Fan Girl (Los Rancheros)

by Brandace Morrow

  We look at each other, studying one another’s faces for a long time. Finally he remarks, “So that’s why you were so tight.”

  I roll my lips in and bite them as I shove his shoulder. He chuckles and holds his hand up to ward me off. His laugh makes my breath catch, and he hears it. His smile slowly fades and he puts his hand back down on the bed. I swallow and look away.

  I tell him quietly, “I wasn’t going to keep it at first. I went to the clinic two months ago to get it done, but I couldn’t do it. It seemed so selfish.”

  “So you decided to keep it?” he asks neutrally. He is giving me nothing, I have no idea what he’s thinking.

  I nod slowly, deciding I need to make my position clear. “I want you to know I don’t need your money. I’m set. I just wanted you to know about the baby. It seemed like the right thing to do.”

  He looks me in the eyes and says, “Thank you for keeping it. Have you had any appointments?”

  I nod. “Yeah I brought the ultrasound picture just in case you wanted to see it. I leave tomorrow, though.”

  He moves his hand to mine and links our pinkies together, studying our hands when he asks, “Can you stay and fly home with me tomorrow night?” When he looks back up, he sees my confusion. “Ali we’re gonna be in each other’s lives for the next eighteen years at least. We need to get to know each other. And there’s the other thing.”

  I shake my head, “What other thing?”

  He looks down at our hands again and bites his lip with his perfect teeth before looking back up and saying, “The sexual chemistry thingdonthitme.” He says the last part in a rush.

  “Aw, is the rock star scared of the little bitty girl?” I ask him in a baby voice.

  He shakes his head. “You don’t hit like a girl.”

  I tell him smugly, “Kickboxing.”

  He looks confused. “What?”

  I explain to him “That’s how I lost weight. I went to an MMA/Kickboxing gym six days a week for four years.” He looks at me squinting his eyes, before his face clears and he’s back to smiling. “So you really could kick my ass? That’s pretty hot, actually.”

  I shake my head and he says exasperated, “You know it was good, Ali.”

  I shoot back, “Yeah but I’m not gonna be your baby momma and hook up whenever you’re in town, then have you jet off with super models or something.” No way in hell.

  He gives me a no bullshit look. “Ali, that’s not what I’m saying. I’m saying we work in bed, we worked for a long time as Redy and DD. Let’s just see how it goes as Ali and Dek.”

  I jerk my head back and ask skeptically, “You would be willing to be monogamous?”

  His answer is immediate. “Yeah, with you. I don’t do girlfriends. You should know that. I’ve never been seen with anybody, ever. But we’re gonna have a baby. Shit, that doesn’t seem real yet. But we are, and I don’t want to hide that. I’m not ashamed to have a kid.”

  I lay back and let my mind spin. Okay, so the father does want to be involved. It sounds like a lot involved, as in, try to be with me. That would certainly help with him ruining me for other guys. But could he stay with just one girl when he’s used to flitting around from skirt to skirt? I just don’t know. I think I owe it to this baby to try to make a family. And what if my dream guy turns out to be Deklan and his one is me? Wait a minute.

  “You said that you believed you would know the one when you found her. You’ve known me for years platonically, and once four months ago physically. You should know by now right?”

  He rolls onto his side and rests his head on his hand. “Ali, when I said I have never been in a relationship and that I was tired of first dates, it’s because I’ve never wanted to go back for seconds. If I slept with someone that was it.”

  I interrupt him. “That’s why I left that night, well both nights actually. I knew it was just a hookup. I never expected anything else.”

  “Then you should see the significance of me approaching you last night, and before that, wanting to do you again when I woke up that morning. I certainly did after you left me at the bar. In fact I knew it before then, when I realized I didn’t even get your name. Speaking of that why did you tell me your name was Alaina?”

  “Did you look at my license today? My name is Alaina Dawson Pierce. My parents called me Alaina, so everyone knows me as Ali. The tickets are under Ali Pierce, but when I started tattooing I went by Ali Dawson.”

  He thinks about this, then asks suddenly, “What’s your shop name?”

  “Shell Distortion.”

  “I know that place! Holy shit, small world. It’s all chicks right?”

  I say offended, “Yes it is.”

  He rubs my arm gently before saying, “Relax babe, I just never realized how close we were.”

  Ack! He called me babe! How am I going to keep this straight in my head? I really didn’t want to get my heart broken. I don’t have experience with guys. At all. I don’t know how this game is played. Or whether I should be playing it. I sigh. “I should get to my room. I guess I’ll go to the spa or something tomorrow. I need to text Stacie though and let her know I won’t make my flight.”

  “Holy shit, Stacie! Bobby’s sister, right? Is she still as vapid as I remember?”

  I laugh and reply, “Only around hot guys. Then she loses brain cells.”

  He eyes me softly and fingers a piece of my hair. “Thank God you don’t act like that.”

  “I’ve never acted like that. Ever. I think it was because when I was fifteen and unschooled in the way of boys, I saw how many times you pushed those girls away. Including the irresistible Stacie.”

  He gives a smug grin. “That’s the second time you’ve inferred, if not outright mentioned, that I’m hot.”

  I roll my eyes. “Get over yourself.”

  “You did. It’s okay, you can admit it.”

  “I’m not admitting anything.”

  “You wanna test that? I made you scream, I think I can get some words out of you.”

  “Annnnd on that note, I’m leaving.” I sit up and he pulls me down by my arm so I’m lying on my back.

  He looks down me and changes the subject. “Can I see your belly?”

  I look at him curiously. “Do you think you’re ready to be a daddy, Deklan?”

  He looks off for a second, then looks at my face again before saying quietly, “I think I might be.”

  I slowly pull up my shirt to bare my stomach. It’s still flat but the bump is there if you’re looking for it. “Give me your hand,” I tell him. He looks at me suspiciously, then puts his hand out. I take it and put it below my belly button and press in a little bit while rolling our fingers. “You feel that? Feels like a balloon.”

  He nods his head.

  “That’s where the baby is.”

  He wiggles his fingers back and forth, then smiles big enough for me to see his dimples

  “Cool.” That’s all he says, but it’s enough for now.

  I tell him softly, “I really do need to go.”

  He looks down to my belly then slowly leans his head down and kisses where his hand was. My heart stops, my breathing stops, my whole world stops in that second. I have flashes of him doing that when it’s huge and round. Then I tell myself to wake up.

  Chapter 13

  I wound up sleeping until just before I had to be downstairs at the spa. I had just enough time to brush my teeth and slip into my hotel robe and flip flops, before having to jump on the elevator to the second floor where the spa was located.

  Waxing with a full body massage was first, followed by a facial. After that was lunch in a heated sunroom that had an inspiring view. I decided on a Roquefort, pear and sausage dish that resembled a pyramid. After the mani-pedi I was done. I hadn’t taken my phone with me, so when I got back to the room that was the first thing I checked. One text from Stacie telling me everything was okay with the shop and wishing me a nice flight.

  Deklan/Redy also wrote asking how the spa was.
I decided I was going to the pool to kill the hour until it was time to get ready, so I quickly texted him back.

  DirtyDozen: Spa was a success. I’m waxed, and polished to a shine. How was your day?

  RedyGo: Waxed? Is that auto correct? What are you doing now?

  DirtyDozen: Down boy! I’m going to the pool for an hour before it’s time to get ready for the show.

  RedyGo: How about I just meet you at the pool and finish the solo phone interviews I have left there. Would you mind that?

  Does he miss me, or just want to see me in a bikini? Probably the latter, I think. But my stomach flips anyway.

  DirtyDozen: Sounds good. See you then. It’s on the top floor.

  I brush my hair and redo the sloppy knot at my crown, then change into a bikini. It’s a black tube top with a huge bow in the middle of my chest in a blue teal, and the bottom is black with a small teal bow on one hip. I put cat-eye sunglasses on my head and black sandals on my feet. The cover up is a sheer, black men’s shirt, sleeves rolled up to the elbow and buttoned halfway. It hits me upper thigh, super cute.

  When I get down to the pool there are only a few people there, but this is Paris so they are very scantily clad. The whole room is bright on this sunny day.

  I take off the cover up, slide my sunglass onto my nose, and settle in the lounge chair. Shortly after a server approaches, taking my order of red wine. I did some reading during my pedicure, and it turns out I can have one glass a week of red because it’s good for you. When the server gets back, I thank him and snatch the glass off of the side table. Closing my eyes I savor the first mouthful of a very good cabernet. A soft moan slips out of my throat before a voice interrupts my bliss, and my eyes shoot open.

  “Mmm, is that for me or the wine?” Deklan rumbles as he towers over me.

  I can’t see anything because the sky is so bright, but I know that voice.

  “Absolutely the wine, my eyes were closed. I read today that I can have one glass of red a week.”

  “Not wasting any time, huh?” he asks.

  I shake my head, “Nope, I’ve been going without for over three months.”

  He laughs. “I’ll have to ask the server, so I can stock up if it’s that good.”

  I take another sip. “It really is.”

  “Maybe I should have a taste,” he says before leaning down and pressing his lips to mine. I freeze for a second before my body melts into the lounge and turns to putty. It starts out with closed lips, but when he opens, I follow, and he dips his tongue in my mouth for a short lick. “Mmm, you’re right, it is good,” he decides against my lips, before sitting on the lounge chair next to mine.

  What do you say after that? I try to get my brain rebooted. “So how was your day?” I ask.

  He sighs, “Long, very long.” A waiter comes over to ask what he wants to drink, and he orders a beer. He’s looking good in a black button-down shirt, sleeves rolled up showing tattoos, black and white pin stripe slacks and black loafers with no socks. His hair is done in the James Dean hair roll, and he seems to have shaved today. I kind of miss the scruff.

  When the server brings back the beer, he takes a long swallow before looking over at me. “So, my day. Three radio stations that have to be interpreted both ways, five magazines asking the same twenty questions, also interpreted. We try to have fun with interviews when we can, but humor is lost in translation most of the time. Or by the time it’s all repeated you’re laughing two minutes after the joke.”

  “That does sound tedious. You said you have more?” I ask.

  “Yeah, two more with interpreters on speaker with the reporter. They’ll call my cell phone.”

  I nod. “At least you have days off when you get home. Any plans?” I’m not fishing, really.

  He gives me a half smile. One side of his mouth tips up before he says, “Golfing, sleeping, surfing, doing nothing, sleeping, taking a ride to nowhere on my bike, did I mention sleeping?”

  I laugh. “Once or twice. You must be exhausted.”

  He goes on to explain, unnecessarily, how this tour was three months all over Europe. Before that was the North American tour, which lasted four months, with a one-month break between. I pretend this is new information.

  “It is so exhausting it’s not funny sometimes. But we have to pull in the fans and reach them out there before going back into the studio for months. Tours are what bring in the revenue, to supply us to make the next tour even better. It’s a tiring, never ending circle.” He sounds wiped out. Then he rallies with, “But, it’s a fun way to earn money. I couldn’t be working a desk job, I can tell you that.”

  I smile and believe him, but the thought of him in a suit and tie gives me a thrill nonetheless.

  “Do you think you’ll do this forever?” I ask him. I can’t imagine living out of a suitcase for over ten years.

  “As long as we can sell out shows and make it to the top of the billboards, we’ll keep going. Before we start every new album, we get together and make sure we’re still on the same page. We always agree we can’t stop until there’s nothing to write about, so even if we don’t stay together as a band, we’ll always be involved in the industry. Fandy and Alan have gone on the road with other bands, and Tag loves producing. He did Daniel Walsh’s last album.”

  “Wow, I didn’t know that about Tag! And country, too! I guess it’s good to change things up,” I remark.

  He nods. “Yeah. Not that it’s ever boring. There are always fans trying to break into buses and backstage. Stalkers and crazies coming out of the woodwork. Rumors flying everywhere. It keeps us on our toes.”

  It sounds stressful to me. “Yoga.”

  He gets a confused look. “What?”

  “That’s why you love yoga. It calms you down, and you can control you,” I try to explain the thoughts running in my head.

  Deklan’s expression clears, and he gets a warm look on his face, “Exactly.”

  Just then his phone rings. He sets down his beer, leans back in his chair, puts his feet up, and answers the call. I take another sip of my wine and listen to the stock questions. How the tour went? When will they come back? What is the new album going to sound like? When will it be out? After the call, he picks the beer back up. “One more to go.”

  We sit in silence and drink our alcohol of choice, just enjoying each other’s company, I think. I’m sure enjoying his. Finally I ask, “How’s your mom?” I know his dad died when he was young and never remarried. She’s a nurse for a pediatrics unit in L.A. Now the comments that Redy made over the years about ‘his mom’ make sense in this new Deklan world I’m in.

  He smiles. “My mom is great, dating. I finally got her to try yoga, and she loves it. Won’t retire. When I get home I’ll take her out to dinner, then she’ll come try to baby me for as long as I’m home.”

  I smile back. He loves his mom. “That sounds great. She only babies you after you take her out? Sounds like my kind of woman,” I tease.

  He laughs. “Yeah, but I have to take her out the day after I get home. She would love you.”

  My heart goes warm. “I’m sure I would love her, too.”

  His expression is open and the warmest I’ve seen it. He opens his mouth, and just then, his phone goes off again.

  Deklan closes his eyes, reaches for it, then launches into the same questions all over again. My phone chimes in the middle of the interview, and I lean over to get it off of the table on the opposite side of us.

  I hear, “The new album is going to be doing what we love, a little bit of rock a little…” then nothing.

  I turn around to see what stopped him, and he’s staring at my back. Oh the tattoo! His eyes are intense, and I lift an eyebrow at him.

  He looks at my eyes then shakes his head like he’s coming out of a daze. “Umm…. yeah a little rock and roll, a little soul,” he finally finishes into the phone.

  Five minutes later he hangs up, then sits up and faces me. “You ready to go?”

  I grin a
nd nod my head, agreeing. Standing up, I turn around to grab the cover up and hear a growl behind me. I try not to laugh as I shake it out, then I feel his warmth behind me and I pause.

  Deklan reaches around, snagging the soft material. “I’ll take that.”

  He holds it out for me to put on, then plants an open mouth kiss on my neck that sends shivers throughout my body. He whispers in my ear, “I missed your tattoos.”

  I turn around, buttoning my shirt saying, “I’m sure you’ve had girls with tattoos.”

  “Trust me, nobody ever looked like you do.”

  I like that he loves my tattoos. He has a ton, but some guys are turned off by it.

  We move to the elevators, and when we get in he says, “Hey, you remember the last time we were in one of these?” With a smirk.

  I roll my eyes. “Don’t start.”

  He behaves on the short descent, then takes my key card and opens the door himself.

  Once in the room, he sits on my bed.

  Going to my closet, I ask, “What’s the plan for today?”

  He runs his hands through his sexy hair mussed up hair, and says, “Sound check, then I have to pack my bags on the bus. After the show is dinner, then we get on the jet.”

  I nod as nonchalantly as I can. “Okay,” I tell him, then leave the room before the sight of Deklan in my bed makes me want to roll around with him in it. Rolling Bridges sound check? Hell yes I want to go! That’s good. Focus on that.

  I decide on a white and navy blue horizontal striped cotton hoodie, with a deep green Hollister puff vest over it. Blue seven for all Mankind skinny jeans and dark grey cardy, Uggs. A silver Steampunk, old-fashioned key necklace and black and a navy vertical striped snakeskin bag. I walk back out to change purses, and Deklan is holding the ultrasound picture of our little peanut that I’d left on the dresser. He hears me and turns, looking me up and down.

  “When are you supposed to start showing?” he asks.

  I turn without answering and head to the bathroom to redo my ponytail and fix my makeup.

  He follows me, leaning against the doorway and continues, “I was just wondering. You can’t tell at all. I don’t know when that happens.”