Page 11 of Animal Beats

Luke says, “Hayden here has agreed to be your shadow. UC can’t afford any more bad publicity like the shitstorm you managed to stir up here.”

I watch as Río’s brown gaze swings to me. He and Luke are the same height, but the drummer’s much leaner with muscles developed from hours banging on his drum kit. My chin sets. What he looks like doesn’t matter. From now on, he’s a job I have to keep under control. I can do this.

Río doesn’t say anything. Neither do I. We simply stand, staring at each other. Luke glances between us, not daring to enter the fray.

Somehow, it feels like the first one of us to break will lose. My shoulders straighten. It won’t be me. I refuse to give him the satisfaction. Besides, I’m not backing down.

Bending toward the table, Río picks up his cellphone. Before it slips into his back pocket, I break my imposed silence. For a good reason.

“Stop.”

My directive gains me the attention of both men in the room. I shift my weight between my feet. Time to set the boundaries.

I fish out my own cell. “What’s your number?”

“Why?” Río’s petulant question bounces off the cement block walls.

“Because if I’m going to be your babysitter, I need to be able to reach you at all times.” Clearly this test is going to challenge me. I’m up for whatever he throws at me.

“Seriously?” Río’s gaze swings to his manager. “I don’t need a babysitter, especially not one as uptight as her.” Using his thumb, he points to me.

My index finger bounces off my cell. Luke better stand up for me. I don’t have to wait long. “Listen to me, Río. While my attention has been focused on Bennett for the past several months, I haven’t missed your increasingly ridiculous antics. You’ve been drinking more⁠—”

“I have not!”

“Dude. If I checked your paperwork, I’m sure ‘fish’ is listed as your next of kin. This has to stop. Not to mention there can be no repeat of what happened here. Am I making myself clear?”

Río plants his fists on his slim hips. “I don’t drink more than any of the rest of the band.”

Luke’s head tilts. “Coop, 007, and Tris intersperse their drinks with water or soda. Bennett’s tapered off considerably since Jenna’s been on the scene. Tell me, how many glasses of water have you drunk in the past twenty-four hours?”

Río’s nostrils flare. “I’ve had some.” He bounces. “I had water at every meal.”

“Which was on the tables when you sat down. You ordered three mimosas for breakfast and switched to four Gold Rushes during lunch.”

What the hell is a Gold Rush? My jaws clamp shut.

“You were keeping track of what I’ve been drinking? Shit, man, get a life.”

Gotta hand it to Río, he’s not going down without a fight. Still, seven alcoholic drinks over what? Four hours? That’s a lot. Plus, Luke hasn’t even touched on whatever Río was drinking at the Trevi Fountain. Doubt creeps in. Perhaps this assignment is bigger than I imagined?

“You need to get your drinking under control,” their manager counters.

The two stare each other down, much the same way this encounter started. Lovely.

I tap on my phone again. “Your number?”

The enraged drummer spins toward me. “Fine.” Digits roll off his tongue fast, but I’m able to capture them and add it to my address book. I send him a text:

ENTITLED DRUMMER:

Now you have my number too. Stay on the right path and we’ll be fine.

The announcement of a new text pings throughout the room. Río doesn’t make a move to check what I sent him, but I don’t care. At least I know he got it.

Another idea about his phone dances in my mind. Río’s going to hate it, but too bad. If I’m going to babysit this toddler, I need complete control. I clear my throat. “Now that you have my number, I need you to forward all your texts, calls, and email to it. Plus share your location tracking.”

“The fuck!” Río paces like a caged tiger. “Your number is in my phone. That’s more than enough.”