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“I suppose I should order some comfort food,” Steve said.
“For me or for you?”
“Both of us. Pizza?”
Zach nodded and then walked over to the sliding door that led to the backyard, which had nothing remotely resembling grass. Round pebbles in various earth tones and grays peppered the entire area around cement paths, and some bushy vine that refused to die provided the suggestion of shade as it creeped up the pergola as if trying to break into the house. Steve watched Zach through the glass as he settled into one of the Adirondack chairs in the shade and stared down at his phone. When he took a deep breath and dialed, Steve turned away to give him privacy and to order that pizza. They both typically ate healthy—junk food just wasn’t worth the icky feeling and extra hours at the gym—but sometimes even a health-conscious man needed pizza and beer without guilt. He’d just order one with a veggie or two among the processed meat bits.
With pizza promised within the hour, Steve couldn’t stop himself from replaying that Baroquen song where Roux sang most of the melody and had an amazing keyboard solo. The sound hit him in the gut every time, but now that he knew her better, now that he could picture her at his grandmother’s piano playing the music the woman had written but had never taken credit for, the song turned him inside out. How was he going to survive the next week without seeing Roux? They’d promised to keep their distance on tour, but at least he’d be able to see her. Not seeing her was hell.
Impulsively he sent her a text message, unsure if she’d answer. Miss me yet?
Her reply was almost immediate. God, yes.
Forget the tour and run away with me. We can disappoint millions of fans together.
Millions of fans in your case. Tens of fans in mine.
He laughed out loud. But if you run away with me, you’ll have your biggest fan right beside you.
You’re such a groupie. She punctuated her message with the eye roll emoji.
Can I get a backstage pass? Pleeeeease. I’ll do anything you want.
Tempting, but no. I have to go. Iona is going to think I passed out in the bathroom and hunt me down.
So that was why she was free to text him. She was using the bathroom. He knew well what it was like to have such a busy schedule that even finding time to take a piss was an ordeal, so he cut her a little slack. He didn’t want to be the guy who made a nuisance of himself. He just wanted her to think about him at least half as much as he thought of her.
Promise you’ll text me next time you take a dump.
Steve!
He laughed again. Promise.
I promise.
I already have you trained.
You wish. I really am going now. She punctuated that with a kissing emoji, which he copied in his answer.
Steve was buzzing with all sorts of excited, happy energy when he set his phone aside. The woman already ruled his world, and he knew it. He just hoped she didn’t send him crashing and burning the way Bianca had. Falling hard and fast was risky, but lord, it felt good. He glanced out toward the backyard and saw Zach sitting with his elbows on his knees, arms stretched out, and his phone gripped loosely far in front of him. His head was low, gaze on the ground between his feet. Steve’s heart sank for the guy. He wasn’t as good at being a sounding board as Zach was, but he slid the door open and sat in the chair next to him, waiting for Zach to say something if he wanted to. Steve wouldn’t pry, but he knew his friend well enough to know he liked to talk about his problems. A lot.
“He doesn’t want to break up,” Zach said after a moment of uncomfortable silence.
“So he’s coming out publicly?”
Zach snorted and ran a hand through the long half of his hair, which was hanging loose today. “No. His publicist is doing damage control on the online rumor. Why do these rumors keep springing up about me? First with you, which was false, and now with Enrique, which isn’t.”
“Maybe you should try hanging out with less famous dudes.” Steve elbowed him in the arm.
“You’re not that famous.”
“More famous than you are.”
“Not after this, I’m sure.”
“Maybe we should call Sam,” Steve said. “I’m sure he’d know how to use your sudden notoriety in your favor.”
The only person who hated Sam more than Steve did was Zach, and he didn’t even flinch at the suggestion.
“Great idea. Maybe he’ll rehire Twisted Element for the next leg of the tour. I just have to sell my soul to the publicity devil. It isn’t worth much anyway.”
“We both know you wouldn’t do that. What are you going to do about Enrique?”
“Give him another chance.”
Steve cut off the sigh that tried to escape him. He knew better than to try to fix someone else’s relationship. It was hard enough navigating his own.
“I hope it works out.” And he meant it if Enrique made Zach happy. But if the bastard made his friend miserable, Steve hoped the fucker got hit by a train.
Zach smiled slightly. “Me too. Is the pizza here yet? I’m starved.”
“You aren’t running back to him tonight?”
“I’ll crash here with you, if you don’t mind. He thinks I should stay away for a few days. Wouldn’t want to get caught with me on his property while the paparazzi are so thick outside his house.”
Steve bit his tongue, but only for a second. “And you’re going to put up with that bullshit?”
“It’s just for a few days.” His gaze turned to the pebbles that covered the ground. “Or weeks. Or however long it takes for suspicions to die.”
And when they did, Steve hoped Zach didn’t plan to jump when Enrique beckoned.
“I’m taking you to Europe with me. You don’t have to be my personal assistant. You’ll be my guest.”
“I can’t go. I need to be here—”
“When Enrique decides you’re worth his time? Fuck that. You’re going.”
“But—”
“If he wants you, he’ll come find you.”
Hope flickered behind Zach’s gaze, but it was quickly squelched as he started thinking too hard about it. “He won’t do that.”
“Then he isn’t worth your time. Move on.”
“Easy for you to say! You just met the woman of your dreams.”
“She wouldn’t hold that status for long if she pulled the crap that Enrique pulls.”
“Whatever. I’ll just crash at your place while you’re gone.”
“You’re going to Europe.”
A knock at the front door drew Steve to his feet.
“You’re going,” he added as he stepped into the house through the sliding door.
He opened the front door to a smiling delivery man. Almost immediately the smile dropped off the guy’s face, and his eyes widened in shock. The pizza box tipped precariously and would have landed on the floor if Steve hadn’t made a grab for it.
“Y-you’re Steve Aimes.”
Steve smiled. Not that famous, my ass, he thought smugly. “Last time I checked.”
“You’re Steve Aimes.”
“I thought we already covered that.” He tried passing a fifty to the dumbfounded delivery guy, but the fluttering bill was completely ignored.
“Oh my God, you’re Steve Aimes!”
“I hope that’s the pizza,” Zach said, peering over Steve’s shoulder. “I’m about to die over here.”
The delivery guy’s gaze shifted from Steve to Zach. “Y-you’re Zach Mercier.”
Zach beamed. “You know Twisted Element.”
The man’s head shake was almost imperceptive. “Steve Aimes’s best friend.”
“I do need to hang out with less famous people,” Zach muttered under his breath.
“Can I get a picture with you?” Delivery Guy asked.
“What’s your name?”
“Chris.”
“Yes, Chris, you can get a picture with me, but only if you get one with Zach too. He’s a little bummed. Needs to feel
important.”
Zach slugged him, almost unseating the pizza box from Steve’s palm.
