Chapter Forty-Two – Alex
At that table, he’s missing, and the longing for him is hurting me.
Naquela Mesa – Zeca Pagodinho
A month ago, I walked into this house feeling insecure about how I’d be received, terrified A.J.’s best friend would hate me, and clueless about where I fit in this band’s dynamic.
Today, I help Mrs. Sol set the table while Daniele—who’s sort of my friend now—tells me I need to get ready for dinner, and A.J. sneaks up to replace her role with a kiss at the nape of my neck.
I smile against his lips. “Don’t take too long,” he murmurs, his hand resting at the small of my back.
“I won’t,” I promise.
I tip onto my toes to kiss his cheek before slipping away, hiding my giggle behind the curls at my temples.
Being here with everyone feels so good. Even though we’ve been back in New York on and off during these weeks of shows, life on the road always steals away any sense of belonging.
So being in a house, surrounded by people I care about, on Christmas…
it feels like everything’s finally in its right place.
I walk into Daniele’s room—this time, I’m actually sharing it with her, since Richard went home to spend Christmas with his parents.
I grab my suitcase from beside the bed, the one in the neat corner.
I trip over a shoe by Dani’s messy bed and sidestep Beatriz’s mattress to get to the other side of the room.
The three of us will sleep here tonight. A.J. and I are only staying until tomorrow, and they said we needed a proper girls’ night. I know exactly what the two of them want to talk about, and it’s better to just get it over with.
Without much fuss, I swap out the hoodie Dani lent me for a red dress with green buttons: super Christmassy, almost cheesy, exactly what the night calls for.
Instead of pulling my hair into a bun or trying to style it into something elaborate, I just part it down the middle and let it fall, big and natural.
I can’t even remember the last time I wore it like this.
Ever since I became a backing singer, every show has demanded that I match the other girls perfectly.
I take two steps back, face myself in Daniele’s mirror, and grin. Ten minutes can really work wonders.
I grab my toiletry bag and sit down to finish getting ready. I dab a little concealer under my eyes but give up on foundation right away. Another thing I’m not up for tonight: being all dolled up.
I choose a lighter lipstick that won’t clash with the dress, swipe on some mascara, and just as I close the little tube and hold the lipstick in my hand, someone knocks on the door.
The smile that spreads across my face at the thought of seeing A.J.
is downright embarrassing. Whatever this man is doing to me—and to my stone-cold heart—it must be a crime somewhere in the world, but not here.
Here, he’s making another one of my dreams come true, letting me fall a little more in love with some piece of him I haven’t discovered yet.
“Come in!” I call cheerfully.
Beatriz slips inside and freezes.
“Sorry to disappoint, but it’s just me,” she says when she notices my smile fade. I wave her in.
“You’re not disappointing me, Bia. Stop being silly.”
She laughs.
“It’s written all over your face, you were hoping to see our two-meter-tall hyperactive kid,” she teases as she steps inside and closes the door and dumps her pile of clothes on the bed nearest me and flops down beside it.
“Really?” I groan. “I was trying to be a little more mysterious.”
“You two walked in holding hands, and you spent the whole day glued to that man.”
“I did not,” I protest, awkwardly turning to face her.
“Your butt didn’t touch a single seat today, Alexandra. Every time you sat, it was straight onto A.J.’s lap. Everybody noticed. If you were trying to keep it a secret…” Bia shrugs, and the corner of my mouth lifts a little.
I shake my head, feeling a bit calmer now that she’s laid it all out—because it’s okay if everyone saw. It saves us from having to make some kind of announcement.
“We weren’t,” I admit. “We didn’t plan to tell, but we weren’t exactly hiding either.”
“You two weren’t even trying to hide it during the tour, let’s be real. Those performances? My God. Just lock yourselves in a room,” Beatriz jokes, running a hand through her hair to fix a curl, crossing her legs like a proper lady.
In her long dress with a slit as high as my entire leg, she exudes elegance. If you look closely, you can practically see the word heiress stamped on her forehead.
“Do his fans hate you?” The question flies from my lips, and I almost don’t know where it comes from.
I never thought I’d be the type of girl to care what others thought of my relationships. But maybe that’s because I never really had one before.
“No, everyone loves us,” she says, biting her lower lip in nervousness. But she pauses for a moment and adds, “Well, the international fans weren’t exactly thrilled at first. But… Gui taught me not to go online just to see what people hate about me, and that helped a lot.”
I turn my whole body toward her, disbelieving. Reading fan notes and random internet comments is the most soul-sucking thing I know. Even before A.J. and me, I only ever did it when I wanted to get mad.
“Wow, who would’ve thought not looking up hate comments would actually make you feel better?” I say sarcastically, and she rolls her eyes.
“I didn’t come here to talk about me, Alexandra. Tell me, how are you feeling?”
“Happy?” I answer, half questioning. “Nervous, excited, in love, scared I’m making a huge mistake…”
“Why?”
“What’s the future of this, Bia? I have a life there, and he lives here. And he has a life everywhere.”
Beatriz doesn’t answer right away. She folds her arms, frowning as she studies me.
“Guilherme and I are making it work just fine, thank you,” Bia teases, reminding me that it’s even harder for her. As an actress, she sometimes has to be away for months on end, and during the guys’ tour, she and Gui spent so much time apart.
“A.J. really loves you, truly. I haven’t known him long, and the guys treat him like he’s the most reckless person alive. But out of everyone, he’s the one I’d bet my life on—he’d never break the heart of the girl he loves.”
“Even more than Rick?”
“Rick’s my best friend in the band, but if I’m being honest—and I love him and my sister-in-law so much—I still have my doubts about relationships that start off… in such a wrong way.” She shrugs, not giving more detail. And I don’t ask.
“Okay. But even more than Guilherme?”
“You know he’s already broken my heart once, right?”
“I also know he had his reasons, Bia.”
“He did. And I understood, forgave, and I know I’ll be with that annoying prince of mine until the end of time,” she sighs, lovestruck, leaning forward like she’s about to share a juicy secret.
“What I’m trying to say is—A.J. would never break your heart, even if it meant breaking his own.
So hold onto him. I’ve loved Guilherme since I was fifteen, and we almost missed our chance by waiting too long to dive in.
Don’t make the same mistake. Hold onto him, because from the way you’re smiling right now, it’s clear you two are worth it,” Beatriz says, her eyes full of tenderness, and I let out a relieved breath.
You can never trust anyone completely. But knowing your girls are behind you in your relationship, it’s half the battle, enough to calm the worst of the fear.
Still, part of me knows that maybe the problem isn’t him.
“I’m going to do something for A.J. and, depending on how it all plays out, I might regret it,” I say, and the look Beatriz gives me says it all: Don’t do it. “But if I don’t, I’ll regret it even more.”
“You know that ‘doing what’s best for me’ without asking how I felt was exactly what made Guilherme break my heart, right?” she says gently.
I nod, swallowing hard.
“But it comforts me to know that this isn’t about us. It’s about him. So I hope you’re right. And even if A.J. hates me for a few hours, I hope he can like me enough to stay.”
I shrug and turn back to the vanity, reaching for my lipstick.
“I think… in your case, it’s like the song he sings. If it all falls apart, you’ll need to love him even more when he deserves it the least.”
Love.
It’s been a month since I first kissed A.J. and ten days since I admitted to myself that I like this beautiful mess we’ve become. I hope we can keep holding on with just a little less than love.
“And how’s your mom doing back in Brazil for her first Christmas without you?” I switch the subject, my heart racing, I need to stop thinking about this for a minute.
“She’s handling it better than I ever thought she would.”
The smile that spreads across her face is infectious, and after everything this girl has been through these past few years, it’s beautiful to hear her talk about how her mom’s adjusting to her season in the U.S.
I wipe off the excess makeup while she gushes about how much she’s loving the thrill of being back on tour, even if it doesn’t make her want to sing again, she understands us completely.
Daniele comes up to get us at eleven forty, and the three of us head down, giddy and anxious. Nobody wants to mess up the plans she’s prepared for tonight.
I go straight into A.J.’s arms. He’s leaning against the kitchen island.
Bia’s curled up in Guilherme’s lap on one of the living room sofas, and Daniele stops beside Thomas, chattering on top of his quiet nods.
But knowing these days without Richard have been hard on her, he pretends to be interested.
A few minutes later, Carlos pulls the turkey and the pork roast out of the oven. He and Sol start carving together, so in sync and so sweet that I lean in and kiss A.J. on the cheek.
My Golden Boy’s eyes go dark when he gives me a wicked little look.
“I’m dragging you down to that basement later,” he whispers in my ear.
I shrug, teasing.
“Try your luck.”
“I really am, Babe.” He says and that nickname is going to be the death of me.