“Um. Okay.” I glance to Keith, and he just shrugs with a ‘this is Marco, so you better do as he says’ expression.
I’m not exactly given the chance. Marco grabs my elbow right above my brace and drags me over to the front of the plane while Keith heads to the back where the massive television is set up and Henry is already gaming.
Gus and Jasper are sitting in the middle facing each other with heads bent close, talking about who knows what in quiet tones. And it’s in this moment I realize just how big this plane is. There is a bedroom in the back. A freaking bedroom. And like two bathrooms, one with a shower, I was told. There’s a bar and a small galley kitchen and an office area. Huge.
It’s also my first time on a plane. I didn’t want to say anything to Keith but it’s true. But I’ve seen enough movies to know this is not your standard plane. Even for a private one.
“I’m freaking out.”
Marco rolls his eyes at me. “Stop deflecting. They’re rich. They own a plane. Get over it.” He points to a two-person bench seat that’s facing the front of the plane. We buckle up and the plane starts to move slowly, heading for the runway. “That night you bailed on them at the club the bill was fifteen grand. Jasper didn’t even blink an eye when he signed for it. Do you not realize who these guys are? Each concert night of this tour, they’re making over six million dollars. That’s thirty-six million over the next ten days, and that’s just these concerts. You feel me?”
Thirty-six million over ten days?! The plane picks this moment to pick up speed on the runway, tilting up and taking flight. My stomach swooshes up into my chest before it drops down into my feet. “I’m going to be sick.”
“No, you’re not. You lost your V-card and you’re sublimely happy and quite possibly in love with the gorgeous devil. The feeling is obviously mutual since Keith has never done this before. So dish it girl. Did he finally drop a scoop of ice cream on your cherry pie, if you know what I’m saying?”
I shake my head at him. “I don’t think anyone other than you knows what you’re saying. What the fuck do you mean ice cream on top of your pie?”
He sighs in exasperation. “Do I really need to explain the metaphor of cherry pie and ice cream?”
“I think that’s more of a euphemism than a metaphor.”
“Christ, Maia. Cut the shit and tell me if he fucked your brains out,” he yells over the loud humming sound of the jets.
I smack his arm, glancing over my shoulder at the other guys. “Shhh. Keep your voice down.”
“Right,” he snorts, sitting back and crossing his legs, getting comfortable for the trip up to Seattle. “Like everyone on here doesn’t already know. We knew Keith had a thing for you from like minute one.”
I sag into him, resting my head against his butter-yellow shirt. Incidentally, it matches quite nicely against the soft leather of the seats. “Yes. The whole ice cream on my cherry pie.” I hiccup out a laugh. “I can’t believe I just said that.”
“Own it. He certainly is. You’re the only one having a small kitten over it.”
That’s because Keith doesn’t get it. Neither does Marco. They don’t know what it is to struggle the way I do. To have things you worked so hard to get ripped away from you. To lose everything, and then, when you think it can’t get any worse, it does.
“What happens to me when this turns south?” When Keith grows bored or loses interest? When I’m no longer the bright, shiny new toy? When the thrill of what was forbidden is over and he’s sated his desire and wants something new?
Because inevitably, that’s what will happen.
It always does.
Like Murphy’s Law, that’s how predictable my life is with this stuff.
He tilts my chin up so I’m forced to meet his dark eyes. “Do you mean with your job or the fact that you’re living with him or that you’re in love with him?”
I shrug. “All of it,” I say, not even bothering to lie about the love part because what’s the point in that? He’s said it enough times that it’s a foregone conclusion. “Not the living part so much because I’m already searching for apartments. I can’t stay with him any longer. My arm is on the mend and I won’t mooch off him any more than I already have. Especially now that we’re sleeping together.”
His brows knit together. “Does Keith know you’re doing that?”
I nod. “I mentioned it.”
He shakes his head, his lips pinching to the side. They smell like raspberry gloss and I love Marco so much.
“Sweets, I can tell you now, the man won’t like that. He’s insanely protective over you. Be that as it may, your job is your job and who you fuck is who you fuck. The two are not related, even if they are. You technically work for me and the band, and you’re doing an incredible job. They won’t let you go, and neither will I, so put that part aside. There is no reason to think anything will go south just because it has in the past.”
“It’s hard to imagine otherwise when it’s all I’ve known.”
He hums, thinking about that for a moment. “I can understand what you’re saying, but for now, focus on the tour. Focus on the fun. This is the dream, babe, and you’re living it. You’ve got a cool job and an awesome boss” —he winks at me— “and you’re getting hot and sweaty with a man who not only adores you but looks like a party favor from God. Just relax and enjoy it.”
Enjoy it. The dream. He’s right about all of it.
And if, when, I get my heart broken, well, at least I know how to weather that storm.
***
“Have you ever been to Seattle?” Keith asks as he tosses his arm around my shoulder in the back of yet another humungo black SUV. We’re driving through the gray-skied streets, past such beautiful scenery it’s impossible not to be glued to the window.
“Is that meant to be a joke or are you being ironic?” I retort. “I’ve been to the place I grew up and Los Angeles. Any pit stop on my trek out west was exactly that. I couldn’t even tell you one town from the next, but no, I haven’t been to Seattle.”
“I’ve been all over the world but I’m not sure how much any of us have seen of it. One city bleeds into the next. One hotel the same as the one before it.”
“Strange we’ve never rented an island,” Henry muses and all of us turn in synchrony to him. He grins with a shrug of his shoulders. “What? We’ve got Ady and now Cora. An island would be fun. Think of Ady in her cute little purple bathing suit splashing in the waves. Might be weird being the only single one of us, but that’s life, right?”
“When did you become fucking Viola?” Gus asks, and all of us start cracking up because that is exactly something Viola would suggest.
“Fine,” Henry growls. “But my wingmen are dropping like flies.” He glares at Keith who just smirks.
“Sorry, not sorry, dude.”
I inwardly smile at that. Or outwardly, since I’m rubbish at holding in my emotions.
“It’s cool. I’ll just hit it up with one of your sisters next time they come for a visit.”