Page 41 of The Heartbreakers
Every muscle in my body ached from a long day of travel, and I’d thought I would drift off instantly. Instead, I stared at the ceiling. Alone and without any distractions, my mind wouldn’t stop thinking, spinning, fearing, because tomorrow I would see Oliver again.
We’d left off on a beautiful note.
In Chicago, when our paths crossed, I’d spent one exciting night with Oliver. It had been dazzling and so completely unexpected that it made me see stars. Then we parted ways, like I always knew we would, and in the morning the stars cleared from my vision. I was a little sad at first, especially when I wondered what things would’ve been like if Oliver was a regular guy and we’d met under different circumstances, but I wasn’t going to be unrealistic. We both had our own lives to live, which were on two completely different paths. I didn’t know if I’d upset him by not calling, but I had to do what was best for me.
Now, by some seriously comical twist of fate, my path had moved in his direction again. Our lives were suddenly intertwined, at least for the next two months, and I had no idea what to expect. Would things be like before, or had our time together only been exciting because we’d thought it was limited?
Either way, I was about to find out.
• • •
I was exactly two minutes early. Paul had told me to meet the band at six o’clock, and as I stepped off the elevator, my phone flashed “five fifty-eight.” My aim was to arrive ten minutes early since it was my first day, but I’d ended up changing twice when I had an outfit crisis.
Anyone who was sane was still sleeping, so the lobby was relatively empty. To be precise, three other people were present—the front-desk receptionist who was typing something into the computer, a janitor emptying the garbage, and a woman who was reading on the couch where I’d met with Paul last night.
None of the Heartbreakers or their employees were present, and my empty stomach rolled. I knew it was just nerves, but part of me worried that I’d somehow messed up the time and the band was already gone. I checked my phone again—now it was six.Getsomecaffeineandchillout, I told myself and headed toward the continental breakfast.They’re probably just running late.
As I stepped inside the small sunroom connected to the lobby, I twisted my nose stud between my fingers and took deep breaths. On the far wall was a service station with pastries, cereal, hard-boiled eggs, and a basket of assorted fruit. Ignoring the food, I went straight for the coffee machine. I was so focused on pouring my drink that I didn’t notice who was sitting at one of the tables behind me. When I turned back around, I nearly dropped my coffee.
He was reading something out of a magazine, and whatever it was put a scowl on his face. Next to him were a plate with an untouched glazed doughnut and a to-go cup with a tea bag dangling over the side. His wavy brown hair was messier than I’d last seen it, like he hadn’t bothered to brush it when he got up, and there were circles under his eyes.
“Oliv—” My voice cracked, so I cleared my throat and tried again. “Oliver.”
His head popped up. He blinked at me a few times, his mouth parting slightly, almost as if he wasn’t quite sure what he was seeing. After three long seconds, he scrambled to his feet.
“Stella, hey!”
“Hi yourself,” I said and offered him a tentative smile.
He smiled too and slid his dog tag back and forth on its chain. “It’s good to see you.” Then, before I knew what was happening, he wrapped his arms around me. It was the world’s quickest hug, but it still made me grin.
“Yeah,” I said, hiding the small smile with my hand. “You too.”
Before either of us could think of something else to say, someone shouted my name—or at least a very strange version of my name.
“Stella Ella Bella Bear!” JJ called out. I easily spotted him across the empty room, waving his hands as he tried to catch my attention. “You’re finally here!”
Xander stood next to him, his red-blond hair matted in the back—a style my brother called “pillow syndrome.” He yawned and removed his glasses to rub his eyes.
“Hey, guys,” I said, and when JJ reached me, he pulled me into a hug that lifted me clear off the ground. I couldn’t help but laugh. His friendly welcome helped ease some of the nerves that were making me jumpy.
“Like the nickname I’ve been working on?” JJ asked. “Now that you’re an honorary member of the band, I thought you needed one.”
“Um, it’s a little long,” I told him.
“I thought that might be a problem,” JJ said and shook his head like he knew better. “All right, just Bear then.”
“Since when do we have nicknames?” Oliver asked before I could tell JJ I preferred that he call me Stella. The only people who had pet names for me were Cara and Drew, and I didn’t want to get homesick already.
“Since always,” JJ said, smirking at Oliver.
“How come I don’t have one?”
“Oh, you have plenty. Tubsy Malone and Asshat are my personal favorites, but there’s Turd Burger, Douchenozzle, and Butt Nugget,” JJ said. Xander’s shoulders shook as he tried not to laugh.
“Don’t forget Dipshit,” Alec said, materializing behind Oliver. I nearly choked when I heard his voice—I’d never heard Alec openly insult any of the guys—but Oliver was unfazed and flashed his friend the middle finger. “Courtney’s waiting for us,” Alec continued, gesturing over his shoulder with his thumb. “Time to go.”
Oliver grabbed his tea and gave JJ the untouched doughnut, but he left the magazine sitting on the table. For a split second, I eyed it up as everyone followed Alec into the lobby. I was curious to know what had upset Oliver, and before I could change my mind, I snatched it off the table and shoved it inside my camera bag.
