Kylie smiles, but she directs it at me, not the paparazzi begging for a more scandalous shot.
“Slater, this way.”
“Over here.”
“Can you kiss?”
“Who’s the mystery girl?”
“Are you in love?”
I wait approximately thirty seconds before I start walking again. Since my arm is curled around Kylie’s waist, she follows right along with me. When we make it to the sidewalk without incident, my brows furrow, shocked the paparazzi are doing as promised. They continue snapping us, but they leave a decent amount of distance between us, happy to utilize their long range zoom.
Halfway out of the alley, my eyes drop to my watch. “We’ve have ten minutes to make it all the way down to Pier 33 before our ferry leaves without us.”
Kylie swoops down to remove her shoes. Once they’re clutched in her hands, her glowing eyes lock with mine. “Catch me if you can.”
With a cheeky wink that has me wanting to fall to my knees, she hightails it onto the sidewalk, her fast speed gaining a fair amount of distance between us in an extremely short period. Grinning, I take off after her, but not before cranking my neck back to make sure Hawke is following us. He is, but he doesn’t appear happy about it.
When I catch up to Kylie, I grasp her other hand in mine before increasing my speed. Our weaves through the swarm of tourists mingling around Fisherman’s Wharf soon lose the paparazzi tailing us, but it gains us over a dozen curious gawks. They’re most likely gawking in glee, because none of my fans have seen me smile like I am right now. I love what I do, but I wasn’tinlove with it. If that makes any sense? But this… I could get use to this.
By the time we make it to Pier 33, I’m gasping for air, and Kylie is giggling loudly. I thought I missed her lips the most, but her laugh is making a quick liar out of me. Once I get my breathing under control, I hand our tickets to the attendant, and they usher us straight onto the boat.
“Are you okay?” Kylie questions, still giggling.
I haven’t exercised in years because all the workout I need to stay fit is done behind my drum kit—or in the bedroom—so every muscle in my body is feeling our sprint.
Nodding, I suck in some big breaths while making a mental note to add leg reps into my workout sessions. Once my normal breathing returns, we move to the bow of the boat, wanting the best view of Alcatraz as it comes into sight. Even though it’s nearly summer, a thick blanket of fog covers most of the Bay. It gives it an eerie feeling that matches the marvel peeking out from behind it. It’s glorious, but nowhere near as compelling as having my body wrapped around Kylie’s. We snuggled together the entire thirty-minute trip, happy to use the fog as an excuse to get cozy.
Kylie’s excitement beams out of her when I snap her photo next to the “Welcome to Alcatraz” sign, then it leaps onto mine when our private host motions for us to climb onto the back of a golf cart so they can drive us up a steep hill. I would have died if I had to slum it with the regular visitors.
After being greeted at the main entrance by a second hostess, we’re ushered into a small death trap of an elevator to take us to the third level to collect a set of headphones for our audio tour. Our hostess offered to give us a guided tour, but I’d rather experience it like everyone else. From the reviews online, the audio tour isn’t as dorky as it sounds.
When I put on my headphones, I turn the volume down, preferring to pay attention to Kylie’s reactions. I don’t need to hear what they’re saying to know what’s happening. Kylie’s face tells the whole story. Sometimes her brows pull together tightly or her eyes gloss with tears. A handful of times, she jumps in fright before her eyes dart to shrapnel marks on the concrete floors. But my favorite moments are when I see her happiness at crossing another item off her beloved bucket list in her smile.
It wouldn’t matter if we’re touring Alcatraz or eating grilled pickled sandwiches, the smile on her face when she crosses an item off her bucket list is the most rewarding part for me.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Kylie
“Are you sure you don’t want to stay?” I glance into Melanie’s blue eyes, mine pleading. “Slater said you can stay as long as you like.”
The elation I felt visiting Alcatraz was replaced with sadness when Slater and I walked into my hotel room to find Melanie had her bags packed and was ready to go home.
After briefly considering my request, Melanie shakes her head. “You two need privacy.” She bumps me with her hip. “Besides, I achieved what I came here for, so now it’s time for me to go home.”
“You didn’t do what you were supposed to do. You weremeantto keep me in line.” I give her a fake stern look. “You didn’t do that. Since you arrived here, I’ve been forced to do manyhideousactivities against my wishes. Like playing spin the bottle, and I stayed out all night last night. I haven’t slept for over thirty hours.” My voice is dramatic. “Oh, and I may even fuck a drummer in the shower tonight.”
She slaps my arm while giggling. “See, proof my work here is done.”
“What about Marcus?” I keep my interrogation on the down low, ensuring Marcus and Slater won’t overhear our conversation since they’re in the living room.
When Melanie’s eyes stray to Marcus, I smile. She’s still got the lost puppy dog look her eyes held the night they met, but it’s not as woeful now. It’s got more grit behind it—like she’s finally got a grip on her obsession. I doubt it, but she’s certainly upped the caliber of her acting skills the past month.
“It’s complicated.” She bends down to pick up her suitcase before nudging her head to Marcus. “He’scomplicated. In a totally wicked way, but there’s only so much a girl can do in a short amount of time.”
When they notice Melanie has collected her suitcase, Slater and Marcus head our way. Marcus removes her bursting-at-the-seams suitcase from her grasp and walks toward the door while Slater lingers awkwardly at the side. He knows how much I’m hurting, but he doesn’t have a clue how to fix it, and neither do I.
