Accidental Rock Star (18 page)

Aria waited until they
dropped Ethan and Dylan off before she asked, “Why’d you kiss me on
stage? In front of everyone? What did it mean?”

“That we’re together.
That I’m dating you. You aren’t just dating Tyler. You’re dating
Sax Grayson. You’re mine. Dickwads like Hunter can forget about
you. Tonight nailed that down.”

The words were
something she needed to hear, at least the part about how he saw
them once he was Sax again. Aria stretched up to kiss him.

The limo pulled up to
her house.

***

“Honey, come on down to
breakfast.”

Aria yawned and dragged
on her robe. Mondays. She shuffled into the kitchen, shoving her
hair back. Dallas had played Houston. She was going to need a big
cup of coffee to get through that replay.

Her parents were
seated.

Dad held up his phone.
“We got this video. Of you. At the pavilion. Playing guitar.”

“Bass. I played bass.”
Excitement rushed through her. “Let me see.”

Dad held his phone out
of reach. His expression killed her excitement. “Explain,
please.”

Aria sank into her
chair, Mom put a heaping plate of pancakes in front of her. Like
she could eat right now. “Tyler is—”

“We’ve figured out who
Tyler is,” Mom said. “The whole world knows who Tyler is. That’s a
different conversation. We want to know about you. You and this
band. When Worlds Appear.”

The band. They were
brilliant. They were amazing. Behind Tyler, they were the best part
of her week. “When Worlds Appear is just a hobby.” She shrugged.
“You know. A garage band. For fun.”

Mom’s blue eyes eased,
but Dad’s gaze stayed hard. “And this gig?”

“Tyler set that up. A
one-time thing.”

Mom pushed the syrup
toward her. “Well, if it was just the once.”

“It was.”

Aria eyed the phone. It
wasn’t like Dad scoured YouTube routinely. “Where’d you get the
video?”

“Hunter sent me a
link.”

Annoyance shot her up
straighter in her chair. She grabbed the syrup and squeezed a big
glob on her pancakes, then thunked Aunt Jemima back down to the
table. “Hunter needs to stay out of my business.”

“Hunter was being a
concerned friend.”

“Uh huh.” She licked
the spilled syrup off her finger, but didn’t get her hands on the
video until after breakfast. They were amazing. She watched it four
times before she noticed the link in the description. The hyperlink
connected her to a major review site.

“Aria, you’re going to
be late.” Mom’s voice came from the other room.

“Coming.” Aria scanned
the article. The reviewer praised Rain Spin, raved about Sax
Grayson’s performance and his new look. The smallest paragraph with
the quietest praise in the whole piece, and it knocked her into
sitting down on her bed. ‘Sax debuted a local band, When Worlds
Appear. The lead and drummer had a few key innovative moments; but
it was the bass player who stood out: spotless playing and her
vocals went down like the local margaritas, smooth and sweet,
leaving the listener with a heady warmth. We’ll see more from When
Worlds Appear.’

“Aria.”

“Coming.” The
excitement resonated in her voice. She dialed Tyler, but got a busy
tone. Ack. She’d have to wait until she got to school to see if he
saw the review.

***

Baylee glanced at him
as she drove toward the school. “Tyler, we had to shut the house
phones off. Even your burner’s burned. You should stay home
today.”

Tyler shoved his hand
through his hair. He was such a fucking idiot. Too much time away,
and he’d let small town fool him into thinking he was in a bubble.
All he’d succeeded in doing was isolating himself from Aria. “I get
that some people have found out.”

“The world has found
out. What did you think would happen when you revealed your new
look at a Rain Spin concert?”

“I don’t know. I fucked
up. I thought maybe I’d have some time.” His voice dwindled. News
vans lined the road leading up to the school. He bit off a curse
and shoved a baseball cap on his head, slinking down in his seat.
“I need to talk to Aria.”

“Wow.” Baylee gaped and
pointed at the satellite dishes on top of the nearest van.

“Don’t draw their
attention.”

“Yeah.” She turned on
her blinker and slowed at the school drive. “’Cause it’s me they’re
looking for.”

A horde of fans filled
the parking lot. Crap. Tyler bit off another curse. “Keep
going.”

Baylee drove past the
entrance and took the next turn to go home. She wasn’t giving him a
ton of shit so he knew he screwed up.

Two police cars passed
with their lights on. Crowd control. Tyler pointed at the local
mart. “I need a new burner.”

“Like you can go in
there.”

“I’ll wait in the
car.”

“Just call Aria from
your computer. Or email.”

“Computers get hacked.
I don’t want someone blasting our conversation all over the
Internet.”

Baylee drove back to
the house, laying off for once until they got close. The street
leading up to the house was littered with news vans. “No way.”
Baylee’s eyes grew big. “They’re at the house now, too. We’ve only
been gone twenty minutes.”

Tyler cursed again. It
had been a rare luxury to go around without bodyguards, but he
could use a team about now. “Let’s go to the factory and get your
mom before they swarm there too. This’ll take some time to blow
over.”

“Mom’s barely been
there an hour. She can’t just leave work for no reason.”

“I’m the reason. She’s
going to take time off work until I get out of town.” Tyler looked
out the window at the passing acres of pastureland, cows, and
haystacks. “Once I’m spotted back in L.A., the press will lay off
here.”

Luckily no crews were
at the factory. Not yet. Tyler explained to the office manager that
he’d pay for a temp to cover Aunt Joellen for the rest of the week.
He spoke over Aunt Joellen’s protests. “This is my fault.” He led
her back to the truck where Baylee waited, and she took over
driving.

“I’ll set you two up at
a hotel in Dallas, and I’ll catch a flight out of there.”

“What about your
stuff?” Aunt Joellen asked. “Can’t we stop by the house first? You
can wait in the car.”

“You haven’t seen how
the press gets. I’ll send someone to pick up my stuff.”

“It’s pretty bad, Mom.
They’re blocking our driveway.”

Aunt Joellen tightened
her hands on the steering wheel and nodded. She glanced over at
him. “You poor dear. Is it like this in L.A.?”

Her kind tone got to
him. No one outside the industry had ever sympathized with him over
the press before.
Price of fame. You picked the life…
He
nodded without answering.

They stopped at the
store once they got to a larger town, and Baylee ran in to get
supplies. She brought back strawberry soda, peppered beef jerky,
and burner phones. Tyler tried Aria’s number first. An automated
voice told him her mailbox was full. He called the label and let
them know he’d need a private jet, a five-star hotel with a spa for
Baylee and her mom, and security.

The guy on the other
end said he’d text the details. Tyler had him on speaker and Baylee
stared at the phone while gnawing on the beef strip. “He sounds
squirrelly. What’s he not telling you?”

The voice on the
speaker got quiet.

Baylee shrugged and
spoke louder. “What aren’t you telling him?”

“Gina made bail,” the
label guy said.

“What the fuck?”

Baylee jabbed the jerky
stick at the phone.
“That’s real smart.”

Frustrated disbelief
raged within him. “You just put her freaking in there.”

“They let her out until
her court date.” The guy sounded appeasing. “Bail happens. Come
back to L.A. Wait it out here.”

Tyler used up the rest
of his curse words until Aunt Joellen snapped at him. “Tyler.
Language.”

Tyler shut his eyes and
breathed out. “I need security teams down here. Aria. Baylee.
Joellen. Ethan. And Dylan. Until Gina’s put away.”

“No problem.”

“Keep me posted.” Tyler
signed off with that. His mind spun with the crap going on. This
wasn’t how he wanted to leave town. He stared broodingly out the
window and refused Baylee’s offers of beef jerky. The pastures gave
way to small towns then more pastures and then Dallas popped up out
of nowhere. They used the GPS to take them to the private airfield
near Love Field. As spread-out as Texas was, they were getting
there all too fast. “Swear you’ll stay at the hotel ’til security
gets here.”

Jet Streams lined up
like toy planes behind the metal hanger. Aunt Joellen slowed and
clicked on the blinker. “We’ll see.”

“I’m not going if I
have to worry about your safety.”

“Okay. We’ll wait until
your people get here. You don’t need to worry about us. You just
take care of yourself, okay.” Aunt Joellen shut off the engine.

Tyler got out and stood
in the open doorway. “I’ve set up an account. Order anything you
want.”

“The room’s enough. We
can take care of the other costs.”

“The security guard’s
bringing a check for you. I want you to take it. Your letting me
stay meant a lot.”

They got out and came
around.

Aunt Joellen hugged him
first. “You save your money.”

Baylee pressed an
opened pack of beef jerky on him and he took it and grabbed her for
a hug. She hugged him back and then climbed into the cab.

Tyler rubbed his
eyebrow. “I want you to take the money. For college.”

They both shook their
heads at him and Aunt Joellen went back to the driver’s side. Tyler
hung on the open door.

“No, baby,” Aunt
Joellen said. “We let you stay to help out Marissa. And then, once
we got to know you, to help out you. Don’t spit on that by offering
us money.”

Tyler didn’t know how
to explain how little the money would mean to him and how much he
could change their lives. They had no idea how much he had.

“Baylee’s going out to
visit Marissa next summer. You keep an eye out for her while she’s
out there. That’ll be enough.”

Baylee shook her head
again. “Mom. I don’t need watching.”

Other than his friends
and parents, few people ever asked something of him that didn’t
involve money. “You got it.” He tightened his grip on the door
frame and then shut it, his palm flat on the outside. “Take care.
Okay?” They waved at him and he spun around and headed into the
small private terminal to catch his chartered jet to L.A.

He spent half the
flight beating himself up for how he’d handled that, and the other
half trying to think of how he’d make it up to Aria. The whole
situation seemed more impossible with every mile and he felt as
tense when he landed as he had been last summer. Sunshine,
bodyguards, and his assistant swarmed him when he got off the jet.
And he needed them, because the press was out in force.

Paparazzi, held back by
a chain-link fence, yelled for his attention, “Sax! Sax!”

“Sax. Over here.”
Cameras flashed.

“Look this way, Sax.
Where have you been? Rehab?”

“Why the new look?”

“Love the new
look.”

“Are you and Gina
married?”

“Who’s this Aria?”

They already had her
name. Tyler almost stumbled, but kept walking. More shouts came
about Texas and then more about his band.

The label assistant,
black-suited and breathless, scanned the paparazzi with enthusiasm.
“We couldn’t have
bought
this much press.”

Tyler checked that his
sunglasses were secure and kept walking. He was used to shitty
remarks like that.

“How was Texas, Sax?”
Flash. “Over here, Sax.” Flash.

He picked up his pace.
The assistant pointed to the limo. “Label security says you should
downplay your romance with the Texas girl. Keep her off Gina’s
radar.”

The record label didn’t
give a shit about Aria. They thought his ratings were higher when
he was single. But because their agendas meshed, he nodded.

Jonah, a pap he
recognized from one of the big entertainment magazines, waved and
called out, “Tell us about your new girlfriend, Sax?”

Tyler faltered. He knew
what he had to do. He’d just hoped he could talk to Aria about it
first. He shook off the guilt and pasted on a fake grin. “Hey,
Jonah. Wish I could keep a girl that long. I run ’em off as soon as
I catch them.” He felt like a douche as he lied.

But keeping Aria safe
mattered more. He leaned toward the mic, raised his sunglasses and
winked. “You know any girl out there who’d take me on? Send her my
way.” His shades dropped back over his eyes and he headed on.

“Great move.” The
assistant kept up a stream of chatter all the way out to the
limo.

The chauffeur had the
back door open and his arm out in a blocking position.

“Studio,” the assistant
told the chauffeur as she bent and got into the back.

Tyler held up his hand.
“No. My place.”

“We have everything you
need set up at the studio.” She looked him over. “Including a
change of clothes.” She crawled over to the minibar. “What can I
get you?”

“Nothing. Thanks.”

The assistant went on
about the studio like he hadn’t spoken. He tuned her out. He needed
to talk to Aria before she saw the press. Man. He shoved his hair
back and thought about how to handle it. Maybe he should have
waited. No. He’d put her at risk. He had to fix it. He used the
speaker to talk to the driver. “My place.”

“Yes Sir, Mr.
Grayson.”

The limo turned into
his private entrance and pulled to a stop. Tyler didn’t wait for
the driver. He shoved the door open and headed for the elevator,
using his biometric prints to bring it down. The assistant followed
him, showing no signs of letting up. He hadn’t had five minutes in
L.A. to be alone and just breathe.