Page 16 of Wild Infatuation (Rebel Rockstars #3)

Chapter Fifteen

Shawn

I’VE NEVER BEEN TO New York, but I can’t wait to go home.

Handlers escort us around from the second we leave our homes.

As soon as we land in LaGuardia, a driver greets us in the airport.

She takes us to a hotel, but we hardly get a moment to breathe before we’re going out to a dinner Emmett arranged for us.

The food is great and all, but the real point becomes obvious when Levi’s sister, Olivia, sits beside me.

I nod to her, but otherwise hold my tongue throughout the meal, letting my excited bandmates prop up the conversation.

The next day, someone wakes us up early and tells us we need to get ready.

Apparently, that means hours of wardrobe, including hair and makeup.

I can’t help but wish it was Terrance dabbing products onto my face.

He takes a much lighter hand with it than whoever they arranged for us here.

It almost feels like I’m wearing nothing when he does it, like he’s simply accenting the way my face already looks.

I try to shake off thoughts of him, but it’s difficult when I face down a day of being ushered around like a show pony.

That night we spent together in my apartment was so much more than I thought it would be.

He stayed in my bed all night, only leaving after making pancakes in the morning.

It was so … sweet. So normal. And he didn’t ask me anything about my cryptic warning.

He didn’t ask me anything at all. We slept and ate and watched TV until he had to go to work.

I expected clinginess or pressure or probing, but Terrance wasn’t like that at all.

He was like his makeup work, a subtle enhancement to the ordinary, so natural it felt like he’d always been there.

I worry about what he’ll make of all this as someone stuffs me into a suit. The black pants have studs on them. There’s no jacket, just a silky shirt that’s unbuttoned to show off some of the tattoos on my chest.

Beside me in the limousine, Olivia is beautiful.

She wears a dress of deep, silky purple that matches my shirt, her hair falling in soft ringlets around her.

Like her brother, her hair and eyes are pale.

They could be the classic girl and boy next door with their blond hair and blues eyes, yet somehow Levi’s found his way into a rock band, and Olivia is stuck with me for the day.

Maybe they chose Olivia and I for the contrast. I’m all shadow; she’s all light.

When we exit the limo, I offer her my arm, and she takes it gracefully, wearing an easy smile.

The flashing cameras seem to bother her less than me, even though I’m the one playing concerts in packed stadiums and she’s a third-grade teacher.

Maybe she should have learned to play a guitar instead with how calm she is as we head down a literal red carpet with the rest of the band.

All the guys are dressed up like me. Keannen is the most “rocker,” with his hair spiked and a grungy outfit.

He keeps a hand around his boyfriend Tim as we walk, glaring at anyone who dares to give them too long a look.

Jacob is all but skipping down the red carpet, and Seth, working double-duty as our bodyguard and his boyfriend, sticks close to his side.

The dude looks even more huge than usual in a suit.

Dan and Levi hang back with me, Levi chatting quietly with his sister.

She’s always been kind of on the fringes of the band.

When we’d practice in Levi’s parents’ garage, she’d watch us and offer scathing critiques.

When we started going to shows, she showed up to a few with her friends, lending her support.

So this definitely could be worse, and I understand why Emmett picked her.

She’s an easy and obvious choice, someone longtime fans might expect one of us to date.

Now all I have to do is shut up and hope that’s what the paparazzi believe too.

We have to stop several times for cameras.

Someone sticks a microphone in Jacob’s face, asking him about our upcoming single, while a cameraman works to cram us all into the shot.

I can’t help wondering if Terrance is watching the live broadcast. He’d know we’re here; he’s too dedicated a fan to miss an announcement like this.

I can’t scowl to show him this wasn’t my idea, but Emmett didn’t say I have to make out with Olivia or anything.

I just need to hold my nerve, stay neutral, let my blank expression open the way to the correct assumptions.

It’s hard with my father sneering in the back of my head.

I’m that first boyfriend, he says, the one who cheated on me with a woman.

I’m doing exactly what that bastard did because I’m not really gay.

Despite being inside another man only days ago, it’s all a phase, an act I’m putting on to frustrate him.

That’s why all my boyfriends betray me. They can smell the falseness on me.

They know things will never last, so they hurt me before I can hurt them.

I shake myself when Olivia tugs on my arm. She’s looking up at me, a question in her eyes.

“You okay?” she says softly.

“Fine,” I murmur.

I force myself to continue. The carpet is the worst part, I tell myself.

This is the where all the pictures and cameras will happen.

If I can get through this, then everything will become easier.

Once we get inside, we need to sit through some kind of fashion show.

Then we’re free to leave. There are parties tonight, but I’m praying no one expects or wants us to go.

I doubt I’ll get so lucky, but in this moment, I need to feed myself the lie to keep my knees from buckling.

We keep marching down the red carpet. More cameras flash.

We stop in an official photo area where paparazzi scream at us and so many flashes pop that I’m seeing spots.

Olivia puts her hand on my shoulder, and I wrap my arm around her waist, my other hand in my pocket.

She stands close, her body brushing against mine, but the contact does nothing for me.

Not like when I hold Terrance by the waist, not like when his body presses against mine, not like when he gazes up at me with those mossy green eyes.

The mere memory sparks heat inside me, while the tangible, physical presence of Levi’s gorgeous sister inspires absolutely nothing.

I try to imagine kissing her the way I kissed Terrance the other night, plunging my tongue into her mouth when lips alone aren’t enough, but it makes me shiver rather than burn.

Our turn in the photo pit ends. We move on, but we aren’t free quite yet.

One final gauntlet awaits, an interview with a major pop culture entertainment channel.

I know it’s important for us, especially ahead of this music video for the single, but I can’t help but cringe as a reporter with a microphone and a big toothy smile stops us.

“Hey, guys,” she says, “I’m here live at Fashion Jam with Baptism Emperor.”

Behind the reporter, the crowd screams. A few fans have made it to the front of the throng, and they all but faint when Jacob waves at them.

“How are you guys feeling tonight?”

“It was a long trip from Seattle, but we’re feeling great,” Jacob says, and I know that even though this is a publicity thing, he means it. His dimples are out in force as he soaks up the attention.

“You’re known for a more punky, rocker kind of style on stage,” the reporter says. “It doesn’t exactly scream ‘fashion show.’ Is there anything you’re especially excited for tonight?”

“Most of us haven’t actually been to New York before, so we’re just taking in everything,” Jacob says.

“Amazing, and speaking of fashion, we got a sneak peek of some of your looks for your new music video, and oh my God, guys, amazing .”

The fans clustered behind the reporter shriek in agreement.

“How was that experience?” the reporter asks.

“It was so incredible,” Jacob says. “We were so excited to work on a music video at last, and we think everyone’s really going to love it.”

Jacob goes on talking about “Escape,” the song we’re here to promote.

Some of my bandmates jump in to help him, but I’m too busy reliving the making of that music video, those hours in the hair and makeup chair with Terrance, our frantic hookup in the wardrobe trailer.

I’m not sure I’ll ever be able to untangle that song from him again.

“So you know I have to ask,” the reporter says. “Who did you all bring with you tonight?”

She shoves her microphone at Keannen, who isn’t shy whatsoever about announcing he’s here with another band’s drummer. Jacob is similarly brazen when he says Seth is more than just a bodyguard tonight.

The press had a frenzy with both of those relationships, so I tense when the reporter’s keen gaze turns to me.

“And what about this?” she says, waving between me and Olivia. “Is this new? Are we getting the exclusive scoop here? The fans need to know.”

Said fans scream in agreement.

I freeze up. My arm is around Olivia’s waist where it’s supposed to be, but it means so little to me that I almost forgot I was holding her.

She squeezes my shoulder and smiles at me, and I try to return the gesture, hoping the awkwardness plays into the persona.

The brooding, silent lead guitarist isn’t typically the most eloquent speaker.

“I’m just here as a plus one,” Olivia says smoothly before my hesitation can become too noticeable.

Her words jolt me into action, the lines Emmett fed me leaping to my tongue, but even as I speak, I wonder if I’m saying them more for Emmett … or for Terrance.

“We’ve all known Olivia for a long time,” I say, like I’m supposed to. “Levi’s sister was probably our first fan.”

She laughs and smiles like she’s supposed to. “Well, it was hard not to notice you guys when you were playing music in the garage every day after school. I just wanted to support my brother.”

“How sweet,” the reporter says. “So it isn’t more than that? You guys look incredible together.”

Olivia ducks her head. We need to leave it vague, open-ended, but all I want to do in this moment is look into that camera and promise Terrance this isn’t real. This isn’t even remotely real. What he and I did — that was real. This is a show.

“Thank you, but we’re only here to enjoy the show,” I say.

“Yeah, I’m so honored to be invited by Shawn and the guys,” Olivia says. “It’s so special to share something like this with them.”

The reporter dutifully lets the matter drop, just as she’s meant to.

It’s the perfect amount of insinuation, though we confirmed nothing, and it will likely do exactly what Emmett is hoping for — fuel speculation and get the band’s name trending.

They’ll be wondering if Olivia and I are together, and that will sell a few extra singles when “Escape” comes out.

And, as Emmett said, it will subtly signal that perhaps the entire band isn’t queer, keeping hope alive for a certain segment of fans.

The whole charade makes me sick to my stomach.

I look into the camera, tempted for a split second to shout into it that they’re wrong.

I am gay. There is a man out there I want to trust, a man I want in my bed the way he was in my bed mere days ago.

No one on this entire planet — of any gender — has a shot except him.

I don’t say it. I don’t ruin the moment. My band needs this, and I agreed to it. I keep my mouth shut and my head down, and when the reporter releases us, I let Olivia loop her arm through mine and tug me into the venue.