Page 45 of Animal Beats

“Lightweight!” I teasingly tweak her nose. “You asked about my best friend? It’s Coop.”

Her blue eyes widen. “Really? Coop seems so…” She trails off.

I supply a few adjectives. “Smart? Level-headed? Calm?”

“Well, yeah.” She sits back against the cushions, then rushes forward, “Not that you aren’t or anything.”

I chuckle. “Laying it on a bit thick, huh? Recently, I’ve been accused of drinking too much, been arrested and kicked out of Italy, and got a babysitter assigned to me. I don’t think that qualifies me as ‘calm.’”

“Fine.” She runs her index finger over her lips. I swallow my desire to do the same. “It’s that you two seem so different.”

I force myself to focus. “I met Coop in sixth grade and we’ve been through it all together. He’s always offered great advice. I was there for him when he was at his lowest.” I pause, remembering that time almost a decade ago. Continuing, I say, “He’s more of the deep thinker to my free spirit.”

“Free spirit,” she repeats. “Accurate.”

“Hey. Nothing wrong with it. Got me all the way from Barcelona to Philadelphia today, didn’t it. I doubt any of my other bandmates would’ve taken the flight.”

“I’m not so sure. Given the bedroom onboard the private plane, my guess is none of the guys would’ve turned it down.”

I wave my hand. “Honey, all these trappings don’t mean much to any of us anymore. Well, maybe to Tris, considering it’s still pretty new to him. But we’ve won the awards, played stadiums all over the world, fly in private jets. Nothing phases us.”

She shifts in her cross-legged position. “So, room service in a hotel?”

I shake my head.

“Limos taking you from place to place?”

My head continues to shake.

She stares at the sofa. “That’s sad. Things people aspire their whole lives to experience, mean nothing to you.” Her finger traces the cushion beneath her. “What brings you joy?”

Her question stumps me. “I snatch happiness wherever I am. Like listening to the busker on the street back in Barcelona. I enjoyed that very much.”

Her smile rewards me. “I liked his performance, too.”

I nudge her shoulder. “So much so that you ripped your dress.”

She fiddles with her hair. “Which you replaced.”

“Couldn’t have my babysitter walk around with a hole in her dress, now could I?” I lean toward her ear. “Although, it could’ve been fun for me to try to cover it up.” The fresh scent of oranges wafts into my nostrils. It shouldn’t be sexy, yet it turns me on.

“That would’ve been something. I’m sure the press would’ve played up how handsy you were with a local fan.”

I pick up a lock of her strawberry-blonde hair. “Are you?”

She doesn’t move. In a throaty whisper, she asks, “Am I what?”

I wrap the tendril around my finger. “A fan.”

Hayden swallows. “I, uhm, enjoy UC’s music. Is that what you wanted to hear?”

“How about the beat? Does it enter your bloodstream and make you want to dance like you did when the busker was playing?” I kiss her cheek, and she sucks in a gasp. “I liked that uninhibited side of you.”

“You did?”

I move my body closer to hers. “Very much.”

She faces me, her pupils dilating before my eyes. I watch as a vein throbs in her neck, her pulse picking up speed—in time with my own. In this moment, Hayden is not my babysitter. No. She’s an alluring, attractive woman who challenges me. Sees me. When has someone ever done this for me?