Page 18 of The Heartbreakers
“Come on, Stella. Where’s your sense of adventure?”
“Um, hiding under the couch hoping not to get arrested,” I told him.
They both laughed. “Touché, but you won’t get arrested. There are perks to being in a band. We have a key.”
“Well then,” I said, turning back to JJ and Xander. “Looks like we’re going swimming.”
• • •
“Why exactly are we ditching your bodyguard?” I whispered to Oliver as we stepped off the elevator and onto the fifth floor. This late at night, only one man was actively guarding the band, and the boys had come up with a plan to sneak away from him that involved me retrieving a swimsuit from my room. Somehow I ended up with Oliver as my escort.
He smiled at me like a little boy. “Because it’s fun. Besides, do you really want him standing at the edge of the pool watching us swim?”
“No,” I said and shook my head. “Not overly.”
“Yeah, didn’t think so.”
As we rounded the corner toward my room, I glanced back at Oliver’s bodyguard. He was still standing in the elevator, hands folded in front of him as he waited for us to “grab my suit,” the one I had never packed. When we were out of his sight, Oliver picked up the pace and rushed right past my room.
“Wait. I want to grab a T-shirt for a cover-up,” I told him.
“Not enough time,” he told me as he shook his head. “Once we’re gone for too long, he’ll come looking for us. Then the guys will be able to sneak out.”
“What am I supposed to wear in the pool?” All the guys had their own swimsuits, and JJ had offered to loan Drew one of his extras.
“Your underwear,” he said like it was no big deal.
“I am not swimming in my bra and underwear. Did you hear JJ before? Your friend is a total perv.”
“What’s the difference between a swimsuit and underwear? They look exactly the same.”
“The difference is that one is acceptable to wear in public and the other isn’t.”
“You’re not going to be in public. It’s just us guys.”
“Yeah, just you guys that I met like four hours ago.”
“If you’re so uncomfortable, just leave your camisole on. But I don’t understand why you’re being so self-conscious. You look great.”
I opened my mouth to argue, but then I realized the compliment he’d paid me.
“Come on,” Oliver said, completely unaware of how flustered he’d made me. “If we don’t hurry, he’s going to find us.”
Oliver pushed open the door to the stairwell, and we started taking the steps two at a time. I kept looking over my shoulder, afraid that his bodyguard was going to burst into the stairwell and attack me. Maybe he’d even accuse me of kidnapping Oliver. I could see the headline in my head: “Teenage Girl Abducts the Heartbreakers’ Lead Vocalist!” As absurd as it sounded, I was starting to get nervous.
“Are you sure we won’t get in trouble?” I asked Oliver.
Before he could answer, two girls opened the door to the fourth-floor landing just above us. They glanced down as Oliver tried to pull his hoodie up over his head, and suddenly I understood why he insisted on wearing a sweatshirt in such hot weather. But it was too late—the girls did a double take when they realized who he was.
Oliver looked up at them, and I noticed his hesitation, but then he grinned at me and grabbed my hand. “Come on.”
We flew down the steps before the girls had a chance to shout out his name. By the time we reached the first floor, I was breathless. Not because I was out of shape, but because something about being with Oliver as he was being chased was surprisingly exhilarating. I could hear feet pounding down the stairs and a chant of “Oliver! Wait up!” but we didn’t stop.
Pushing open the door, Oliver poked his head out into the hallway to make sure the coast was clear before tugging me after him. We raced down the empty hall, and I realized we were going in the wrong direction. The pool was on the other side of the hotel.
“Hey, where are we going?” I asked. “I thought we were meeting the guys at the pool.”
“We’re making a pit stop,” he whispered to me as we crept down the hall. His eyes were scoping out possible fan girls, his body pressed up against the wall as if that might hide him. Oliver squeezed my hand as we continued to tiptoe down the hall, and I realized that our fingers were still intertwined.
