“I swear to God, Will Davidson, if you so much as glance at my boobs right now...”
He shook his head but his eyes stayed level. “Wouldn’t dream of it. But to answer your question? Yes I have noticed a body part that really did something for me. But not what you’re thinking.”
I lifted my right eyebrow. “Oh really.”
“I mean,” he shifted his eyes away from me toward the door and then back. “I can’t say that I didn’t enjoy that little show earlier, but that’s not your body part—parts, I guess—that really do it for me. I mean, they do, but that’s not what I’m talking about right now.”
I crossed my arms over the towel and widened my eyes in expectation, bracing for him to say my butt or maybe my long legs. Or perhaps he had a foot thing—even without the polish, I’d always thought I had nice feet.
“Your smile,” he said.
My brain screeched to a halt. “What?”
He nodded, his eyes finally dropping below my mine, but only as far as my mouth. “Your smile. You have a great smile. The way your one tooth pokes in front of the other.”
“Seriously? The flaw in my teeth does it for you?”
His eyes flicked back up to mine. “It’s character. There is perfection in your imperfection. It’s not big enough to be really crooked, just a little...imperfect.”
“You’re imperfect,” I said. “Like, nuts imperfect.”
“Maybe,” he said with a shrug. “Anyway, you wanted to know. Now you know.”
“Well, it’s weird,” I said, trying not to focus on what my mouth was doing because it felt weird that he’d noticed my smile, had studied it, apparently. Great, now I was self-conscious about smiling. How did I normally hold my mouth? I felt like I’d just been to the dentist and had swollen lips. Feeling awkward, I dropped my eyes, just in time to see a bead of sweat roll down the crease in the center of his chest.
Nope, can’t look there. I trained my focus on my hands in my lap and forced myself to just keep talking. “But at least you don’t get hung up about eyelashes. That’s legit pathological.”
“Probably,” he said with a snort. “Though...”
When he didn’t continue, I looked over at him. “Though...?”
He glanced at me. “I guess this is the sauna of truth, we’re in, right?”
I nodded. “Of course. What happens in the sauna stays in the sauna. Everyone knows that.” We were joking, but at the same time, I was fully aware that we were making a confidentiality pact; something serious was coming. I glanced out the window, still a bit worried about being interrupted, but Sandy was either asleep or meditating, her eyes still closed, her head resting on the lip of the hot tub. I made a mental note to keep checking in case it was the former. I did not need the drama of having to save her from drowning.
“Well,” he began. “I’ve been accused...uh, apparently I fall for girls too quickly.”
I chewed on that for a minute until he looked up at me. “Okay,” I said, starting to not love being in the sauna of truth. What else was he going to confess to? “Wait, who accused you of that?”
“My ex,” he said with a humorless laugh.
“Emmie Somerville?” I asked.
He nodded. “We were together for a while but I think it meant more to me than it did to her.”
“Ouch,” I said.
“Yeah. And if that wasn’t bad enough, then I fell for her roommate this year.”
But that meant... I cocked my head as I narrowed my eyes. “Wait. Her roommate was Brooklyn.”
“Exactly.”
“Wow. Complicated,” I said.
“Very.”
“Okay, so you were into Brooklyn, but if you and Emmie were over...”
“We weren’t. Not completely.”
I gave him a look.
“I didn’t cheat. It wasn’t like that,” he said. “It was sort of messed up between us for a while. Both of us were pulling away, but it was a while before either of us wanted to make a clean break. Like you said: complicated.”
I wondered which one of them ended it. Not that I was going to ask. “No kidding. Do you still have feelings for her?”
“Which one?” he asked.
“Either, I guess.”
“I...” he shoved his hand through his hair and then looked around. “Is it hot in here? It feels hot in here. Like a pressure cooker or something.”
I laughed. “We should probably get out of here. It can’t be healthy to stay in here until we spontaneously combust.”
He didn’t move off the bench, instead glancing up at the clock on the wall. “I think the timer’s only set for another few minutes anyway.”
“So you didn’t answer my question,” I gently reminded him. “About if you have feelings for either of them still.”
“I don’t think so. No. I don’t. I just...I don’t know. Emmie was right that I get caught up in it and fall kind of hard too quickly. I’m sort of a sap.”
“You’re a romantic,” I corrected.
“I guess,” he said, looking embarrassed, which was freaking adorable. Though I wouldn’t tell him that in a million years. “Can I tell you a secret?”
“This is the sauna of truth,” I said very seriously. “You are morally obligated to spill secrets in here.”
The right corner of his mouth turned up. “I love romantic movies.”
“Ugh,” I said, recoiling away from him. “You are a sap. That’s it, you need to give back your heartthrob boy band card.”
That earned me a laugh. “Well, I might be in a boy band, but I’m hardly a heartthrob.”
“You’re kidding, right? Do you not own a mirror?”
He gave me a baffled look and then looked down. “I...it sounds so conceited to say I figure I’m okay-looking, but heartthrob? I don’t think so.”
“Do I have to spell out for you that you’re in a boy band? They’re not exactly known for their members being just okay-looking.”
He waved me off. “I’m just a fill-in.”
The only thing that got me worse than eyelashes? Modesty. Real modesty. Not the fake garbage that so many musicians put out there. There was nothing fake about Will Davidson. Especially in the sauna of truth.
Be strong, Vanessa, I told myself. “Can I tell you a secret?” I said.
He gestured around us toward the sauna walls.
“I’m really serious about this one,” I said, looking intently into his eyes. “You have to keep this one to yourself, hope to die.”
His lips thinned out, all traces of his joking smile gone as he nodded and crossed his heart. “Of course.”
“I am not saying it will happen because there are all sorts of contracts and other things going on that I’m not a part of, but my dad wants to keep you.”
Dave’s eyes widened at that, telling me this was news to him.
I went on: “You have to believe me when I say it’s killing me to feed the ego of a musician, and I feel like I’m betraying Chris by saying it, but you’re the best of the bunch. Of all of them.”
Dave opened his mouth, then closed it, and I wondered if he had been about to protest, but then realized what I was saying was the truth. He had to know it but maybe he hadn’t heard it out loud before.
“What about Chris?” he asked. “He’s got to be about ready to come back. I wouldn’t want to take a spot from him. Not that Tony has said anything or if I even want the job if he did, but...”
“You know, we’ve been so busy that I haven’t had a chance to even think about Chris coming back. But I’m sure my dad’s been in touch with him and it’s been...” I tried to count the days since Chris’s emergency surgery, but couldn’t—too much had happened since for me to figure it out without a calendar in front of me. “Anyway, I don’t know what he has planned. Though I guess this is something a tour manager should know,” I added sardonically.
“Maybe,” he said. “But you’re only filling in and already have plenty on your plate. I’m sure he will catc
h you up when he has news.”
I nodded at him, appreciating the reassurance. “Anyway, I’m not telling you that for any reason other than it’s the truth. But if you ever tell anyone—especially my father—that I said any of this, I will not only deny it, but I will then have no choice but to kill you in your bunk.”
“Understood,” he said.
I glanced out the window but Sandy hadn’t slid under the water. In fact, she was looking over toward the sauna like she was waiting for us. “We should get out of here,” I said. “I actually did want to sit in the hot tub. We got massages as part of our spa package today, so I don’t want to stiffen up.”
“Massages? Man, I should have gone with you. I did laundry and took a nap.”
“Naps are underrated,” I said. “Especially ones had in real, full-sized beds.”
“True story,” he said, and I could tell he wasn’t even joking. “Still it would have been nice to get a massage—my arms and shoulders could use it. I’m not used to this much playing and rehearsing.”
“Maybe at the next layover,” I said, making a mental note to check and see if there was a spa near where we’d spend our next day off. Wherever and whenever that was.
“I’m guessing your toes were part of the package?” he asked, nodding down toward my feet. “Very cute, by the way.”
“Thanks.” I stood up on the bench below us. “So, we good?”
He paused and then said, “We didn’t talk about the elephant.”
“No, we didn’t,” I said, feeling my heart speed up and pound hard against my ribcage.
“I...the most important thing is that I don’t want it to be weird for us, Nessa.”
“Me neither,” I said honestly. “Besides Sandy, you’re my best friend on the bus and I want it to stay that way.”
“Me, too.”
“You ever think...” I began but then sort of stalled out.
He cocked his head to the side. “What?”
I shrugged. “Maybe you fall into infatuation quickly. Maybe it’s not the real thing, you know? Maybe you’re just a serial crusher.”
He cringed.
“Sorry,” I said. “I don’t mean it like it’s a bad thing. Obviously you’re not falling for every single girl you come across.” I nodded toward the window and my best friend who I suddenly felt I was betraying.
“That’s true,” he said.
“And you obviously have good taste.”
He grinned at me. Adorably.
“So...” I took a deep breath because it was weird talking about this. It was so weird discussing his crush on me like it was some sort of annoying virus or wart. Something to be endured, gotten over, disregarded. “We just carry on. Maybe we don’t have to slaughter the elephant. Maybe we just need to put it in a cupboard. Who knows, maybe it’ll disappear on its own.”
“Is that what you’d like?” he asked, the grin gone. “Do you want the elephant to disappear?”
I wasn’t sure how to answer that but before I could formulate anything remotely intelligent, he shook his head and said, “That was an unfair question. We’re on tour. We’re living together in a tin can with your father and a bunch of other people, and you only just broke up with Andy. It’s all moot anyway.”
“Technically, though he thought otherwise, I wasn’t with Andy,” I said, feeling the need to clarify. “But I guess we did break up in that I eliminated the possibility of a future with him.”
“Either way.” He put his hands on his knees and stood up, gesturing for me to step down off the bench ahead of him. “Consider the elephant put away.”
I reached for the door handle but stopped and looked at him. “We’re good, though?”
“We’re good,” he said.
“Now we’d better get out there before Sandy thinks you impregnated me in the sauna of truth.”
He asked, “How would she even tweet that?”
I laughed and opened the door.
Overheated Refrigerator
“About time,” Sandy said as we approached the hot tub. “I was starting to wonder...”
Not wanting to drop my towel until the last possible moment, I stalled, waiting to see what Dave was going to do. While we’d just said we were good, I half-expected him to leave the pool deck completely and go pack up for the bus.
It probably wasn’t a bad idea, since we were expected to report back in just over an hour, a point I was just about to make to Sandy when Dave spoke.
“I was telling Nessa about all the medicinal and restorative properties of saunas.”
I guess it was as good a cover as any. I lifted my right eyebrow slightly. The corners of his mouth turned up, but only a tiny bit. If I hadn’t been looking for it, I probably wouldn’t have noticed.
“That must have been a riveting lecture,” Sandy said dryly, leaning her head back and closing her eyes again. “Sorry I missed it.”
“I’m going to cool off,” he said, angling his head toward the pool.
When he turned away from me, I whisked off my towel and dropped it on the deck, quickly slipping into the hot tub.
I turned back just in time to watch his lean body arc and then slice into the water, hardly making any splash.
“Day-um,” Sandy said, having opened her eyes to watch. I looked over at her; she was fanning her face with her hand. Obviously she’d been playing it cool up until he dove into the water.
“Why didn’t you come back in the sauna?” I asked as Dave surfaced and started front crawling to the far end of the pool. Between his swimming and the noisy bubbles of the hot tub, I knew we wouldn’t be overheard.
Sandy’s eyes flicked from the pool back to me. “Sorry I bailed on you. He... wow, he looked so cute in there and he was sweating and...” She blew out a breath. “Too much, you know. Overwhelming. That refrigerator is hooooot, if you know what I mean.”
I did.
“Anyway, sorry again. I hope the lecture wasn’t too boring.”
I waved her off. “It was fine,” I said, resisting the urge to say anything more than that or she’d get suspicious we hadn’t been talking about saunas at all. “But I think you need to figure out a way to get over this crush on him.” For many reasons, I didn’t say, because the obvious one was enough.
She nodded, her eyes still on him as he did a smooth turn when he got to the end of the pool, the kind of move one would expect from an Olympian. I didn’t know what kind of PE they were teaching over at Westwood, but at Rosewood our swimming unit didn’t cover cool stuff like that. At least that I’d noticed—Sandy and I had spent most of our time goofing around and trying to pull each other’s bathing suits off. Bonus points if we did it in front of our swimming coach, Mr. Carlisle.
“I know,” she said absently and then turned back to me. “I think I have a plan of how to do that.”
Even if the end result was her getting over Dave, the sudden gleam in her eye was worrying. I looked at her sideways. “What?”
“Don’t say it’s crazy until you hear me out,” she began.
“It’s crazy,” I said.
She rolled her eyes. “What did I just say?”
I moved my right foot around under the water until I found a jet, letting the water blast into my arch. Even with the massage and pedicure, it still felt good on my foot. Spending hours and hours on my feet was standard operating procedure on tour. “Fine, I’ll reserve judgment. What is this not-crazy plan?”
“Well...” That gleam was back with a vengeance. “We’ll be seeing Zen Garden in Portland, right?”
“Nope, I was right. It’s crazy,” I said, switching my feet in front of the jet.
Sandy gave me a withering look. “We’re not touring with them. They’re not off limits”
Technically she was right, but... I sighed. “Which one?” I asked, figuring she’d be into Pete, the tattooed one who looked a little dangerous. Or maybe Eddie, the lead singer who had long, rocker hair. He could be her type—she liked lead singers, which was why I was
surprised she’d never mentioned Graeme. Not that I was about to question her on it—I didn’t need to give her any ideas.
“Ted,” she said.
“Really?” I said, surprised. Ted was not only not the lead singer, but a cowboy—a real one who’d come from a ranch in Oklahoma to join the band. He had the charm and accent to go along with his guitar skills but I wouldn’t have pegged him as being her type.
She nodded. “I got a vibe off him when they were on the bus that night.” She looked around absently, avoiding my eyes when she said, “Also, he might have texted me a few times.”
Okay, so that was news. “Seriously?”
She shrugged. “We’ve been talking about Portland. You’ve been sort of in the dark, but you know we’ve been tag-teaming social media with them to build buzz. Portland’s going to be amazing.”
I knew there was stuff going on to leverage both bands’ followers (Zen Garden had way more unique fans, but Wiretap was starting to catch up) and the boys were probably even going to play together at the Portland festival. But after the public mess Andres had made, dragging me into the drama, I’d kept my involvement to the day to day of running the tour, leaving the social media to Sandy.
“I’m not sure hooking up with one of them is a good idea,” I said.
She blew out a loud breath. “Nessa, seriously. Stop being such an old lady. I’m not talking about getting engaged or having a groupie love child or anything. Just some harmless flirting and maybe a little kissing. Or probably a lot of kissing. But nothing serious.”
“Tony’s not going to like it.”
All traces of a smile gone, she glanced over at the pool and then leaned toward me. “Tony’s not going to know. I’m not breaking any rules—Zen Garden isn’t his band. I’m not messing around with any of our guys. And like I said, nothing serious. No one wants anything complicated.”
I sighed and spread my arms wide, resting them on the ledge of the hot tub, the steam wafting up from my hot skin. “No, I guess not. It’s...I don’t know. I’m sorry—I don’t mean to be a downer, Sandy, really I don’t. It’s just... with me filling in for Linda, it’s my job to be responsible.”
Going on Tour Page 15
