Page 17 of Driving Beats

Not wanting to delve into unhappy memories, I ask, “What about Río and Hayden?” I blow on my fingers. “I saw it coming.”

My diversion worked—he chuckles. “They’re a good match. He’s been my best friend since elementary school. She’s reined him in somewhat—which he needed, growing up the way he did.”

“I didn’t know Río’s your best friend. How cool is it that you work together!”

“Well, he’s a fantastic drummer, so he makes that part easy. Seeing the world with your best friend is pretty awesome, too.” He pauses. “We keep each other’s secrets.

I laugh. “I can’t even imagine what Río’s hiding! That boy is a true wild card.”

“He’s been through things. I’m happy he’s with Hayden, but I understand our band’s dynamic will change now.”

“Are you sad?”

Our gazes lock. “No. I’m happy for him. It’s just, well, a new rhythm.”

He turns away from me and I swear he mentions something about the retreat helping him get a better understanding. Leaving him to whatever’s going on inside his mind, I enter the bathroom, gather all my products, and dump them onto the bed.

“Geez? How much stuff do you have there?”

Before I answer, I spritz on my new perfume. It has a fun cotton candy scent! Then I begin to pack my hair products and give him a description of what each item does. By the time I hold up the fourth bottle, he’s checked out, but I continue my descriptions until he raises his hands in surrender.

“No more! I get it. You use all of them!”

I rub my hand over my pixie cut and beam at him. “Can you imagine if I had long hair?”

He appears perplexed for a moment, then he cracks a smile. “You’re something else, Nese.”

“I’m taking that as a good thing.” I zip up my luggage.

“You do that.” He stands. “Can I help you?”

I notice he didn’t reach out to grab my bags, rather he asked a polite question. “I appreciate your letting the caveman tactics go. Yes, please take them off the bed. They’re on wheels, so I can roll them.”

“You have your carry-on plus two oversized. How about I take these two?”

The way he phrased his ask diffused a potential trigger for me. It goes a long way to helping us restore a positive working relationship. “I’d appreciate it.”

Together, we go down to the front desk and I check out. When the bill comes, he holds up his black credit card. Raising one eyebrow, he asks, “Please let me handle this for you.”

Thanks to my job as UC’s stylist, I’m paid well. However, Coop’s take of the profits doesn’t compare. Plus, he did mention he feels guilty for making me work over break. “You’re very kind.”

He smiles at me, then pays my balance. We return to his Rover, he puts my three suitcases in the trunk, and we start driving.

My index finger lands on the radio dial. I slant him a look. “Do you mind?”

“Be my guest.” He puts on his blinker. “I guess, you sort of are.”

“Yeah, you could say that.”

I turn on the radio and a Cole Manchester song plays. He taps his fingers to the beat. “‘Gimme the Night’ has a great guitar riff.” Right on time, the guitar starts to wail. When it’s done, he admits, “I was asked to play on this record. It came out when UC was on hiatus after Darren.” He swallows. “Cole’s nice, and I almost said yes, but it felt like a betrayal, so I turned him down.”

My mouth falls open. “Wow. I didn’t know that. I thought Cole had his own band like UC.”

“He tours with the same musicians, true, but his albums feature studio musicians. When he was cutting this song, I guess I was considered sort of a ‘free agent.’ I thought about it, but couldn’t bring myself to do it. Good thing, though. Not long after, we found Tris and UC started to come back.”

“I bet you would’ve been awesome on the track.”

“Thanks. But UC is where I belong.”