Page 52 of Not Another Rockstar
“I can’t let you have dinner alone in Italy. Besides, I keep my promises.”
“What will we tell the others?” she asked, wondering how they could explain going away alone to a romantic destination.
“Like you said, you need to sort out the villa and I’m going to help you. My schedule is the freest since August is needed in production and Nick has to work out his vocals. They can’t argue,” Axel reasoned, and his plan sounded like it might just work.
“And Anita?”
“Doesn’t need to know,” he said firmly.
“Agreed.”
Axel started heading for the door, and she reached out to stop him.
“Wait!” She chuckled at his eagerness. He probably felt as housebound as she did. “You haven’t finished washing my hair,” she pointed out.
He paused, and nearly tripped over Bart.
“Right, bend over.” The command hung in the air, and she couldn’t contain her laughter as Bart looked between them. She’d never seen Axel blush before.
“Again? Really? Get your mind out of the gutter,” he said, as she handed him the shampoo and conditioner.
She could barely keep still at the excitement of getting out of the house.
“Ican’t believe we’re flying coach. We’re supposed to be keeping a low profile,” Phoebe groaned, sinking deeper into her snug airplane chair as the flight attendant informed them of the emergency exits and where the life jackets were.
“I didn’t think you’d be such a snob,” Axel said with a smirk.
That wasn’t what she meant.
“I’m not, but it’s a miracle someone hasn’t realised who we are.” She didn’t know how Axel sat so relaxed; she kept waiting for someone to ask for a picture or an autograph. Maybe throw another carton of eggs at them.
“You’d be amazed what people don’t see when they aren’t looking.”
“I love that your idea of being a master of disguise is wearing sunglasses and a baseball cap that has B.O.A.’s logo on it. Maybe you were a spy in a past life,” she teased, keeping her voice low so those behind couldn’t hear them.
“You wanted to leave as soon as possible, so I grabbed the last-minute seats. This was the earliest flight to Naples I couldget, and if I’d tried to take the plane, Anita would’ve found out and then it would be her we’d be worrying about.”
“You’re right, but we might as well be sitting on each other’s laps.”
In the past, she didn’t mind economy, but the person beside her didn’t have any arm or leg space etiquette and all six-foot-something of Axel was taking up the rest of the space. She felt like she understood how the sausage in a hot dog felt.
“Feel free to hop on at any time.” He smiled, patting his thigh.
“Like that wouldn’t draw attention.”
His long legs took up half of her space, but at least he had switched and given her the window seat. She hadn’t even had to ask.
“Fame is an illusion. Act normal, and ninety percent of the time you get treated like you’re normal. We made it through security with only a few lingering looks, so you can relax now.” Axel settled into his seat while her nerves stood on edge. “It’ll be the fastest three hours of your life.”
She thought about telling him about her recent “fan mail”—he would be more concerned too, if people were sending him gift-wrapped razor blades. She shook away the thought; she wouldn’t punish him for what he didn’t know.
“Stop telling me to relax. It’s my face plastered all over the news and headlines, it’s my presence that’s likely to cause us trouble. You are the beloved drummer and I’m the pariah.”
“You aren’t a pariah, and with your new hair, no one will blink at you,” he assured her.
“Except for the woman at the gate who eyed my boarding pass and passport a little too long for comfort.”
“Refreshments?” An attendant interrupted them as he passed their row.
