Page 67 of Rebooting Conor Flynn

Jermaine’s voice sliced through the air. “Picture time. Let’s get a group shot by the pool. Then those of you on the stage and behind the stage better sober up for the show.”

Everyone laughed and moved toward the pool, crowding in, pushing me and Conor closer together. Conor curled his arm around my waist, pulling me flush against him, by boob smashing against his side.

We could not have another picture like this on social media where I knew it would inevitably land. I put my hand over his, now tucked beneath my shirt and resting on my hip, and tried to pry his fingers from my bare flesh.

“Con, we’re not doing this now. You need to keep your hands to yourself.”

He whispered in my ear, his warm breath tickling my lobe. “Make me.”

“Two can play dirty.” I bent his fingers back.

He grunted and released me so suddenly, I lost my balance. I teetered on the edge of the pool, and Conor reached out to grab my arm. As I pushed it away, I took a step back and my foot hung off the end of the deck. Someone to my left jostled me, and I fell backward into the water.

But not before I grabbed Conor and took him with me.

Chapter 17

NOELLE

Someone screamed, “We’re going in!”

Before I had time to catch my breath, almost everyone in the group photo ditched their phones and watches and jumped into the pool.

Conor circled his hands around my waist beneath the water. “You are such an instigator.”

I giggled and ducked my head beneath the water. By the time I popped up, people were clambering from the pool, their clothes soggy, some missing a sandal, some still holding their drinks aloft.

Jermaine hoisted himself onto the deck. “Much better group picture. Let’s bring that energy to the stage tonight for our sold-out show.”

I paddled toward the steps in the shallow end of the pool. Conor swam up behind me and lifted me to the edge.

“That was totally your fault, Noelle for bending my fingers back. Hurt like hell, too. I may never play guitar again.”

“If you hadn’t let go so suddenly, I wouldn’t have lost my balance.” I squeezed out my hair and pressed my fingers against my eyes to make sure my contacts were still in place.

“I thought you wanted me to let go.” He shook his hair out like a dog after a bath, sending droplets of water into the air.

Plucking his wet T-shirt from his body, he said, “I have to get my clothes and change, although a few minutes in this Phoenix sun would have them bone dry.”

“Yeah, I’m going back to my room to shower and change. Now I have to fix my hair to meet Ashley’s standards.” I wound a few strands, curling into mayhem, around my fingers, but nothing but a hair dryer, brush, and conditioner would work on this mess.

“All I have in my room are my clothes for the stage. Shanice picked something out for me and brought it up. I’m not wearing my stage clothes while I eat dinner and try to relax.”

“Where are the rest of your clothes?”

“I left my main bag on the tour bus.”

“It’s locked.”

“I know.” He tapped my chest with his finger. “That’s why you’re going with me to let me in. I know you are one of the keepers of the keys.”

“Keepers of the keys—sounds like an ancient order of middle managers sworn to protect sacred doors...or buses.”

He gave me a playful nudge. “Do you have them?”

“Unless they fell out in the pool...” I patted the front pocket of my shorts “...right here.”

“Let’s go.” Conor swept his phone from the table and strode toward the gate around the pool area.