by Lauren Rowe
“I think you’re right about that,” Keane says. “Honestly, Maddy couldn’t possibly love me as much as I love her because no person in the history of time has ever loved another person as much as I love Madelyn Elizabeth Milliken, so help me God.”
My mom exchanges a look with me that tells me Keane just melted her heart.
Keane continues, sounding stoned as fuck to me, but, clearly, not to my clueless mother, “I’m gonna marry that girl one day, Momma Shaw. Maddy’s gonna be the mother of my eighteen babies and I’m gonna take care of her and our family till the end of time, just like it’s been for my mom and dad.”
“Eighteen babies!” Mom says. “Does Maddy know about your big plans?”
“Not yet. We haven’t talked about marriage and babies yet. Although, hold up. When Z got tickets to Aloha’s show in LA for Maddy and me, Maddy told Z we’d name our firstborn Zander or Zanderina. Does that count as planning for children?”
Mom laughs. “I’d say so.”
“Woo-wee!”
Everyone laughs.
“Come here, you sweet little Pooh Bear, you,” Mom says to Keane. She links her arm in Keane’s, on the opposite side from me, making Zahara step aside to make room for the lovefest. “Now, tell me, honey, how long have you known this girl you’re gonna marry one day?”
“Four glorious, life-changing, enlightening months.”
Mom can’t help but scoff. She isn’t doing it in a bitchy way, more like a “Oh, you clueless child!” kind of way. She says, “Four months, and you’re already sure you want her to be your wife and the mother of your eighteen babies?”
“I’m sure, ma’am.”
Zahara flashes me a look like, You’re next in line for the bitch-slapping, dude, so get your cheeks ready. And I lovingly motion for my sister to fuck off.
“Oh, you think I’ve forgotten about you over there, Zander?” Mom says suddenly. “I haven’t.”
Oh, fuck.
Mom links her free arm in mine while continuing to walk arm in arm with Keane. “Now let’s have a little talk, honey. I noticed you looking at Aloha like you think she walks on water and I want you to rein that shit in, son.”
Zahara and Keane laugh.
Mom continues, “We both know you have an impulsive streak, Zander. A leap-now-and-look-later streak.”
“He does. He really does,” Keane says. “It’s his signature quality, I’d even say. Besides his big, tender heart. The boy wears his tender heart on his sleeve.”
“Yes, he does. And while I love that about you in so many ways, I don’t want it leading you down the wrong path when it comes to this new career. This is too good an opportunity for you to mess it up by thinking you can let down your guard completely around this woman and say whatever damn fool thing pops into your head. Trust me, you can’t say whatever you’re thinking with her and you most certainly can’t do whatever you’re thinking.”
Boom. Well, there it is. If I’m understanding what my darling mother is telling me, she believes any potential, hypothetical romance with Aloha won’t end well for me, either personally or professionally. And, of course, it could never end with Cinderfella sweeping the pop princess off her feet.
Mom rests her cheek against my bicep as we walk. “Just think with your big head and not your little one, okay? And you’ll be fine.”
I glance at my sister and she looks sympathetic. I glance at Keane and he looks like a jellyfish. “Thanks, Mom. I’ll do my best.”
We reach the skybox entrance and stop to wait for the rest of the group straggling behind. As we wait, I lean into my sister’s ear. “I gotta talk to the Morgans real quick. Put out this fire. Can you get Mom outta here for ten minutes?”
“You got it.” Zahara pinches my arm and then addresses our mother. “Mom, I’m gonna hit the bathroom before the concert. Will you come with me?”
“Oh, yes. I’ve had lots of Miss Aloha’s delicious champagne and I don’t want to have to get up during the show.” She giggles, pats my arm, and winks. “You’re such a good boy. You always make me so proud.”
“Thanks, Mom. That’s always the plan.”
I watch my mom and sister walk away and then stride into the skybox with Keane and everyone else, my heart beating like a steel drum. I have no desire to bare my soul to this motley crew right now. But I feel like I have no choice. Almost all the major players on the bet are here, all in one place, while, at the same time, Barry, my mother, and Aloha aren’t. The stars are briefly aligned. I’ve gotta seize the moment.
I work my way to the front railing of the skybox and turn around. “Hey, everyone. Can I have your attention for a sec? Hi. I’ve got something important to tell you—and I gotta do it fast.”
Every eyeball in the skybox trains on me.
I take a deep breath. “With two days still to go in month one, I just want to inform you that I’ve officially fallen head over heels in love with Aloha.”
Ryan and Kat—the two most vocal one-monthers—cheer and high-five each other while everyone else looks some version of surprised, happy, or just plain concerned.
“So congrats to all the one-monthers. Spend your winnings wisely. But here’s the thing, guys. I haven’t told Aloha how I feel and don’t want her knowing yet, if ever. Yeah, I know she’s theoretically in on the bet for month two, but she only placed that bet to razz me. She didn’t take things seriously back then and neither did I. To both of us, the whole thing was a silly game at first. But it’s not a game anymore. At least for me, it’s become very, very real.”
Kat looks at her mother like “We suck” and Mrs. Morgan clutches her heart and nods in agreement with that nonverbal assessment.
I glance at the door to make sure the coast is clear, and when there’s no sign of my mother and sister, I return to the group again. “Unfortunately, I’m positive Aloha’s not in love with me. Yet. But my plan is to change that—to do everything in my power over the next two months to make her fall for me. And that means I gotta, you know, play it cool for a bit so I can slowly win her over while not scaring her away.” I look toward the door again. “Also, I don’t want my mother or Barry finding out about the bet or my feelings for Aloha, and both of them are gonna be at dinner tomorrow night. So, please, could you guys keep a lid on this until you’ve been advised explicitly the cat is outta the bag? No jokes. No funny looks. No innuendos or overt comments. Please?”
Everyone simultaneously expresses some variation of “of course” or “we’re sorry for being heinous people” or “we didn’t mean any harm.”
Louise Morgan stands, her hand on her heart. “Oh, our beloved Zander. We’re so very sorry if what we thought was harmless fun has caused you a moment of anxiety. Shame on us.” She glares at her kids for a long beat. “I’m ashamed of myself for playing along with these hooligans. Of course, none of us will say a word to Aloha or anyone else about your feelings.” She looks around at the group. “You got that, you horrible monsters? Let our beloved Zander woo that adorable girl in his own time, without any interference by his so-called ‘loved ones.’”
Everyone expresses their promise to stay mum and toe the line.
“Morgan Mafia: activated,” Kat says, leaping up and standing by my side. “But just so you know, Zander, if you change your mind and decide you do want us to help you—”
“No helping!” I blurt, and everyone laughs. I look at Josh and Henn. “Hey, you two haven’t said anything about the bet to Reed or Barry, right?”
Both men say it hadn’t even occurred to them to mention it and promise going forward their lips will be sealed.
“Thanks, guys,” I say, exhaling from the depths of my soul.
Keane stands. “Okay, new bet, everyone. Who here thinks Aloha will fall for Z before the end of the tour?”
Everyone raises a hand.
“Please, guys,” I say. “No more bets, for the love of God.”
Everyone laughs.
“For the love of God what?” my mother says, striding
into the skybox with Zahara.
Kat slides her arm around my waist. “Oh, Z was just saying he’s grateful to God we could all get together tonight because he’s missed everyone so much while on tour.”
“Amen to that,” Mom says. “Praise Jesus.” She smiles at me. “I’ve missed you, too, honey.”
The earnest look on my mother’s face melts me. She’s bossy, my mom, that’s for sure—and, man, does she have some strident opinions about a whole slew of topics. But, damn, if that woman doesn’t love her kids more than life itself. “Thanks, Mom. I love you.”
“I love you, too, baby.”
We share a smile, just as the lights in the arena dim.
Instantly, the crowd in the arena—including in our skybox—begins cheering and applauding in anticipation of the show starting any minute. But since I’ve seen this concert a shitload of times by now—although, granted, never from actual seats, let alone luxury box seats like these—and since I therefore know for a fact there are a solid seven minutes between the lights dimming in the arena and Aloha walking onstage, I settle into my seat, pull out my phone, and begin tapping out a long overdue text:
Hey Daphne. Sorry I haven’t responded to any of your texts or voicemails. I didn’t mean to ghost you. I just didn’t know what to say until now. You were right to break up with me. You did us both a huge favor. I know I told you I loved you, but in retrospect, I didn’t know the meaning of the word. My whole life, I’ve used the magic words far too quickly, too liberally, too casually. I’ve used them before developing genuine trust with someone. I’ve confused the promise of love, the hope of love, for love itself. And now I understand, finally, that’s what you were trying to explain to me. I now understand that a woman can’t feel loved while sitting atop a pedestal. She only feels trapped way up there. Like she’s in a gilded cage. I’m sorry I didn’t understand. I do now. I truly thought I gave you “everything,” but now I see that giving “everything” to someone, when you haven’t listened to what they actually want, feels to that person like a whole lot of nothing. D, you’re a beautiful, talented, sweet person and I wish you all the happiness and success in the world with whatever and whoever awaits you. I’ll always be grateful for what you taught me. And I’ll always be your friend, rooting for you from afar. But it will most definitely be from afar. Z
Just as I press send on my message to Daphne, two large screens on either side of the stage begin projecting images of Aloha—visions of her blowing kisses, laughing, dancing, and generally seducing the camera. And everyone in the arena, including me, stands and loses their shit in anticipation of Aloha’s big entrance.
The band strikes the opening chords of Aloha’s first number, and, of course, everyone freaks out even more.
Thousands of illuminated hibiscus flowers—the flower Aloha so famously wears in her hair on the cover of the Pretty Girl album—explode across the pink backdrop of the stage and then burst into a thousand stars. And, again, the arena loses their collective shit. A shock of pink lights and pyrotechnics blast our eyes, leaving every person in the building blinded for a gleeful, heart-stopping half-second before a Plexiglas elevator pops up from beneath the stage and delivers the woman we’re all waiting to see. And off we go. As the band whips everyone into a frenzy, Aloha marches out of her Plexiglas cage and begins belting out her monster hit.
Sheer pandemonium overtakes the arena as Aloha struts across the stage in her thigh-high boots and blingy corset and sparkling flowers in her hair, trailed by her armada of insanely talented backup dancers.
“Hellooooo, Seattle!” Aloha bellows between verses of her song, her voice filling every nook and cranny of the huge arena.
And, of course, the crowd responds in kind, welcoming their idol to the Emerald City with open arms and shrieks of euphoria.
“Are you ready to have some fun with me tonight, Seattle?”
The crowd responds enthusiastically.
“Good, ’cause I need to let off some steam tonight! Let’s have some fun together and forget the outside world exists! Sound good?”
The crowd roars its agreement.
Right on cue, Aloha falls in line with her dancers and launches into a rigorous choreographed routine that makes the crowd shriek its approval and bop and sing and dance along with her.
And that’s it.
I’m gone.
Again.
But not really again, actually. No, this time feels different. Because this time, unlike every time before, I’ve finally got my whole heart to give Aloha. And not only that, tonight, unlike any other night, I can envision Aloha as part of my world. Before tonight, I was always Aloha’s bodyguard. It was her world and I was just living in it. But tonight, after seeing her with my people—all the people I love the most—after watching Aloha step into my world and fit right in, I know in my heart this could work for us. No, that this will work for us. Tonight, for the first time, ever, I’m watching my woman on that stage... even if she doesn’t know it yet.
Chapter 34
Aloha
Best. Night. Ever.
Maybe even literally.
The song blaring is “There’s Nothing Holdin’ Me Back” by Shawn Mendes. And right now, as I dance at Captain’s on a makeshift dance floor with this amazing group of people—this mind-blowing fusion of my peeps and Zander’s—the song feels more like the soundtrack of my life, rather than a simple tune playing in a bar.
When I headed offstage after my show earlier tonight, I raced to my dressing room, hell-bent on sending a text to Zander that commanded him to meet me in my hotel room with fifty condoms as soon as humanly possible. But there was already a text from Zander awaiting me.
PEENIE GOT THE PART! We “kids” are gonna ditch the parentals and celebrate at Captain’s. Ryan called ahead and shut the place down so our favorite pop star can get shitfaced among friends without a care in the world. I’ll head backstage to get you right after the show, so shower and wrangle whatever peeps you want to join us at Captain’s and tell them to get their asses onto the bus I’m sending to the backstage door. Baby, I’m not your paid bodyguard tonight. I’m your man—the man who’s gonna put his penis inside your happiness the minute we get back to the hotel. And, in the meantime, get you nice and wet all night long in anticipation. Z
I replied to Zander’s thrilling text with a simple “Yasss!” and then quickly instructed Crystal to herd my peeps onto the bus while I showered. And mere minutes later, I was in street clothes and gleefully racing to the back door to await Zander. When he appeared a couple minutes later, I crushed my lips against his, right then and there, without worrying someone might see me do it—maybe even wanting someone to see—and then we boarded the bus together, hand in hand, both of us floating ten inches off the ground.
And now, here we are, dancing the night away at Captain’s with this amazing fusion of Zander’s peeps and mine: all my backup dancers and musicians, plus, Crystal, and Brett, on my side of the “aisle,” and the entire Morgan-Faraday group, minus parentals and plus Zahara, on Zander’s side. Reed Rivers is also here, minus his obnoxious date from earlier, thank God, though I’m not sure if he’s technically one of my peeps or Zander’s. Either way, since he was smart enough to ditch his date and he’s clearly having a blast with his best friends, he’s more than welcome at this shindig, as far as I’m concerned.
Oh, and last but not least... I almost forgot. An adorable flight attendant also joined the party an hour ago—a short redhead wearing a Delta uniform and rolling a carry-on suitcase who burst into the bar, beelined to Tessa—at which point both women jumped for joy—and then ordered all the tables and chairs in the entire place pushed to the walls and the music cranked up so we could turn our “gathering” into a full-blown dance party. And we’ve been dancing like fools ever since.
The Shawn Mendes song ends and a new one—“Silvertongue” by Young the Giant—begins. And, of course, I lose my mind. I love this song! And by the reaction of everyone around me, they lov
e it, too.
One of my dancers, a guy named Darius, starts doing some acrobatic breakdancing in the middle of the dance floor, and everyone forms a circle around him to cheer him on. And just that fast, we’ve got ourselves a dance battle, folks. Another dancer takes “center stage” in the circle after Darius, showing everyone what she can do, and the crowd goes bananas. And on it goes, with dancer after dancer coming into the circle to thrill us with their incredible moves.
And then things take a turn to the hilarious when Henn, the hacker, bursts into the middle of the circle to show us his stellar moves. Ha! Let’s just say Henn should stick to his day job. But even though he’s not a talented dancer by any stretch, he’s by far the most entertaining dancer of the battle. So much so, he’s got every person in the crowd doubled over and crying from laughter.
By the time Henn leaves the circle, we’re a voracious mob. Hungry for more. So, Josh and Kat leap into the middle and perform a clothed porno that makes everyone scream and cheer and, I’m guessing, wish they could be a fly on the wall when those two get it on for real. Damn.
When Josh and Kat leave the middle of the circle, Ryan and Tessa replace them and dazzle everyone with the sexiest salsa known to mankind. Gah. Again, with the sexiness! What is it with this crowd?
A few more dancers follow until, finally, that redheaded flight attendant pulls an adorable dancer of mine named Kai into the middle and the pair puts on a master class in grinding for our hooting pleasure. Holy hell, if Kai were straight, there’s no doubt in my mind he’d get lucky with this one tonight.
When the grinding show ends, the Morgan-Faraday group begins chanting “Ball Peen Hammer! Ball Peen Hammer!” So, of course, Keane answers the call, strutting into the middle like he’s the headliner of a Magic Mike revue.
After showing us some jaw-dropping moves as a preliminary tease, Keane grabs a nearby chair, pulls his giggling girlfriend into it, and proceeds to give her an enthusiastic lap dance that makes everyone, not just Maddy herself, lose their freaking minds.
