Page 19 of Extended Bridge (Passionate Beats #2)

Chapter Ten

M y alarm goes off, waking me out of a deep sleep I only fell into perhaps three hours ago. I need more sleep. And tea. Lots of tea.

After Bennett kissed me last night—whoa, if I’m being honest, I started it—all hell broke loose.

Luke kicked the paparazzi out of The Closet.

A new member of the Garden’s security team confessed to letting them enter, thinking it was routine protocol.

The whole incident has been labeled a misunderstanding between the Garden and UC.

In the melee, I slipped out and hopped into a cab to the hotel, where I’ve hidden out ever since.

Ignored knocks on my door. I’m aware of Bennett’s upcoming physical therapy session, but it’s not in the hotel.

This morning, we’ll be doing it on his tour bus as we travel down to Philadelphia.

Thankfully it’s only a short ride—can’t deal with the possibility of riding on his bus overnight right now.

I’ve beaten myself up a million times over initiating the kiss last night. Bennett’s story simply speaks to me on such a deep level. He’s been through hell. Is still going through it. I jolt upright realizing he may consider me to be the closest person to him .

All this is compounded by the fact that he sees my warts and doesn’t judge me for them. The way he held me when I confessed my deepest truths over my guilt about my grandmother’s death. And Darren’s. He understands me. This realization makes me fall even harder for this amazing man.

The need to help him overcome more than his groin pull almost drags me down. To make him understand he is loved by the band. Show him through my own parental relationship that other mothers don’t treat their children the way his has.

As if I conjured her, my phone rings. “Hi, Ma.”

“Jenna, so good to actually hear your voice. I know you only are starting with Untamed Coaster, but how are things going?”

I can only hope this means the reporters haven’t published anything about our kiss last night. Our very inappropriate kiss. Bennett could charm underwear off a nun, I swear.

Grinning, I reply, “It’s good. I’ve been working with Bennett and he’s doing well, although I’m worried he’s going to mess up his progress with how he moves around onstage.

Other than that, I’m enjoying meeting the crew and the massive amount of people working behind the scenes to put on an Untamed Coaster concert. I’d forgotten how many are involved.”

“I can only imagine. Have you made any new friends?” I tell her about Nese, and the process of replacing Chico with Kieron as the guitar tech. When she asks, “How’s the press treating you?” I know she’s buried the lede.

“How bad is it?” I Google Bennett’s name and am rewarded with a full page of different views of our kiss last night. The headline “Black Widow Strikes Again!” says it all. I bang my head against the padded headboard as I create a protective bubble around the beauty of that moment.

Ma doesn’t say anything, merely lets me process. A minute later, I say, “I hate the media.”

“Can’t imagine why.”

Her sarcasm isn’t lost on me. “I know you don’t approve of Bennett, but it’s not what it seems. Yes, I gave him a kiss last night after his show, but it was more of a ‘you can do it’ encouragement.” Actually, more like we were swept up in the concert high.

“From the other photos, it looks to me he’s perfectly capable of bringing all of Madison Square Garden to their feet.”

“Well, true.” I play with my hair, which is messy around my head.

“It’s more personal stuff. Things he shared with me that I can’t repeat, not even to you.

It’s his story to tell. Just know he’s not led a perfect life like you might expect.

And he has valid reasons for distancing himself from his mother. ”

“I’ll take your word for it, Jenna. However, the media’s turning this into a circus. I’m not sure how the banks will appreciate their investment being portrayed as a rock star groupie.”

My shoulders slump. “I’m most certainly not a groupie. I’m a licensed physical therapist on tour for a reason, which is to get the lead singer healthy again.”

“Maybe you need to tell the reporters this. And stop kissing your patient.”

Her words hit their mark. “I wasn’t kissing-kissing him, Ma.” My lips were only covering his and my body stuck to his like glue. I pull up one of the photos. Hell, we shouldn’t have done this in public.

Or in private.

“I’ll speak with Luke, UC’s manager. He’ll get the PR team on it, to make this disappear.” He better be able to. Of course, if I were able to keep my hands off Bennett, none of this would’ve happened. “Other than having your younger daughter’s face plastered over the internet, how are you doing?”

“I’m fine.” I can almost see her cheeks puff. She’s always so positive, which makes this criticism all the more difficult to swallow. “Not much to complain about. Your sister won another award for anesthesiology, which is also being covered in today’s newspapers.”

“That’s great. Pass along my congratulations to Kara.”

“Will do. Oh, and Michelle is telling everyone in town that Bennett came on to her, saying you’re getting her sloppy seconds. Again.” Over the phone, I hear something rip. She probably opened sweetener for her morning tea.

I roll my eyes. “Joy.” I shove the blankets down my thighs. “Untrue on every level.” Placing my feet on the floor, I stand. “Well, I should get ready to start the day. We’re driving down to Philly and UC’s going to visit with Darren’s family.”

“Oh,” she rasps. “Are you joining them?”

I need to shut down the hopeful tone in her voice.

Given how much she loved Darren, she’s always wanted us to be something we’ll never be—friends.

“Bennett and Luke both invited me, but no. You know how things were between us—I think it’s for the best that I stay behind.

I’ll give therapy to Bennett on the drive down and he can go with the band.

I’ll either explore Philadelphia or figure out strategies for his therapy while they’re away.

I’m planning for him to drop down to one daily therapy session soon. ”

She sighs. I wait for her to push me to visit Darren’s family, but she finally says, “Sounds good. Have a safe trip and don’t forget to text me.”

After we sign off, I stand in front of the bathroom mirror. I’m paler than normal. Great. I take a lengthy bath to relax—newsflash: it doesn’t work—and tie a towel around my body. When I glance at my phone, a new text has arrived.

COURT

You didn’t even leave NYC before making headlines!

None of which are true

Didn’t think they were but, OMG, that kiss!

Not what it seemed .

My gut prompts me to admit my last response to her is a lie.

I know it. Bennett knows it. Court probably knows it.

How to convince the public it was only a friendly kiss?

I shrug into my comfy work attire and head downstairs to the bustling restaurant, where I’m directed to UC’s table in its own private room.

Oh, great . Pierce is the only other person in here. He glances up when I enter. “Hi,” I say. “Do you prefer I eat breakfast in a different area of the restaurant?” Or in a different state .

He glances into the main restaurant. “You can stay.”

From the tone of his voice, it feels as if he’s making a huge concession.

While I want to sit as far away from him as possible, I go up to the buffet and fill my plate about half full, then select an empty chair next to him.

Smoothing the napkin across my lap, I say, “Thanks. I was dreading going out into the general population.”

His cheeks inflate at my oblique reference to prison. “Perhaps staying with me might change your mind.”

My trembling fingers pause in picking up my knife. With determination, I cut some butter and put it on my mini croissant. “I think I’ll chance it,” I reply with a bravado I don’t feel.

Pierce’s talented finger skims the rim of his coffee mug. “I see you’ve moved on to Bennett.”

Of course he waited until after I’d taken a bite of my croissant to dump this on me. My gaze goes to his face. Instead of skewering me with vitriol, he’s looking into his murky brew. I swallow while composing my response.

“Pierce, we both know I’m on tour with UC to give Bennett the physical therapy he needs to heal his injury.”

“He seemed pretty damn good out on stage the past couple of nights.” His fingers leave the coffee mug and he picks up a pastry.

“That’s because he’s using some coping skills I’ve taught him as well as avoiding making certain movements. You haven’t seen him run across the stage, have you?”

His brows furrow. “No.”

“Spin around? ”

“No.” They draw together deeper.

“When he’s not performing, do you see him limp?”

He drops the half-eaten pastry onto the plate. “Sometimes.”

I nod. “That’s why I’m here.” I still should address what the media captured last night. “He’s shared some personal things with me, and last night’s”—how should I put this?—“brief kiss was a way for me to encourage his growth. The photographers blew it out of proportion. Like they do.”

He repeats, “Like they do.”

We sit in silence, neither one of us daring to move.

Pierce is the first to break. “Good. Because I wouldn’t think you could move on from Darren so fast. And with his bandmate, no less.”

The bandmate comment I get, but fast? It’s been two years. Pursing my lips to refrain from poking the bear any further, I take another bite of my croissant. Which tastes like sandpaper. Seeing as he needs some sort of validation, I nod in his direction.

Our awkward encounter is broken when Nese and some of the other crew bound into the room. Noise levels rise, silverware clanks against plates, liquids are poured. Nese sits next to me and I exhale. Forcing a smile, I ask, “How was last night?”

“Oh, it was amazing.” She digs into scrambled eggs. “You should’ve been there. We were out dancing until three.”