Chapter 1 #2
The fact that Oliver effing Perry was in my bedroom kept me from understanding the question at first, but based on the tone of his voice—serious but with a hint of sympathy—I realized he wanted to know about my health.
“I’m still in remission if that’s what you’re asking,” I replied as I watched him try to move the colors into their proper places, his slender fingers twisting the different rows back and forth.
“That’s awesome. It must be such a relief for you.”
Hardly, I almost replied, but that wasn’t the answer people wanted. They expected to hear all about how happy I was and how life was such a gift, blah, blah, blah.
“Yeah, for sure,” I said before quickly changing the subject. “How’s the tour going?”
“So far, so good. Latin America and Asia went well, but our North America leg is the longest, so I’m sure there’ll be bumps along the way.
After that, we have the rest of the world, so who knows what will happen.
The tour doesn’t wrap until mid-August, but after that…
” Oliver trailed off as something over my shoulder caught his attention.
I craned my neck, following his gaze, and instantly knew what he was staring at.
An entire wall of my bedroom was covered with magazine clippings and posters featuring the Heartbreakers. When you first saw it, the collage could be a bit overwhelming, but over the years, I’d grown so used to its presence that most of the time I forgot it was there.
To say I was a big fan was putting it mildly.
I knew almost every public detail about all four members of the band—besides Oliver, there was Alec Williams, the bassist, Xander Jones, the lead guitarist, and JJ Morris, the drummer—down to each guy’s favorite food and birthday.
Stella always called me stalker-level obsessed, but I preferred the term expert.
For the most part, the general public thought the Heartbreakers were just another cheesy boy band.
Even worse, they thought their fans were airheaded, hormonal teenage girls who only liked the band because all the guys in it were hot.
Which, duh. Obviously that was a contributing factor, but what haters didn’t understand was that our love stemmed from so much more than appearance.
The Heartbreakers were a worldwide phenomenon because of the way they made their fans feel: understood, accepted, cherished.
Their music came into my life at a time when I needed it most, and it inspired me not to give up.
When I felt ugly, listening to their lyrics reminded me I was beautiful.
When I felt down, watching a YouTube video of the guys goofing off lifted my spirits.
In the past, I’d have happily shouted my love for the Heartbreakers from the rooftops. It was easier when they didn’t know who Cara Samuel was. To the world’s most popular band, I was just another nameless fan.
Things were different now that Stella was dating Oliver.
As I turned back to Oliver, a hot, tingling sensation worked its way up my chest and neck. My cheeks were probably red, but I lifted a brow, daring him to mock me.
He didn’t. His lips twitched with the suggestion of a smirk, but instead of laughing, he slowly shook his head. “Sometimes I forget how different you and Stella are.”
“Meaning?”
“She wouldn’t be caught dead with a poster of me on her bedroom wall.”
“Yeah, well, what can I say? My sister has terrible taste in music. She mentioned you guys are working on a new album though, right?”
Oliver nodded as he turned his attention back to the puzzle in his hands. “Xander and I already cranked out five new songs. We’ll probably start laying down tracks during our days off once we’re on the road again.”
“Xander?” I repeated. “Since when is he a songwriter?” To the best of my knowledge, that position had belonged solely to Oliver since the band’s formation.
“It’s a relatively new development, but he has a knack for lyrics. He just released a new single featuring Violet James that’s blowing up the charts right now.”
“The actress?” I asked.
“Uh-huh. It’s about his girlfriend, Violet’s little sister.”
Hold up. Xander Jones had a girlfriend? And she was related to the lead from that weird vampire show? How in the world had I missed all that? Apparently I was off my Heartbreakers game.
“Wow,” I replied. “That’s awesome.”
“Yeah,” he said, twisting the Rubik’s Cube one last time before giving up and tossing it aside. “It’s great having someone to bounce ideas off, but enough about me.” One of his dimples made an appearance as he smiled in my direction. “What have you been up to now that things are better?”
I gave a half shrug. “Honestly? You’re looking at it.”
“That’s it?” His question was delivered casually, but it still struck deep.
My entire body went stiff. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Nothing,” he said, holding up his hands. “Guess I thought there’d be a million things you’d want to do.”
I dropped my gaze and held back a sigh.
It wasn’t that I didn’t want to be doing a million things.
Even though I was almost twenty years old, there were so many life experiences I had yet to have.
I’d never been to a high school dance, never snuck out of the house, never worked a part-time job.
I hadn’t even dated a boy before, and the only place I’d visited outside the Midwest was Disneyland and the beach house my aunt and uncle owned in South Carolina.
There was so much life to be lived, but what was the point of making plans for someone like me?
* * *
People—friends, family, that one random chick my mom forced me to invite over for a sleepover in sixth grade because we were partners for our science fair project—always assumed I was a morning person because I was the energetic, perky type.
They were dead wrong.
I would never be a wake-up-with-the-sun-and-sing-with-the-birdies-because-life-is-just-oh-so-wonderful kind of girl.
Needed me up at eight? Forget about it. Any time before then was the crack of effing dawn. My standard rise and shine typically ranged between ten and noon. Today, however, I was lured out of bed before then by the mouthwatering smell of pancakes, bacon, and coffee.
Normally I could sleep through my family’s routine, but this morning?
Not so much. I’d spent all last night tossing and turning.
Something about my conversation with Oliver bugged me, but I couldn’t put my finger on what.
Knowing I had no chance of falling back asleep and not wanting to miss out on breakfast, I groaned and threw my covers off.
I pulled on a robe and jammed my feet into my fuzzy alligator slippers, then dragged myself downstairs to the kitchen.
“Well, isn’t this a surprise?” Drew was leaning against the counter with a steaming mug clutched in one hand and a shit-eating grin on his face. “We must be trapped in an alternative reality, because you never willingly get up this early.”
“Need coffee,” I grumbled, gesturing for him to move so I could reach the pot. With a chuckle, he passed me the full cup in his hand and turned to pour himself another.
“Morning, kiddo,” Dad called from the stove.
His chipper, bright-eyed and bushy-tailed tone grated on my nerves, but the frying pan full of sizzling meat he was tending to more than made up for it.
Next to him on the counter was a serving tray already piled high with greasy goodness, along with the jackpot—a stack of fluffy golden perfection.
I mumbled an unintelligible response as I blew on my coffee. Only after taking a few sips was I able to string together a proper sentence. “Smells good, Dad. Mind if I have some?”
“Help yourself.”
“You working today?” I asked as I took a plate down from the dish cabinet. I piled it high with my two favorite breakfast foods. “If not, we should rent something to watch. That new sci-fi you wanted to see was just released.”
As the general foreman for a local construction company, Dad’s hours usually started early.
That he was still home meant he probably had the day off, and I would happily take a break from Dapper Daddies if he wanted to spend time with me.
Out of anyone in our family, Dad was the best person to watch movies with.
He always laughed at the most inappropriate times and had the funniest running commentary.
“Unfortunately, I am. I have a dentist appointment at nine thirty, so I got to sleep in a bit.”
This counted as sleeping in? Dear God, my dad was a masochist.
“Boo.” I turned to Drew. “What about you?”
“No can do, sis,” he said, swiping a piece of bacon off my plate. “I’m hanging with Maisie today.”
“Ugh, you’re officially boring now.”
A self-satisfied smirk tugged on the corner of his mouth. “You’re more than welcome to tag along.”
“And witness another disgusting make-out session? I think not.” Maisie was Drew’s girlfriend of three months, and they were still in the loved-up, touchy-feely stage of their relationship.
As soon as Stella got home from New York, Drew took us out to Vine & Dine to meet her.
She was nice enough, but after lunch, the four of us decided to see a movie together, and the happy couple spent the entire film sucking face.
Nothing like sitting next to your brother while he mauled his girlfriend to permanently scar you for eternity.
Drew shrugged. “Suit yourself.”
“Is Mom home?”
“Yes, but she’s leaving for her shift in”—Dad flipped his wrist over and checked his watch—“half an hour.”
Okay, so Mom, Dad, and Drew were busy. No big deal. That still left two people who might be willing to spend the day vegging with me.
“What about Stella and Oliver?” I asked. “Where are they at?”
“Drove into Minneapolis for something, but I’m not sure what. Stella said they’d be back around lunchtime,” Drew answered. He drained the rest of his coffee, then set the mug in the sink. “I’m heading out. See you later, loser.”
Guess that meant it was just me.
* * *