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CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

LENA

“Where are you taking me?” I watch from the corner of my eye as Decker fights back a smile.

It’s kind of adorable how pleased he seems to be at my cluelessness.

Or maybe he’s excited. And I have to admit, I’m kind of excited too.

It’s been too long since I’ve done anything remotely spontaneous, unless we’re counting my random not-a-date-lunch-date with Decker the other day.

I tend to keep a tight schedule—especially while caught in the throes of recording—but inspiration has been lacking lately, and I need a break.

“You’ll see.” His smile presses further into his stubbly cheeks, and finally, he exposes his perfect teeth.

A feather-light flutter unfolds in my belly, and I have to turn away.

I reach for the door and fiddle with the window button as I wait for the unwanted sensation to subside.

Hoping to be whipped back to my senses, I press it, anticipating a deluge of fresh air, but nothing happens. “Did you lock me in here?”

“I’m carrying precious cargo.”

“Who uses the child lock, anyway?”

“I do when a 330-pound man in my passenger seat won’t stop playing with the buttons.

” He glances my way and must notice my confusion because he smiles at me again before pulling his attention back to the road.

“Maleko. He was the last one to ride there. That’s why the seat was so low.

He’s a fidgeter. Messes with everything. ”

“Is he your best friend?”

“Yeah, one of them. But only after you, babe.”

I roll my eyes. “You’re gonna have to fight Joss for that spot.”

"Joss?”

“My best friend since grade school.” We come to a stop at a red light, and I can’t help but smile as I think back on all of our years together.

Church choir, sixth grade English class, climbing trees in the summer.

“She’s a photographer, travels worldwide for it now.

I’m proud of her, but I miss her a lot. She’ll be in town soon, though.

She’s doing my next album art. For the re-release. ”

“What’s your favorite memory with her?”

His question catches me off guard, and I can’t help but sneak a look at him as I jog my brain. “There’s way too many, but probably junior prom.”

“Was she your date?”

I smile. “No. I didn’t go to any proms. After missing the one my junior year, my mom promised I would make it to my senior prom, but then she scheduled some last-minute event for me and—” I shake my head.

“No high school proms. Joss knew how bummed I was and set up a photo shoot outside the venue where they’d held prom about a month earlier.

Her sister took the pictures. It wasn’t the same as going to the dance, but I appreciated the gesture. At least I got to wear my prom dress.”

“She sounds like a good friend.”

“She is.” I smile at him.

He smiles back. “Old friends are the best. Keep ‘em if you can.”

“You said one of them. Who else is on that list? And don’t say me.” I arch a brow at him. “We’re not there yet.”

“Well, we better get there soon or no one will believe us, but I think asking questions is a good start. I need to know more about you.”

“Need to?” I ask.

“Gotta know a few things about my girl. What if someone asks me something about you?”

He reaches over and pats me on the knee like it’s Princess’s head, but then he doesn’t lift it.

It lingers on my bare skin for a moment, my eyes falling to his grasp before tracking up his arm and meeting his gaze.

We freeze there, and I’m not sure if either of us is breathing.

His hand is as reassuring as his presence was when Callum was being so very Callum earlier.

His body even more so before Callum burst in and ruined that too.

Ugh… Callum. A car honks behind us and he yanks it away, gassing through the green light, leaving a cold spot where his palm once lay.

“Hmm… My best friends besides Maleko... and Princess, obviously. And you.” He smirks, and I shake my head. “I mean, most of the team is pretty close. I spend a lot of time with Cole too.”

“You seem to be pretty liberal with this best friend title.”

He shakes his head. “I’m not. I just have a lot of friends. It doesn’t mean I trust them all the same. Other than Maleko, it’s my brother. Ian. Can’t beat the ol’ built-in-best-buddy, as they say. And probably my mom, too.”

I bite back my smile. “Your mom?”

I expect him to at least blush at admitting he considers his mom a best friend, but he doesn’t make excuses. He doesn’t back down. “Family’s important to me.”

“What about your dad?”

He sucks in a slow breath through his teeth as we pull into a parking lot. “He passed away a few years ago.”

“Oh, Decker. I’m so sorry. I didn’t know.”

“We weren’t very close in the end. I wasn’t close to my mom then either.

We’d had a falling out. Not a great time in my life.

But loss seems to have a way of pushing people back together.

Well, tearing them apart or bringing them back together.

Fortunately for us, it was the second option.

” He puts the car in park and turns to face me.

“It’s weird because as much as I miss him, I’m grateful that losing him somehow fixed my relationship with my mom.

I just wish I could have made it up to him before he was gone, you know? ”

I press my lips together, nodding. I’m not sure what to say.

He’s being so… open. For the second time tonight, he’s surprised me.

He’s pushed aside his cocky, jokey exterior and shown me there’s more going on underneath.

I don’t want to ruin it, so I take a note from his book and reach out, testing our guidelines like he already has so many times today.

Placing my hand over his, I wait for him to pull away, but he doesn’t.

Instead, he stares at my hand before slowly weaving his fingers through mine.

A jolt rockets through me, but I don’t back down.

I can’t keep stepping back every time he steps forward.

We’re supposed to elicit comfort. Love .

And this is a move in that direction. Besides, after the way he was there for me today in the presence of Callum-the-Terrible, the least I can do is be there for him now.

He gives my hand one squeeze before forcing a smile onto his face, but his eyes don’t reflect it. “Ready, Lennie-Pie?”

I try to keep my smile bright enough for the both of us. “I don’t know where you’re taking me, but I guess.”

“The correct answer is ‘ready.’”

“Ready as I’ll ever be.”

He shakes his head, dropping my hand before pulling out his phone and typing something out.

Shoving it into his pocket, he hops out of the car and makes his way around to grab my door.

I pull on a baseball cap and a pair of aviators—real original disguise, I know—and step out.

I don’t know why I hadn’t paid more attention to where he was taking me, but I’m not sure what I’m looking at.

I don’t know where I am. Painted brick and metal doors sprawl out before me, but there are no signs and hardly any other people except for a few that appear to be on smoke breaks, sitting on curbs and leaning against walls here and there. We’re behind a strip of businesses.

Decker begins to walk toward a door, expecting me to follow, but stops when I don’t move. “Come on.”

“Where are we?”

“It’s a surprise.” I cross my arms and cock a hip, unwilling to go without some kind of explanation.

“Trust me. I may not know much about you yet, but I know you’re going to love it.”

I can’t say no to his smile, and the smoke breakers around us are starting to stare. Quickly, I grip his hand in mine and let him lead me to a pink door with 213 painted above it. He knocks once, twice, three times, and finally, it flings open.

“Hey, man!” A guy almost as tall as Decker and nearly twice as broad pushes open the door and holds it for us with an outstretched arm, his mop of messy curls flopping with every movement. “Lena. Nice to finally meet you.”

“Finally?” I nudge Decker, and his cheeks actually redden with a veneer of embarrassment. After his football retirement, he may have a future on the big screen. That is, if breaking Ada Lane’s heart didn’t get him blackballed from Hollywood.

“I had to tell him our secret, so he’d give us special treatment today.”

I scrunch my nose at him in a faux-show of disapproval, channeling all the lovesick puppies from my mom and Antonia’s inspo pics today. Decker taps me on the nose delicately with his index finger, and soon our lovers’ quarrel has ended.

“Uh-oh.” Decker’s friend’s gaze locks on something behind me, and I turn just in time to see someone running toward us with a camera, calling my name.

In a split second, Decker’s body is blocking me from their view as he leads us into a storage room. His big friend slams the door and double-checks that it’s locked.

“Thank you…” I search for his name and realize I never learned it.

Decker fills in the gaps for me. “Cole. Plays on our defensive line.”

“Hi, Cole, nice to finally meet you.”

He clasps his chest, his eyes dancing from me to Decker. “Finally? You told her about me?”

I don’t wait for Decker to answer because suddenly I’m being steeped in the overwhelming scent of sweet, sweet sugar. “Oh my goodness, where are we? Have I died? Is this heaven? What is that smell?”

Decker’s smile grows. “You’ll see.” He turns to Cole. “Are we good?”

“I’m sure my mom has no problem shutting down for Lena Lux, but I didn’t exactly tell her, so if she says anything, this is your idea.”

“Your mom?” I ask.

Decker leans closer. “This is his mom’s place. She owns it. He just stops in from time to time and hijacks it, apparently.”

Cole bats away the comment. “I’m an investor here.”

Decker swats him in the gut. “And taste tester too, by the looks of it.”

“This is the body of a two-time Pro Bowler. When was the last time you got voted into the Pro Bowl?”