As more people boarded, Gigi lowered her voice. “To the people in this industry, I’m a Lollipop. I crank out the songs I’ve been given, wear the costume assigned to my character—I’m part of a package. If I try to go out on my own now, no one will take me seriously.”
And the worst part—what really scared her? She had no idea who she was. She’d dropped out of music school before she’d had a chance to discover her true style. Leaving behind Clean Beatz was scary, because the world saw her as a pop star, singing upbeat, silly songs.
The Lollipops might be an international pop sensation, but Gigi Cavanaugh on her own was nothing.
But she couldn’t get into that with her sister, not when Grant Banner had dropped onto the couch right near her. “I have to go. Talk later?”
“Call me when you settle into your hotel.”
“I will.” If she let them, the doubts would consume her. All she could do was forge ahead. Plan. Prepare. She had thirty days—that’s a good amount of time. She’d fill it writing songs, finding her voice as an artist.
Feeling calmer, Gigi settled into her seat. Had everyone boarded? If so, she might try to catch up on the sleep she’d missed the last two nights.
Closing her eyes, she heard the low murmur of conversation and the high-pitched whine of the engines. Good. They’d be taking off soon.
A stir of excitement filled the cabin, but she kept her eyes closed, hoping to drift off. Between her dad, once considered the best quarterback in football, and her mom, a former model, Gigi and her three younger sisters had grown up with famous people. She didn’t impress easily. Besides, she’d seen the list. No one on this tour rocked her world.
“Well, hell, man,” she heard the country star say in his gravelly voice. “Look who’s here. I didn’t know you were on this tour.” He laughed, and she heard some back thumping. “Can I get your autograph for my niece?”
“You bet.” That voice.
A shock of adrenaline punched through her system.
“And, if you get me an address,” America’s favorite playboy said. “I’ll send her a jersey.”
Her eyelids popped open. Cassian Ellis stood in the aisle, surrounded by the crew—even the pilots had come out of the cockpit—the country star, and a few other guests, everyone so excited to see the nation’s hottest quarterback.
For a moment, she forgot how to breathe. She wanted to sink lower in her seat. Disappear in a cloud of vapor. Her heart beat so fast it hurt.
He’s on this plane? This tour? She could not believe she’d be with him every day for a week.
No. No. No. Her dad wouldn’t do this to her. He wouldn’t. The soft leather seat had turned into a bed of needles.
She dug into her tote bag and pulled out her phone, shooting off a group text to her parents.
Gigi: Cassian Ellis is on this tour?????
Mom: Yes. He’s a last minute addition, too.
Dad: Got a problem with that?
Gigi: You know I do.
Dad: Get over it. This is about the kids. Not you and Cassian and some decade-old feud.
Feud? Feud?
For God’s sake, he slept with my best friend two seconds after I told him I wanted to be with him.
She’d done everything she could to get over him. To forgive him. To let it all go. She’d gone to college on the opposite end of the country, dated, read self-help books…you name it, I’ve tried it. But, nine years later, the betrayal had barely diminished.
She didn’t want to be this person who still hurt, whose heart still wrenched in pain every time she thought of him—of that night when he’d kissed her, then tossed her aside to hook up with someone else. He’d thrown away their friendship and the future she’d longed for.
Over the years, she’d seen him—hard to avoid when they lived in the same town, and he was close with her parents—but she always kept her distance. She had nothing to say to him.
And now the boy she’d loved so desperately had turned into a chiseled, gorgeous, elite athlete. His dark, glossy hair hit the collar of his T-shirt with a slight curl, and his biceps bulged with every handshake. Levis, nearly white with wear, molded over hard, sculpted thighs.
Like all celebrities, he intentionally didn’t look around the cabin to see who else was on board. If he did, he’d have to acknowledge them, get into a conversation. Instead, he dropped into a seat at the front of the cabin, so she’d have to see his broad shoulders and fat head the whole flight.
So much for a nap. She was too wired to sleep now. Mostly, she wanted to throw her shoe at him, maybe trip him when he got up to go to the bathroom. Anything to wipe that cocky grin off his face.
But her parents were right. This tour wasn’t the time or place to deal with her Cassian Ellis issues. The patients came first. She’d ignore the jerk—she was an expert at that. Besides, he’d probably be banging every nurse and oncologist he could get his hands on.
Her phone vibrated.
Dad: You going to handle this the right way?
Gigi: Of course. I just don’t know why you had—
Ohhhhh. She deleted the last sentence. There could only be one reason why Cassian would join this tour at the last minute, especially considering the timing. At the start of every summer, the jerk ran a football camp in Calamity for underprivileged kids. He wouldn’t miss it for anything.
Well, he’d miss it if he’d gotten into trouble. Again.
What’d he do now? She quickly typed his name in a search engine.
Hundreds of articles and images came up and…there it is. In the very first photograph at the top of the page, Cassian held a gorgeous, naked blonde in his arms. But he wasn’t focused on her. He was talking quietly, intimately with Dean Maddox. She read the headline.
Has Ellis’s Linebacker been Receiving More than a Football from his QB?
You’re kidding me.
A threesome?
With Dean?
She tapped out a text to her parents.
Gigi: I was really looking forward to this trip. I can’t believe you’d let some guy with a PR crisis come on it.
Dad: Oh, hey there, pot.
Gigi: I’m not…
Delete. Because, yes, she very well might have a crisis of her own. What were the odds her bandmates would stay out of trouble this month? Low. So, yeah, the Lollipops getting booted from their record label would be pretty scandalous.
Okay, well. Whatever. She was here because she loved singing for the patients. She’d just treat Cassian like the stranger he’d become. She closed her eyes, shutting out the conversation.
And there she was again, that seventeen year old girl who’d finally kissed the boy she’d loved so hard.
Come on. You know I don’t see you like that.
The memory hit her body like a hard slap across the face. God.
You have to let it go. You had a crush on a guy, and he didn’t feel the same way.
So what?
“Sorry, I’m late,” a woman said.