The Key to Love

by Callie Bardot

  Ahead at Gate Twelve, a few stragglers still queued up to board the plane.

  Good. I’ve got this. Quickly, Mia pulled her ticket from her coat pocket and handed it to the ticket agent.

  The agent scanned the ticket in the electronic scanner. Her expression darkened as she studied her monitor. “Oh, Miss Song,” she said, pronouncing the name incorrectly.

  “It’s pronounced Soong,” Mia said, in her well-practiced correction.

  “I’m sorry. Miss Song,” she said, getting it right this time. “I’m so sorry, but we’ve oversold this plane in first-class, and I’m afraid you’re going to have to take the next one.”

  “What? All my friends are on that plane.” Mia threw up her hands.

  “I’m sorry, miss, there are no available seats.” The ticket agent’s cheeks reddened as she typed on her keyboard. “I can get you on the next plane. It leaves in an hour.”

  “Can I get on the plane, please?” a male voice grumbled from behind her.

  The ticket agent took his ticket, scanned it, and waved him through.

  “What he can get on, but I can’t?” Mia’s gut tightened to a knot. She gripped the strap of her big bag.

  “I’m afraid so, miss. He’s flying coach. There’s nothing we can do.” The ticket agent reached for the next customer and scanned her ticket.

  “I’ll fly coach. I’ll take a middle seat. Anything!” Mia said.

  The ticket agent shook her head. “I’m sorry. The entire plane is full. We had to bump a couple of first-class passengers. You’re not the only one. But, we do have several first-class spaces on the next flight. We knew you’d be more comfortable with the seat of your liking.”

  “This is so stupid.” Mia’s eyes burned. “Can you get a message to my friends that I’m okay and will be in Cancun shortly?”

  The ticket agent nodded several times, probably eager to have a task she could accomplish. “Absolutely. I’ll personally deliver the message. You’ll be on Flight Six-Fifty-Two out of Gate Two-B. It’s on the other side of the terminal, I’m afraid. Your luggage will be held at Cancun International Airport for you to pick up when you arrive. And, we’ll give you a voucher for a free flight anywhere our airline flies.” She added a practiced smile like Mia should feel ecstatic.

  Mia felt anything but as she whirled and stormed away, racing for her gate. Already this trip was proving to be a disaster.

  By the time she arrived at Gate Two-B tears nipped at her eyes. The plane was already boarding. She handed the ticket agent her ticket expecting to hear another song and dance about how she couldn’t board this plane, too.

  Instead, the smiling guy waved her through with a “happy to have you onboard, Miss Song,” pronouncing her name correctly. “You’ll be sitting in row three, Seat 3B.”

  She hurried onto the plane before anything else happened.

  When she stepped into the plane, her heart sank. Sitting in row three, seat A, was none other than Keys Johnson. If her luck continued, Darion would board and sit directly to her left.

  Keys

  Fireworks burst through Keys’ discontent, as Mia stepped onto the plane heading for Cancun. He lowered his sunglasses and gawked at her. After twenty-four hours with no sleep, he’d accepted the change in planes as a welcome respite, hoping to get some shut-eye, away from Trevor’s neediness and the rest of the band’s clamor.

  Now, he just might want to stay awake. A wolfish grin stretched across his face as Mia settled into the seat next to him while avoiding his gaze.

  “Well, well, well…fate is shining down upon us. Now it’s official. We’re meant to be together,” he said.

  She afforded him a side-eye and said, “Dream on, Mr. Johns…er, Keys.” Her head inclined toward the mobile phone clutched in her hands. A worried expression marred her beautiful features as she anxiously scanned the screen. Then, she craned her neck and inspected the passengers boarding and the ones seated in First Class.

  He cocked his head to study her. What’s she worrying herself over? “Everything okay?”

  “What?” Her gaze pivoted toward him, and her forehead wrinkled.

  “I asked you if everything’s all right.”

  “With me?” she said, blinking those bewitching eyes of hers.

  “No, with the passenger next to you.” He smirked, glancing at the well-dressed elderly woman sitting in the aisle opposite Mia. “She doing okay?”

  Mia’s face flushed. “I’m fine,” she said, taking another scan of her mobile phone.

  “Are you sure?” he said, as an impulse to take away whatever caused her distress fell over him.

  “I’m sure,” she said, a forced-looking smile appearing. A frown quickly replaced the smile, and she looked at—really looked at—Keys. “Your hair looks different.”

  “Yeah. I couldn’t think of anything to do last night, so I had a stylist come over to the apartment and give me a haircut.” Actually, I wanted to look different for you. He’d had the eight-inch length cut down to about two inches. Now, instead of the wild, hair-sprayed, colorful Mohawk he typically sported, the blond roots of his hair with only a touch of green remaining, stood out in spiky disarray.

  “Is the blond your natural hair color, or is it bleached?” Her head cocked to the side as she studied him.

  “It’s all-natural from the green to the scalp. Want to see if the curtains match?” he said, his gaze dropping to his groin.

  “No,” she said, scoffing.

  “What do you think?” He swept his hand toward his head. A curious sensation tickled his gut as he waited for a compliment or some show of appreciation from her. Before this moment, he never gave a woman’s opinion of his looks much thought. So why am I doing it now?

  “Here’s what I think. Who gets his hair done in the middle of the night?” A scowl tightened her features.

  “A rock star with money to burn, that’s who,” he said, removing his sunglasses. He removed his glasses case, fitted the glasses inside, and slid the case into his shirt pocket.

  “I see,” she said with a sniff.

  “It’s a good time to make a change,” he said. “You know…the spirits are with you in the middle of the night. They get bored and like to help people make a change.” He hoped that were true. If this moment was any indication, his plea for a shift had been heard.

  “Did your stylist agree with you?” Mia said, her brow still furrowed.

  “Once she heard my offer, she was delighted,” he said, enjoying having Mia’s attention focused on him.

  “Did she now?” One of Mia’s dark eyebrows rose.

  Squinting slightly, Keys ran his tongue across his teeth. Is she jealous? “Yes, Bexley, my lesbian hairstylist was quite delighted with triple her already above-average rate.”

  A sigh left her lips as if she’d relaxed.

  Hmmm. Is Mia relieved to know Bexley is a lesbian? Bexley’s into guys, but it seemed like the safest way to assure Mia I have no interest in her other than as a friend. He flexed his fingers.

  “I like it,” she said.

  “Mission accomplished, then,” he said, still smiling, relaxing into his seat.

  “I like the beginnings of your Van Dyke, too,” she said.

  He stroked his jaw. “Double win for me. I wondered if you’d like it.”

  The corners of her lips barely quirked, and she shook her head. “Nice try, Keys, but I’m not falling for it.” Once again, the frown returned as she scanned her phone and glanced up at the passengers.

  “Are you looking for someone?” Keys said.

  “Me?” she said.

  “No, the passenger next to you. I’m still worried about her.” His gaze skipped toward the elderly passenger, then, back to Mia. “Of course, I meant you.”

  She powered her phone off and placed it facedown on the console between them. “I need to get away, is all. I’ve been working too much.”

  “Uh-huh,” he said, his eyes narrowing in suspicion.

  The clean-cut air ste
ward stopped at their row and offered them drinks. His eyes grew large as he looked at Keys. “Are you..?”

  “None other,” Keys said, hoping not to draw too much attention. His gaze flicked to the steward’s name tag. Samson. Weird name.

  “Awesome win at the Grammys,” Samson said.

  “Thanks,” said Keys.

  “What can I get you to drink?” Samson said, smiling.

  “Water and orange juice,” he and Mia said at the same time.

  Keys glanced at Mia and, yet another grin crossed his face.

  Her eyebrows lifted.

  Keys couldn’t remember the last time he smiled so much. Then, he lifted the small empty bottle of water next to him and handed it to the guy.

  “And, coffee,” Keys said. “Copious amounts of coffee for both of us.”

  Mia nodded.

  Once the steward left to get their drinks, she said, “What, you’ve got the vodka in your pocket to add to the orange juice?”

  He scoffed. “Contrary to public opinion, I do not drink twenty-four-seven.”

  “Huh,” she said.

  “You’ll see. Staying hydrated is important…especially when you drink like me.” He chuckled at the look of satisfaction that crossed her face. “I’m kidding, sweet thing.”

  “Uh-huh,” she said, but the corners of her mouth lifted just a little.

  They stayed quiet for a bit. Mia powered on her phone and stared at it as if it might vomit up bad news at any second. Her head kept lifting, scanning each passenger.

  When the steward came back with their drinks, Keys downed the water and OJ and sipped his coffee, studying Mia. She looks tense. I wonder what’s going on?

  When the plane took off, she finally relaxed a little.

  After they’d finished their breakfast and the remains and soiled napkins had been carted off, Mia retrieved her tablet from her purse and began typing into the screen. Her vision focused on the screen, and she kept thumbing pages, tapping, and reading.

  Curious, Keys’ gaze skittered toward the small display. He frowned. Music agent? Why’s she looking up how to become a music agent? “You looking to change careers?”

  Her cheeks instantly reddened. “It’s rude to read over someone’s shoulder.”

  “Yeah, well, what can I say? Curiosity got the best of me.” He studied her pretty face and crimson-stained cheeks.

  “It’s nothing,” she stammered. “I’m doing research. I wouldn’t in a million years leave Zander. He’s good to me. He practically saved my life.”

  Keys’ brows furrowed. “Saved you from what? Or who?”

  She turned her tablet upside down and rested it in her lap. “So, tell me, Keys? Are you and Heat a thing?”

  His head jerked back slightly. “What? What kind of a thing?”

  “You know…a couple. Bi. Gay. Whatever. Are all the girls you screw an addition to your relationship with Heat? Because I’m not, in a million years, going to be one of them.” She folded her hands primly and placed them on top of the tablet.

  His stomach bunched into a knot, and his hackles rose. “What the fuck are you talking about? I’m straight. He’s straight. It’s what we do when we’re bored.”

  “You must be bored a lot, then,” she said, one eyebrow arched.

  “You have no idea,” Keys said. He squeezed the back of his neck. Is Trevor gay? Is that why he acts so clingy sometimes? Nah. He’s not. Is he? He shook his head and focused on Mia. “You’d make a good music agent.”

  “I’m not leaving Zander,” she said, but she didn’t negate the music agent thing.

  He started ticking off the qualities in which she excelled. “You’re so well organized. That party was orchestrated down to the toothpicks.” He tapped his forefinger. “You’re friendly, but you seem tough.” He tapped his middle finger. “You put up with assholes like me.” He tapped his ring finger.

  Her hand shot out, and she curled it around his fingers. “Stop. I’m not thinking about becoming a music agent.”

  The feel of her warm hand on his skin made him want to weep. He turned his hand over and tickled her palm with his fingers.

  She jerked her arm back.

  “I think you’re lying,” he said. “You’re already rationalizing all the ways you can’t leave Zander. He’s a businessman. He’ll get over it if you leave.”

  She cast her gaze at her lap. “I seriously owe Zander. I could never…”

  He reached out and touched her jaw, gently guiding her face to look at him. “Dreams exist for a reason. I have a dream, too.”

  For a second, her beautiful honey-caramel eyes locked with his.

  Keys’ heart pounded like Gia’s drumsticks were keeping up a rhythm inside his chest.

  Then, Mia looked away. “Fine. You caught me. That’s what Gia said, too—that dreams exist for a reason. I do want to become a music agent. I’ve wanted to be in the music industry since high school.”

  “It makes sense, given your last name.” Keys smirked.

  “What are you talking about?” A line formed between her eyebrows.

  “Your last name. It sounds like Soong, but it’s spelled like Song.” He winked.

  She stared at him in a curious manner that made all sorts of heat flood south. “How do you know what my last name is spelled like? How do you even know my last name?”

  “Because I’ve taken an interest in you ever since we met a couple of years ago,” he said.

  Her eyes narrowed. “Quit fooling with me. Smooth move, Keys, but I don’t believe you.”

  He shrugged and grinned, waggling his jewel-adorned fingers between them. “This thing between us…it’s been waiting for the right time to rear its pretty head.”

  Her gaze drifted toward the ceiling. “Nice try, dude.”

  “Let’s get back to the music agent idea. I want to…”

  Her warm hand swiftly landed on his thigh, interrupting him. “You have to promise me you won’t say anything to Zander. Nothing. Do you hear me?”

  Nodding, he swallowed and directed his gaze at the sight of her petite hand on his thigh, wishing it would scoot a little higher.

  Once again, she yanked her hand away. “I’m sorry, I…”

  “I have a dream, too. I was about to ask you to be my music agent. I could be your first client,” he said. A sense of lightness lifted his spirits as he revealed the secret he hadn’t told anyone about. “I’ve been thinking of leaving the band.”

  “What?” Her jaw dropped, and she stared at him. “You can’t. You’re a team. You just won more Grammys. You just can’t.”

  “Can’t I? I’m bored out of my wits. Fearless Leader, aka, Dante insists on the kind of music we play, the way we play it, everything. I want to stretch my wings a bit and see what I can do on my own.” He spread his arms as wide as the seats would allow.

  “But, that’s heresy. And, a double slam for me. ‘Oh, hey, Zander, I’m going to quit and manage the keyboardist for Marked Love. He’s planning on leaving your best friend’s band. You won’t be hurt by that, will you?”

  The only thing Keys heard was that she might be considering the possibility. “So, will you do it? We can make the break together. What do you say?”

  “I say you’re crazy and I need a nap, that’s what. I can barely keep my eyes open.”

  “Fine,” he said eagerly. She didn’t say no. He could work with that. “Take a nap. We’ll have loads of time to chat.” His mood suddenly lifted, heading toward the stars. What a coup. I’ve got to play this vacation right. I plan on abundant sex with Mia, landing a music agent, and leaving Marked Love sooner than I’d imagined. He drummed his fingers on the armrests. When he glanced at Mia, her eyes were closed. Thank you, angel. Then, he closed his own eyes and fell instantly asleep.

  A few hours later, he and Mia said little as they exited the plane, gathered their luggage, and found their waiting limousine. The silence continued as their vehicle wove through the welcome swelter of Mexico, making him wonder if the next wee
k would indeed be a total wash.

  When they reached the Hidden Shores Oasis resort, with its white stone walls, an infinity pool overlooking the ocean, and abundance of palm trees, he walked along the white sidewalk next to a very quiet Mia. They headed toward the lobby following their driver, who pushed a cart with their luggage.

  “Nice place, huh?” he said, donning his sunglasses. Surreptitiously, he eyed the purple shorts, and top Mia had changed into on the plane. The shorts barely covered her fine ass.

  “It’s okay. I plan on hiding in my room for the duration,” she said, frowning.

  “Aw, don’t you want to have some fun?” he said, letting his gaze linger on her slender legs. Those legs need to be wrapped around my hips.

  She sliced him with a gaze meant to melt steel.

  It did nothing except stoke his libido to new heights.

  As they entered the open-air lobby, a warm breeze stirred Mia’s long tresses.

  Those silky strands will feel fantastic trailing across my body when she rides me. I can also wrap my hands around them in a thick bundle when I pin her head back and suck on her neck and breasts. His fingers itched to run through her hair with his cock buried balls deep. His lust-filled fantasies popped when the sound of Trevor’s heated voice met his ears.

  “Fix this!” Trevor yelled. “Now!”

  The male clerk looked extremely uncomfortable. “I’m sorry, Mr. West, but there’s nothing I can do.”

  Keys lifted his gaze toward the front counter, where Trevor stood leaning into the front desk clerk, waving what looked like a room card. Keys strode purposefully in their direction, with Mia trailing along behind him. “What’s going on, Trev?”

  Trevor turned to Keys. “What’s going on? What’s going on? They fucked up our rooms, that’s what. They’ve roomed me with one of the roadies, for Christ’s sake.” Trevor’s arms waved as he spoke. “I’m supposed to be with you.”

  Keys, glancing at Mia’s knowing smirk, cringed. He patted Trevor on the shoulder. “Well, just calm down. How bad can that be? Which roadie is it?”

  “That’s your response? ‘Which roadie is it?’” Trevor’s face looked so red a twinge of worry stabbed Keys’ stomach. “I don’t want to room with Noah. I want to room with you!”