Keeping the Beat

by Marie Powell

  “I’ve got a little treat for you,” he said. “To keep you entertained while I’m finishing up my business.”

  “Treat?” she asked, still breathless from his kiss.

  “You’ll like it,” Tomas said with a grin. “Promise.”

  He dropped a round white pill engraved with a smiley face into her palm.

  “A hit of that and you’ll be having so much fun you’ll never want to stop,” he promised. Then he kissed her deeply once more before fading into the crowd.

  Robyn stared down at the little tablet. She shouldn’t take it. She knew that. This wasn’t like taking Tomas’s diet pills. This sort of pill was purely recreational.

  She didn’t need it, Robyn knew that, too. She was high enough on pure excitement after the show to party until dawn. She briefly considered flushing it and lying to Tomas, saying she’d taken it and she loved it, but he’d know she hadn’t. Then he’d remember that she was really just a chubby, inexperienced girl and probably ditch her for one of the hoards of Hollywood beauties that were everywhere in the Crush house tonight. Before she had a chance to think about it any longer, Robyn downed the pill and swallowed.

  There, that wasn’t bad at all. Tonight was going to be the most perfect night of her life. She just knew it. And she wanted to be perfect for it.

  She looked down at the clingy purple tank top she wore draped over a pair of black leggings and flat, sparkly sandals. She loved this outfit. It showed off every sleek contour of her fit new body, but right now that included the slight bulge that her indulgent dinner of cocktail shrimp and chopped veg with ranch dressing had left in her otherwise perfect stomach.

  Robyn had promised herself she’d stop the throwing up once she’d made it to a size two. And she had. Mostly. She hadn’t thrown up after a meal in nearly a week, which proved, really, that she had it under control. She didn’t have to worry about it because she could obviously stop whenever she wanted. She’d even gained two pounds since she’d stopped, and that hadn’t started her up again. She had it all totally under control, especially now that Tomas had brought her a fresh batch of diet pills. It was just for tonight. For Tomas. It was totally worth it.

  Iza sat on the edge of the patio, feet dangling over the canyon, head on Luke’s shoulder. The city sparkled below her. Luke’s hand traced lazy circles on the small of her back.

  “I can’t believe we actually did it,” Iza said. “We rocked so hard, didn’t we? I can’t believe we were that good. I honestly thought we were going to fall flat on our faces, but we didn’t … Of course we’re still running behind in the online polls. We probably won’t —”

  Then Luke was kissing her and the anxiety just floated away. It was always that way when he kissed her. Luke was the only person in the universe who knew how to find each of the frantically ticking anxiety bombs in her brain and switch them off all at once.

  “You were amazing,” he said, pulling back and grinning down at her. “Which means you can stop worrying about all the ways you might not have been amazing and just chill out for a second.”

  “All right then,” Iza said, closing her eyes and leaning against his shoulder. “Officially chilling out now.”

  She felt more than heard the chuckle rumble through his chest. She loved that sound. She loved everything about this moment. She would be quite content to never move again.

  “Iz,” he said. “I’ve got bad news.”

  Her heart plummeted from the stratosphere right through to the bottom of the pool beside them. It had been too good to be true, she thought. The whole summer had been too good to be true and now —

  “I’m not going to be able to go to Vegas with you guys,” he said in a rush. “I’m so incredibly sorry. It’s the same day as the John Williams retrospective at the Bowl and three other violins have already called in vacation days and I just didn’t check the schedule in time to beat them to it. I’m the world’s worst boyfriend, I know, but I just hope … Please don’t be too mad.”

  Iza looked up at him, dazed. He wasn’t breaking up with her. In fact, he was terribly nervous that she would hate him for not rearranging his entire schedule to be in Vegas with her. But that wasn’t the part that had struck Iza completely mute with … Lord, she didn’t even know what this feeling was. The part that was turning her deaf and dumb was the part where Luke Thomson, the man of her dreams, had just called himself her boyfriend.

  “You hate me,” Luke said and dragged a hand through his shock of blond hair. “And you have every right. This is your big night and I should be there for you.”

  Iza couldn’t help it. She started to laugh.

  His worried face collapsed into his puzzled I-don’t-understand-girls-at-all face.

  “Not the reaction I was looking for,” he said finally, still sounding concerned, “but I guess it’s better than pushing me in the pool and never speaking to me again.”

  The very thought of that sent Iza into another gale of giggles. She did try to stop laughing, but she couldn’t seem to control the hysterical waves of mirth that had taken control of her.

  “You’ve had a mental breakdown,” Luke guessed, the contagious laugh starting to infect his voice. “You’re about to snap and strangle me with your bare hands?”

  Iza managed to get enough control of herself to shake her head, still giggling.

  “So you’re not mad?” he asked hopefully.

  She shook her head again.

  “Well, clue me in then,” he said, “because this is not the reaction I prepared myself for.”

  Instead, she gave in to the mad spirit that had infected her with its wild laughter and leaned in to kiss him. It was the first time, she realized, that she’d ever kissed him first. It caught him by surprise, but soon his arms were wrapped around her, drawing her close.

  After a long minute, she let her head drop to his shoulder and snuggled close.

  “So I guess you’re really not mad at me?” Luke ventured.

  “Of course not,” she said against his chest. “It’s sweet of you to have even tried to get out of a concert for me.”

  “So why the giggle fit?” he asked. “Not that I didn’t thoroughly enjoy it.”

  She felt suddenly shy. Like if she pointed out what he’d said, he might take it back. But shy was the old Iza. New Iza could do anything.

  “You called yourself my boyfriend,” she said, pulling back to look up at him. “That’s the first time you’ve said that.”

  “And you find it hilarious?” He looked stung at the thought.

  “No,” she said quickly, “I find it marvelous. That’s why I was laughing, I think. I was just too happy to do anything else.”

  A slow grin spread over Luke’s face. Almost as big as the one Iza could feel tugging at her own lips.

  “Oh,” he said. “That’s okay then. That’s more than okay. Marvelous, huh? I like that word.”

  She snuggled against him again and stared up at the dim LA stars. She was having a thought. A thought she didn’t know if she was brave enough to say out loud, even now.

  “What’s going on in there?” Luke asked, running a soft hand over her hair. “I can hear you thinking from here.”

  Oh God, could he really? Iza buried her face against his shoulder, sure she was turning pink.

  “You can tell me,” he said gently. “Whatever it is. There isn’t anything you can’t tell me.”

  “Well.” She took a deep breath. The worst he could say was no, right? He wouldn’t think less of her. This was Luke, after all. Her boyfriend. Her real, honest-to-goodness boyfriend. “Well, I was thinking … I was thinking that I don’t want you to go home. Tonight, I mean.”

  He pulled back a bit so that he could look down into her face.

  “Really?” he asked. “Are you sure … I mean, I had assumed you were …”

  “Oh, I didn’t mean …�
� Her face was positively burning now, but she plowed ahead. “I didn’t mean like that … I mean, someday, I hope, like that …” She couldn’t believe she was saying this out loud. “But I am. I mean, I am … a virgin, that is. And I’m not ready to … um … not be a virgin. I just thought … I just don’t want you to leave, that’s all,” she concluded, feeling suddenly thoroughly lame.

  “I don’t want to leave either,” Luke said, grinning. In fact, he wasn’t only grinning, he was blushing as well. As brightly as she must be.

  Iza couldn’t help it. She started to laugh again. The wild, irrepressible happiness just couldn’t come out any other way. Luke rolled his eyes, but he was starting to laugh along with her. Soon they were both lying on their backs, feet in the pool, laughing so hard they could hardly breathe.

  “Hey, do you have a minute?”

  Toni braced herself when Jason’s voice intruded on her quiet perch at the end of the upstairs hallway, overlooking the raging party below. She’d known this was coming since Jason had appeared at the house that morning three weeks ago. She’d told herself she was ready for it when it did.

  She wasn’t ready.

  Toni turned to face him, heart in her throat. The cameraman tasked with following her that night was already walking away up the hall at Jason’s request for privacy. She and Jason were alone.

  And the last time they’d been alone together …

  “Toni,” he said, reaching out to take her hand. “Toni, I’m so sorry.”

  He looked quite miserable, Toni noted with surprise. Like he hadn’t slept in days. She didn’t know what she’d expected, but certainly not the look of sheer torment in his eyes.

  “You don’t have to say anything,” he continued. “I don’t deserve … Toni, I can’t tell you how sorry I am. You have every right to report me to Alexander and Sir Peter. Sir Peter will probably fire me, but I deserve that. I did everything wrong with you, and with Crush. And I just wanted to tell you, I’m sorry.”

  “You’re married,” she said, so quietly she wasn’t sure he could hear her. “How could you do that? Why? Why would you … kiss me?”

  “You didn’t know?” Jason said, shock filling his voice. “I thought … I … of course you didn’t know.”

  Toni had spent the last three weeks wondering how she could possibly have not seen it. Everything seemed so perfectly obvious now. The quick phone calls he always took, no matter what was happening, when his phone chirruped that one particular ringtone. The pink and purple striped yoga mat in the back of his car. His plea for Toni to leave that night before something happened between them. He’d been trying to stop what was happening before it was too late, and she’d just ignored him. How could she be the sort of person who would do such a thing?

  “Toni?” Jason’s voice punched through the suffocating bubble of shock. “Toni, are you all right? Oh, kiddo, what have I done to you?”

  She tried to speak, but found that there was no room for words in her throat. The magnitude of her own stupidity was filling up all the space between them, sucking the air out of the room.

  “Jason?” Skye stood at the top of the stairs. “The reporter from Vogue is looking for you, he … Toni, are you all right?”

  “Toni,” Jason said. “Are you okay?”

  Toni opened her mouth, then closed it again. Was she all right? She had absolutely no idea. All she knew was that she had to get out of there. Now. So Toni did the only thing she could think to do.

  She ran.

  Down the stairs, through the masses of celebrating fans and out into the cool Los Angeles darkness.

  11. Sharp Things

  The concert was over, but the party was just getting started and Harper could hardly believe her luck. Skye had just blown Rafe off to find Jason about a work thing. Again. It was the fourth time in about fifteen minutes that Skye had brushed Rafe aside to deal with some business nonsense or other, or network with some teen star. If Skye had put on a sandwich board that read I don’t give a crap about my boyfriend, the message couldn’t have been clearer. And Rafe wasn’t missing it. Not this time.

  He’d been a little distant with Harper since Toni’s little outburst at The Echo, at least in public. His texts told a different story. Rafe and Harper were talking now like they hadn’t in ages — like they hadn’t since they’d been together. And now Skye had given Harper the perfect opportunity to finally make her move.

  Harper took a big slurp of the chocolate milkshake she’d dosed with Jack Daniels, exactly the way Rafe liked it. Not for courage, but just to make sure it was strong enough.

  Officially, there wasn’t any alcohol in the house. Unofficially, she and Toni had been stocking up their rooms on a regular basis after they’d arrived in LA. Sneaking in the booze past the house cameras had been fun, like they were in a heist movie. And tonight she was going to pull off a heist for real. She was going to steal Rafe Jackson’s heart.

  He was sitting deep in the corner of one of the sofas that had been pushed back against the walls, brooding. She dropped down beside him, letting the sag of the cushions under his greater weight slide her to his side.

  “Why the long face, cowboy?” she asked. “Not having fun?”

  “Not especially,” he grumbled. “Skye’s run off again and I’m not about to bust in on Luke’s game right now, am I?” He waved in the direction of Luke and Iza who were across the room, bouncing along with an upbeat tune, making funny faces at each other and generally being sickeningly adorable. “So here I am, sitting around by myself. Great.”

  “Drink this,” Harper said, depositing the milkshake in his hand, “and follow me. I guarantee that you will shortly find yourself having a fantastic night.”

  “Guarantee, huh?” Rafe said, studying the shake and then Harper. “What are you up to, Harp?”

  “Up to?” she said, letting her voice sparkle with feigned innocence. “Why would I be up to something just because I want your sad-sack backside off my couch and having a good time at my party?”

  He wasn’t buying it for a second and she knew it. Then again, she wasn’t trying to hide the fact that she wanted him. The question was whether he wanted her back.

  “Fine then,” he said, taking a long swallow of spiked milkshake. “I guess I have no choice but to obey your every whim.”

  “No,” she said, allowing a satisfied smirk to spread across her face. “You really don’t. After all, I’m a superstar, and this is my house.”

  “Well, technically it’s my father’s house,” Rafe pointed out. He took another big slurp of his drink and reached out to teasingly muss her hair. “But I suppose I’ll let you lay claim to it. You girls did just send us all to rock-and-roll heaven, after all.”

  “Exactly,” Harper said, allowing herself to revel in the memory. “We were absolutely incredible, weren’t we? Being up there … it’s like flying. I’ve never felt anything so perfect in my whole life.”

  “You really love it, don’t you?” Rafe asked.

  “Yeah, I really do,” she said. Harper hadn’t realized it until she’d said it out loud, but it was true. Crush had been a means to an end before, and now … it was much more than that.

  “Come on.” Harper shook off her attack of deep thoughts and started toward the back door.

  And then it happened.

  Rafe reached out and took her hand. All on his own.

  Harper had to fight not to overreact as he led her out to the patio. It had been almost a year since he’d broken her heart. A year of struggles and work and sweat and tears to get Crush this far. To get herself this far. And she was finally here. Holding Rafe’s hand again.

  “I dare you,” he said, pointing to the pool.

  “Dare me what?” she countered.

  “Jump in,” he said, eyes sparkling with mischief. “Fancy sparkly number and all.”

  He was talking about
the sequined Miu Miu minidress Harper had changed into for the party. It was hot pink, it was beyond sexy and it was Harper’s favorite dress. There was no way it was going in the pool.

  But there was also no way Harper was turning down a dare from Rafe Jackson.

  “Nope,” she said, matching his devilish grin. “The dress is not going in the pool.”

  “You’re no fun,” he said, pouting into his milkshake.

  “I said the dress wasn’t going in the pool,” Harper continued, reaching down to hook a finger under the stretchy hem. “I didn’t say anything about me.”

  It was a good thing she’d decided on a set of cute but substantial underwear, she thought as she stripped the dress off, tossed it on a lounge chair and cannonballed into the pool. Otherwise Jason would kill her when the inevitable videos made it to YouTube.

  “Pool party!” someone yelled, and soon underwear-clad bodies were raining down into the water around her. Harper grinned up at Rafe as he waded in beside her.

  “Only you,” he said, laughing as he pushed her wet hair out of her face. “Only you could strip your clothes off in the middle of a party and get away with it.”

  “That’s why you love me,” she said, grinning. And then she froze in horror. Had the l-o-v-e word really just come out of her mouth? Oh, crap. But before she could panic further, Rafe let his hand slip through her hair to cup the back of her head, drawing her closer.

  “You’re right,” he said. “It is one of the things I love about you.”

  Then his mouth dipped down to hers for a long, breathless kiss.

  Harper leaned into Rafe and let the kiss unwind, basking in the awesomeness of their limbs tangling in the bright blue water like they would never let go, as they were buffeted by the splashing of the other partygoers.

  That was when she heard the sirens.

  Lucy needed a moment of quiet.

  She was nearly positive that she’d talked to more people tonight than she had in her whole life. Reporters. Fans. Boys. She wasn’t sure which she found more shocking — the adoring boys or the adoring fans. Eight months before, she’d felt lucky to have friends to eat lunch with at school. Now she couldn’t seem to find a moment alone.