“I hope you don’t mind, but I’m going to grab a few things.” Alec rolled down his window as he pulled up to a gated underground parking lot. He punched a code into a keypad on the wall, and the gate slid back. “You guys can wait here or come up,” he said as he steered his car into an open stall. “Doesn’t matter. I won’t be long.”
“We’re definitely coming,” Asha said, throwing open her door. There was a feverish look in her eyes, like this was every Christmas she’d ever experienced rolled into one giant holiday.
I unbuckled and got out, although with less enthusiasm. I felt… Wasstrangethe right word? This was Alec’s apartment. Not his dad’s or his mom’s. He actually owned his own place. Which was understandable since he was eighteen and had plenty of money, but it made me feel out of my league. He was only a year olderthan me, but suddenly those three hundred and sixtyish days felt like a decade.
Asha hooked her arm through mine as we crossed the garage toward the stairwell. “This is so unreal,” she whispered. “Alec Williams just invited us to his apartment.”
“You really need to work on your quiet voice,” Boomer said from behind us. “Everyone can hear you, including the guy whoinvited us to his apartment.”
I peeked at Alec, who was a few steps ahead of us, keys swinging in his hand. If he’d heard, he made no indication.
Asha snickered. “Of all people, you’re one to talk.”
Boomer grinned and gave her a playful shove. “That may be true, but that doesn’t make you any less creepy.”
The elevator ride to Alec’s apartment was silent with one exception: Asha was humming to herself. I caught her eye and shot her a look, which was supposed to say, “Can you pleaseact normal?” But she just offered me a mischievous smile and carried on. It was only when we reached his floor that I recognized the tune—a Heartbreakers song.
Someone, please. Kill me now.
My face turned impossibly hot, but the embarrassment was quickly replaced with surprise when Alec unlocked the door to his apartment, and we all filed inside.
He flipped on the lights. We were standing in the kitchen, and my first thought was:This is small. Small, but nice.
Past the island countertop and bar stools was the living room. A sectional couch and matching chair were centered in front of one ofthose fake, electric fireplaces. Above the mantel hung a flat-screen TV. The far wall had what looked like a floor-to-ceiling window, but the curtains were drawn, hiding whatever view Alec had of the city. The remaining wall was covered by a huge modular bookshelf. Some of the cubes held books, but judging from our conversation aboutTo Kill a Mockingbird, they were for decoration. The other compartments displayed vases and glass bowls and other accent pieces.
I don’t know what I was expecting—maybe a penthouse bachelor pad—but this was definitely not it. The space was cozy and warm, and I liked it.
“Well,” Alec said. He gestured vaguely in the direction of the living room and then shoved his hands into his pockets. “Make yourselves at home. I’ll be right back.”
Boomer had no reservation about doing just that. He plopped down on the couch and pulled out his Game Boy. “Alec’s not half-bad,” he said, glancing at me over the back of the couch.
I shot him a look. “Well, thank God he has your approval.”
“I have to pee,” Asha announced, starting down the hall in search of the bathroom. I suspected she wanted to see the rest of Alec’s apartment and was being nosy, but I said nothing.
Once she was out of sight, I wandered over to the fireplace to inspect the row of picture frames arranged along the mantel. I didn’t need an explanation to figure out the first was of Alec and his sister. Vanessa had the same gray eyes and nearly white hair Alec did, and their noses were identical. The siblings were standing at the edge of some desert ridge wearing hiking gear and smiles of accomplishment.
The next frame held two pictures of Alec with his bandmates: Oliver Perry, JJ Morris, and Xander Jones. The first was of them laughing and sitting around a campfire, and in the second they were in what looked like a hotel pool, chicken fighting. Something about the two snapshots was startling. I’d only seen the Heartbreakers in magazine spreads and on posters, so it was strange to see them in such casual settings, like they were regular teenagers and not celebrities.
The fourth photograph was also of the band, but standing in the center of the group was a brunette with a streak of blue in her hair and a nose piercing. My stomach twisted when I saw Alec’s arm around her shoulders, but she was holding hands with Oliver, and I remembered Asha telling me he was dating a photographer named Stacy or Sara something or other.
My gaze slid to the last picture of Alec and a beautiful blond woman who could only be his mother. Her head was thrown back in laughter, and Alec, who looked like he was two or three, was propped on her hip. The smile on his face matched his mother’s joy, and I smiled to myself. Toddler Alec was adorable.
Out of nowhere, a funny ringing filled the room. At first I thought it was Boomer’s game, but he always played with the sound off because it drove Asha crazy. I turned in a circle, trying to find the source of the noise, until I noticed the computer on Alec’s desk had lit up. Someone was calling him.
“Hey, Alec?” I shouted down the hall. “Someone’s Skyping you!”
“It’s probably Vanessa,” he yelled back. “Can you answer it? I’ll be out in a sec.”
“Sure thing!” I rushed over to the computer.
The incoming call was from someone named DoubleJMan. I had a feeling it wasn’t Vanessa, but I slid into the chair and answered anyway. It took a few seconds for the call to connect, and when the camera finally blinked into focus, Alec’s sister was not on the other end. Instead, there was a guy with dark-brown, almost black, hair. The first thing I noticed was that he was shirtless. And he lookedvery goodshirtless, all buff and muscly, with an armband tattoo twisted around his bicep. His face was just as recognizable as Alec’s, and I knew who he was in an instant—JJ Morris, drummer for the Heartbreakers.
I was as awestruck as when Alec first revealed his identity, but somehow, despite the uncomfortable flutter of nerves in my stomach, I managed to lift my hand in a hesitant wave and say, “Ah, hi.”
“Alec,” he said. “You’re much prettier than I remember. And ginger. Did you color your hair?”
I inhaled at his greeting. “I’m not Alec,” I said, although it was obvious he was giving me a hard time.
