Page 64 of Animal Beats

My heart puddles. He’s fresh off a gig and going into a popular club, but he’s thinking of my sister? I can’t form words, so I simply nod.

He pays for two fans—Mila’s and an all-black one for me—and waves mine in front of my face. I eek out, “Thank you.”

His head points up to the night sky and he laughs like he doesn’t have a care in the world. “This is the best night ever!”

We return outside the club, and are taken to the VIP area. New fans in my purse, I follow behind Río, who orders a Gold Rush from the bartender assigned to this section. I also order my favorite, an Aperol Spritz. One drink tonight is all I’m allowing myself, no matter the drummer’s limit.

Río approaches and clinks his glass against mine. He takes one swallow and his eyelids shut, clearly savoring the drink. “Ah. This is what I’m talking about! Are you sure you don’t want to try a sip?”

Shaking my head, I say, “I’m good. I got my Aperol Spritz. Somehow, I don’t think it’ll mix well with your lighter fluid.”

He laughs. “Your loss.” A DJ sets up in the corner of the room, diverting his attention. “Looks like we’re in for some great music.” Using his drink to point at the DJ’s setup, he doesn’t notice a fan approaching him. His glass collides with her body and then the liquid splashes all over him.

“¡Disculpo! ¡Lo siento!” The fan appears upset. For his part, Río calms her down rather than deal with his now-wet shirt.

I leave the pair to get seltzer and napkins. When I return, they’re taking photos with her phone. I stay in the background until they’re done. “Río, let’s get you cleaned up.” He gives the woman a kiss on her cheek and follows me to a quieter area. Without preamble, I pour seltzer onto the napkin and try to dab the alcohol out of his shirt.

“That’s cold,” Río complains.

“Better than smelling like a distillery, right?”

He motions for me to continue, letting me pat the stain for few minutes before snatching the napkin out of my hand. Placing it on his shirt, he says, “There. It’s dry. All good. However, you saw I didn’t get to drink more than a sip of that drink. Let me have a do-over.” When I remain quiet, he says, “Pretty please, with an orgasm on top.”

How can I refuse him when he’s being so adorable? “Fine. Get a replacement. But be careful with it, alright?”

“Sure thing, Babysitter!” He leaves me to hit up the bar.

“Things are looking pretty chummy between you two. I saw this before with Jenna and Bennett. I’m calling it—you and Río got something going on.” One pierced eyebrow raises as Nese drinks a Pomegranate Martini.

“We’re not a couple,” I correct the stylist. “After the stunt he pulled at the Trevi Fountain, I’m here to manage the fallout. PR. Remember, my job?”

“Sure. Let’s go with that for now.” She scans the crowd. “Speaking of, what’s he doing?”

“Huh?” I search for Río but my vision is taken up by Kieron talking up a group of clubgoers. He leaves one group and goes to another. Ignoring him, my gaze lands on Río, who is chatting with the DJ. A drum set has been procured out of nowhere. Of course, the drummer is all up in that. “Oh boy. I better check this out.”

“Good luck!”

Leaving my friend, I approach the pair who are working out the live addition of drums to the music. Didn’t Río get enough of the drums onstage tonight? Watching him handle the drums, though, it’s clear the answer is definitely “no.” His love for the instrument shines through.

The DJ takes the mic, introduces Río, and they launch into a set that is stadium-worthy. All of the patrons scream and jump, even those unable to see UC’s drummer at his craft. Doesn’t matter. The entire club can hear him.

I make sure to have two waters at the ready when he finishes. Everyone, including the other members of UC, cheers when the set ends. When Río walks away from the makeshift stage, he grabs the waters and is surrounded by a bunch of adoring fans.

After a short while, he looks around and points at me, then motions for me to join him. Smiling, I go to him and we spend the rest of the night dancing and having a wonderful time.

The next day we wake up in another hotel room, this one near the famed Plaza Mayor. I’m about to get the room service menu when my phone rings. “It’s Nina,” I explain to Río before answering it.

My boss doesn’t waste a second. “I’ve read the band went out to a club in Madrid after their performance last night. Lots of positive press about the concert and the boys at the club. With one major exception.”

My eyebrows crease. “What do you mean? I was there every second and nothing bad happened with the band. Río even played drums to the DJ’s music.”

“Yes, I read that. I also read he was drunk, with several people quoted that he smelled like alcohol. Didn’t Luke talk with you about not letting him get so out of control?”

“He did. But⁠—”

“According to several articles, Río was plastered and making a scene.”

“No, he didn’t make a scene. The DJ invited him⁠—”