12. Hayden
HAYDEN
Irouse, becoming conscious of being comfortably warm. This has to be the best night’s sleep I’ve gotten since I joined UC on the European leg of their tour. My eyes blink open.
Directly into brown ones.
I startle and push away. Sometime during the night, we must’ve ended up together. Río smiles and pulls me against his naked chest again. At least I can feel material on his legs. “I usually get a different reaction from the ladies when they wake up next to me.”
His words sink in as I try, unsuccessfully, to put distance between us. “I bet.” My voice is muffled against his skin. This is already more than it should be. My job. Mila. Everything waiting for me at home. Yet, I’m still here.
His hand skims down my back as I ensure that our lower halves are separated. No need to know, for sure, if Río wakes up with morning wood.
He croons, “How did you sleep?”
“Really well.” My head lolls backward. “You?”
“Me too.” The corners of his eyes crinkle when he smiles. “Must’ve been the altitude.”
“Yeah.”
“Thanks for loaning me your t-shirt. I promise to wash it and get it back to you.”
“No rush. Actually, you might as well keep it. It’s not like I wear all that many shirts anyway.” He licks his lips. “What should I expect at this awards ceremony?”
“I don’t know too much, but I did some research into the Philadelphia Drummers Society. The society has been around for over one hundred years. They’ve given out awards to some amazing drummers, like Phil Collins back in the day, and Dave Grohl.” I pause. “Before all the baby drama.”
“Serious chops, for sure.”
“Like you have. I’ve been watching you at UC concerts—you definitely deserve this award.”
“Thank you.” Río strokes my back a few more times. “Did you hear from Pop?”
“Not yet.” Since he didn’t ask, I’m not about to volunteer information that I gave his mother his phone number. No need to stir up that hornet’s nest. Besides, his parents’ divorce sounds like it was horrible.
“He’ll be there. This is too good of an opportunity for him to pass up.”
His voice contains an undercurrent of disgust … and wistfulness? “If he does come, how do you want me to handle things?”
Río pushes against the padded headboard, and I follow suit, careful to make sure the blankets stay at my waist. “The less interaction I have with him and the Stepwitch, the better. When I lived at home, after my stepsister was born, I was treated as unpaid labor. They’d always tell me to watch her while they went out.
I had a list of chores a mile long.” His head shakes.
I try to lighten the mood. “Sounds like you were their ‘Cinderfella.’”
“Basically.” He pushes the blankets down using his legs, and I grab my section to keep the lower part of my body protected.
He beats a rhythm on top of his thighs, mercifully covered by sweats.
“I learned the only way to get Pop’s attention was to act out in school.
When the principal called, he had to pay attention to me. ”
My fingers find his arm. “If I had known how terrible it was for you growing up, I never would’ve invited him to come. Please believe me.”
He squeezes my hand. “I know you didn’t mean to stir up a hornet’s nest.”
The pilots come over the loudspeaker, letting us know we’ll be landing in about thirty minutes.
The air lies heavy over me as I process how terrible this awards ceremony could be for Río. I have no idea how to make this better. “Guess I should put my clothes back on,” I remark. Ensuring the t-shirt remains to my knees, I get out of bed and collect my dress. “I’ll only be a few minutes.”
“Don’t worry. I’ll use the bathroom out there.” Using his thumb, he points to the door.
As quickly as I can, I use the facilities and wash my face. As I’m putting the dress he bought for me in Barcelona back on, I replay everything he’s told me. His parents were awful to him. Sounds like his father was rich, so I bet lots of kids treated Río differently because of that as well.
Yet, all he wanted was to be loved.
I remember our lunch in Barcelona, where people swarmed him like he’s a novelty.
Certainly not a man. I get the impression he’s constantly searching for ways to make others happy, which backfires when the fans get out of hand and the media intervenes.
My heart lurches. Beneath all of his bluster, Río’s a softie.
I return to the main part of the plane and retake my seat.
As we continue our initial descent, a new email arrives—gotta love free wireless when flying private.
However, this one’s from Bradley Sullivan.
Río’s father. Of course, he accepts the invitation to tonight’s Awards ceremony.
He’s bringing his wife as his plus one. My stomach flips, and not from turbulence.
Great. Can’t wait to share this with Río.
The drummer returns to his seat next to me and buckles up. He’s now wearing another pair of dark wash jeans and a long-sleeved T. “What do you want to do in Philly before the ceremony?”
Deciding against telling him about the email, I realize I feel well rested and ready to explore. “I don’t know. What do you suggest?”
“There’s the touristy things like the Liberty Bell and Rocky’s Steps.”
Where crowds of people will swarm him. I’m not even thinking about my pledge to keep Río out of trouble. No. My sole focus has shifted to making this talented drummer happy. Something I fear has been in short supply during his life.
I wave my hand. “Those are so touristy. Do you have any special place you’d like to visit while you’re in your hometown. I’ve checked, and the media is unaware you’re here, so we may be able to go unnoticed.” I hope.
“Well, there is one spot I have a hankering to visit.” His head shakes. “You’re going to think it’s dumb.”
Somehow, I believe his ask comes from deep down within him. “You deserve to do whatever you want.” I smile. “As a reward for your good behavior.”
His eyebrows jump. “I have been pretty damn good lately, haven’t it?”
“Alright. Let’s not push it.” I smack his upper arm. Which is rock hard. “Where do you want to go?”
He holds up two fingers. “Your choice. One, Amazing Amusements.”
It takes me a second to pinpoint this place. “The amusement park where UC got its start.”
He nods and raises a second finger. “Or, we can visit the best place for Philly cheesesteaks. Damn. I’ve missed them.”
My mouth waters. “While the thought of spending time with you riding rollercoasters is really enticing, my stomach is totally on board with your cheesesteak idea.”
He beats his lean torso. “You got it.”
Guilt niggles. “Are you sure? I mean, you haven’t been back to Amazing Amusements in how long?”
His gaze darts around the cabin. “It’s been a while. But, I don’t think I should go without security.” He pauses. “And the rest of the band.”
His mention of security hits me between the eyes. “You’re right. There’s no way you can go there without prior warning to the company. I don’t know why I didn’t think of that before,” I fret.
Río leans over. “Score one for the drummer over a PR guru.”
The suave tone of his voice, combined with his utter smugness, make my head shake. “Fine. I’ll give you this one.” I hold up my index finger. “One. Don’t let it go to your head.”
He runs his hands through his blond hair, causing my fingers to tingle. Tingle? “I’ll try to keep myself in check. Or you can do it for me.” He wiggles his eyebrows.
Warning bells go off. It’s best to back away from where this conversation’s heading—way too dangerous—so I cloak myself in work. “Remember, you better not cause a stir at the restaurant. No more riots.”
He traces an imaginary halo above his head. “Trouble finds me, not the other way around.”
This guy is much too endearing for his own good. Super talented. Funny.
Get a grip—he’s a trainwreck waiting to happen. An entitled one at that. I sit taller. “You’re not to encourage anyone, do you hear me. Or, better still, we could order in.”
He pulls deeper into the leather seat. “Sacrilege. No, we’ll go to the restaurant and eat cheesesteaks like proper Philadelphians.”
A new thought pops into my mind. I presume his parents’ place is out of the question, given all he’s told me. “Alright. And where do you want to stay the night? Do you have a house in town?”
“No. My house is in LA. We can get a hotel room.”
I comment, “Just like on tour.” Which serves as a good reminder—Río is the exact opposite of me.
He lives in fancy hotels, while I call a one-bedroom apartment home.
It means nothing to him to dole out hundreds of dollars for a dress.
We’re from different solar systems. Doesn’t matter that I’m really enjoying getting to know the man beneath the drumsticks.
I pick up my cell. “I’ll get right on it.”
The fact that he doesn’t offer to make the reservations confirms his entitled status. Don’t forget this truth, Hayden.
“While you’re doing that, I’ll get us a car service. I can’t wait to show you how incredible an authentic Philly cheesesteak can be.” He rubs his hands together before picking up his own phone.
Shortly, the plane lands. We’re escorted onto the tarmac and into a waiting black SUV. After an eventful ride with more traffic than I believed possible, we pull up to a small restaurant. Given it’s only eleven in the morning, the parking lot only has a few cars.
I give him a stern glare. “Remember, don’t make a scene. You can take any photos fans request, but no more call-and-repeats.”
He salutes me. “Gotcha, Captain Babysitter.” The driver opens the door. “Follow me.”
Río slides out of the vehicle and turns, offering me his hand. I take it and am pulled onto the street. The building in front of me looks well cared for, if not a bit old. “You’re sure this place has the best cheesesteaks in the entire city?”
“Without a doubt.” He offers me his arm, but I refuse it in case a fan lurks around the corner.
His brown-eyed gaze lingers on me for a second before he shrugs and leads the way to the front door, which he opens. “May I at least hold the door for you?”