Page 60 of The Heartbreakers
“In fact, I think she’s considering killing me right now,” he said, glancing in my direction. “She’s got this murderous look in her eyes.”
“Oh, please,” I said and crossed my arms.
“Yup,” Cara said. “Definitely sounds mad at you. What did you do?”
“I called you without her permission.”
“You should have asked!” I exclaimed.
“She would’ve said no,” Oliver explained, talking to Cara instead of me. “She’s been a grump all day even though she won’t admit it, so I had to do something. I figured talking to you would cheer her up.”
Cara’s brilliant laughter burst through the phone. “She’s stubborn like that.”
“Are you two done talking about me yet?” I grumbled, but the irritation I felt for Oliver was lessening each time I heard Cara’s laugh.
I didn’t even end up talking with Cara. Instead, Oliver stayed on the phone with her for an entire hour talking about all sorts of things, and I listened. When he finally said good-bye and hung up, I silently slipped my phone back into my pocket.
“You’re not angry, are you?” he asked after we sat in silence for a few seconds.
“No,” I said.
“You sure? You’re awfully quiet.”
“I’m sure,” I said and smiled. “What you did was really sweet.”
Not only did he make Cara’s day by talking to her, but he cheered me up. Just knowing that she was happy was the medicine I needed. I’d never really thought about Oliver and I having a “friends only” relationship—it was just a decision I’d made on the spot. But now I was realizing it wasn’t so bad, because Oliver was proving to be a really caring friend.
“My pleasure,” he said, “but my motivation was purely self-serving. I wanted to see that smile of yours.”
Then Oliver leaned over and tucked a strand of loose hair behind my ear, and I froze under his fingertips. The smile he claimed he wanted to see faltered. This close, I could smell Oliver—the cinnamon scent of his cologne and the laundry detergent he cleaned his clothes in—and I breathed him in. I knew this was dangerous, how close we were, but I didn’t know how to pull away.
“Oliver!” JJ shouted, and his sudden outburst made us jump apart. I hadn’t heard him return, but it was impossible to miss his yelling. “Oliver, where are you?”
“Dude!” Oliver called out in response. “Chill. I’m right here.” He whipped his head around so he could see over the back of the couch, and JJ barreled into the room like a bull chasing red.
“What the hell is this?” he demanded.
There was something clutched in his hand, and when he reached us, he slapped it down on the coffee table. We both leaned in to get a better look. At first glance, I thought it was a picture of Oliver, which it was, but then I noticed the text running alongside the image. It was a magazine that JJ had folded in half, open to an article on the Heartbreakers.
Oliver looked from the magazine to JJ and then back down. He studied it for a moment before saying, “I don’t get what the problem is.”
“Hmm, I don’t know. Maybe this bullshit interview?” JJ snatched the magazine back up and started reading out loud. As he did, Oliver sucked his cheeks in. “When asked about the band’s future music, Oliver Perry was very forthcoming. ‘Our next album will be pretty similar to what we have out now. Our fans obviously love it, so why mess with something that’s working?’ What the hell, Oliver?”
“I told you I was doing this interview,” he said with a shrug. “I still don’t understand why you’re being such a dick. That sounds good to me.”
“This isn’t what we talked about,” JJ said, jabbing the article with his finger. He was wearing one of his standard, ribbed cutoff tees, and I could see his muscles and veins straining against his skin as he spoke. I’d never seen JJ lose control like this before, and I held my breath, unsure of what to do.
Oliver sucked his teeth. “Yeah? What exactly did we talk about, JJ?”
“Are you kidding me? We spent a whole day brainstorming different ideas for the new album, none of which included the crap we’ve already done. You said—”
“Well, maybe I changed my mind,” Oliver snapped before JJ could finish what he was going to say.
JJ took a step back, and his head moved with a slow, disbelieving shake. “Are you being serious right now?” His neck and ears were still flushed red, but his face had drained of color.
Something about JJ’s tone must have registered with Oliver because his face softened and he unclenched his fists. “Look, JJ. I’m sorry. It was just one stupid article. Nothing’s set in stone. You know that, right?”
“Do you?” JJ shot back, and I frowned, not quite following the conversation. “Because it doesn’t seem like it.”
