up?”
“She’s still breathing,” I note.
“Guess I’ll take that as a win.” He motions for us to join him on the sofa. “Did you do anything today?”
“Nah. Went out last night to a lame club nearby. Came back here, watched some lousy television and crashed. On the bright side, though, we just had some amazing breakfast. Right, Hayden?”
“I will say Manchego cheese is my new favorite, and churros are the best.”
Luke chuckles. “Sounds good. And, Río, did you have anything to wash last night and this morning down with?”