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CHAPTERSEVEN
When another shoe hit the wall, Della got off her call and slid out of the banquette.
Enough already. Storming down the hall, she knocked on the door. “You doing okay, Diva?”
“Fine.” His gruff tone held a clear edge of Fuck off.
But she wasn’t intimidated. “How about a lunch break?”
“Not hungry.”
“Huh. ‘Cause you sound hangry to me.”
No response.
“Look, you’re obviously not accomplishing anything, so why not take a break? We can go to the aquarium.” Does Vegas even have one? “Oh, how about the Hoover Dam? I’ve never been there.”
“I can’t. I have to get it right for the show tonight.”
“Not to point out the obvious, but the song’s been this way the entire tour. It can be this way tonight. If you give your brain a break, you might get it right in time for the LA shows.”
He went quiet on her.
“Look, let’s go get some lunch. What about that diner your family used to go to? You can get pancakes, French toast, and the country breakfast.” She listened for a response. “And I’ll even let you get the waffles, too.”
Silence.
She pressed her ear to the door, and one second later, it opened. Just a crack.
Bex stood there in a rumpled T-shirt, messy hair, and enough scruff to make her want to run her fingers through it. And then he broke into a boyish smile. “Waffles?”
Her heart swelled to bursting. “Anything your heart desires.”
“I believe you. You seem like the kind of woman who’d make all of a man’s dreams come true.”
Heat blazed a trail from her earlobes all the way down to the soles of her feet.
What does that mean?
What the ever-loving-hell does that mean?
But then his expression shuttered again. “But I can’t go out while Van’s doing radio interviews. Thanks, though.” He shut the door.
“Fine.” Going back to the kitchen, she pulled some salads and drinks out of the fridge, found some snacks in the cupboard, and grabbed a sheet from the closet. Arms full, she kicked the door. “Open up.”
“In a minute.”
“If you don’t open the door right this minute, I’m going to hang a sign outside the bus that says Rock Star On Board. Come Party!”
The next thing she knew, the door flung open, and Bex stood there looking at the food in her arms. “What is all this?”
“Lunch.”
He relieved her of the bottles of sparkling lemonade. Just as he was about to set it all on the coffee table, she said, “Wait.” She spread the sheet out over it. “We’re having a picnic.”
When he didn’t argue, she glanced up to find him watching her with a delighted expression. He set the food down, and she went back for silverware and glasses. Then, they sat side by side on the couch and dug in.
She swiped a tortilla chip through the guacamole and stuffed the whole thing in her mouth.
