Page 24 of Wild Infatuation (Rebel Rockstars #3)

Chapter Twenty-Three

Shawn

EMMETT SENDS ME TO dinner with Olivia at the end of the week.

When the text arrives, my whole body goes cold.

Seeing Emmett’s name rather than Terrance’s fills me with a powerful mixture of dread and relief all at once.

Part of me wishes it was Terrance reaching out again, but he hasn’t since the last time I saw him.

I know it’s my own fault; I could just as easily reach out to him.

I’ve yet to work up the courage, however.

And now I have to go to dinner with Olivia.

I have no idea how she feels about any of this. The order came down, and I agreed. It’s for the band, and we’re so, so close to the end. It’ll all be okay on the other side of this.

I throw on a decent pair of black slacks and a dark button-down with a subtle pattern, rolling the sleeves up to my elbows and leaving the top couple buttons undone to show off some of the tattoos splashed all over my body.

I tie my hair back, exposing the shaved sides, and give myself a quick check in the mirror.

The piercings in my lip and eyebrow and ears mask the unremarkable face beneath, but no one ever sees through them.

They just see an edgy, brooding lead guitarist in a famous band.

Well, everyone except Terrance.

Obsessive fan or not, when we’re alone, we’re both just … two people who happened to find each other. His gaze strips me of all my piercings and tattoos, the heavy cloak of fame that sits always on my shoulders. I’m myself again around him.

If only I could tell him everything. Soon, I promise myself. First, dinner with Olivia. First, the music video. Then it won’t be so dangerous to trust him.

A car waits for me outside my apartment building.

The driver doesn’t ask where we’re going, simply starts off.

He picks up Olivia along the way, and she slides into the car wearing a slinky pale pink dress and a beautiful smile.

She doesn’t touch me, just says hi and starts making small talk.

“Intimate but not romantic” is how Emmett described the goal of this.

“Don’t go so far you confirm anything, but don’t deny it either.

” I have no doubt Olivia will play her role.

I simply have to keep up my end of the bargain.

We arrive at a restaurant in the heart of downtown Seattle, a high-end place with a dark front and gold letting on the door.

When we step inside, a server is already awaiting us, and she shows us to a table tucked into the front corner.

The dim lighting sets the stage for lowered voices and huddled conversation.

The clink of wine glasses interrupts the low murmur.

Every server (and most of the other guests, for that matter) wears black from head to toe, and none of them bother to pay Olivia and I much notice as we sit across from each other at a table draped in a wine red tablecloth.

“Emmett certainly knows how to pick them,” Olivia says. “I’ve never been anywhere this nice in my entire life.”

“Me neither,” I confess. I can go to places like this any time I want now, but I haven’t bothered. The band’s been so busy that we haven’t really indulged in our fame and fortune the way we could. Besides, who would I go with?

Terrance, my brain answers immediately, but I shove the thought aside. That would be a real date with a real guy, and that’s not in the cards at the moment.

The menus don’t even arrive before I notice the car parked across the street. The windows are tinted, but I have no doubt a paparazzo is sitting in there snapping photos. Emmett may have even tipped him off. The point is for people to see this, after all.

I try to ignore it, but even when I have a menu in my hands, I can barely make out the words, like it’s written in a different language.

I want to jump up and scream at how fake this all is, but it would be the height of selfishness to do that days before this little charade has a chance to pay off hugely for my band.

Why can’t I just shut up and eat one meal with a friend?

“Man, I’m glad Emmett’s picking up the bill for this,” Olivia says.

I finally actually look at the menu in front of me. The prices are written in curling italics with no dollar signs attached, and the numbers are startling. I could cover the bill myself, but I remember what it was like when I couldn’t, so I gape at a steak that costs three digits.

“Get whatever you want,” I say.

Olivia peeks over her menu. “You sure they won’t get mad? I know we’re doing this for the band and all, but I don’t want to push my luck.”

“Emmett sent us here. He chose the place.”

She smiles. “Well, that’s true. I’m sure he knew the prices.”

As though to prove my point, when the server returns I order us a nice bottle of wine. The server swills it around a decanter before pouring us each a glass. Olivia raises hers, and I follow suit.

“Let’s toast to…” She hesitates. “To Baptism Emperor,” she settles on.

A safe choice. I clink my glass against hers and take a deeper swig than is probably proper in a place like this. I need the buzz of the booze to keep me from imagining myself doing this with Terrance instead…

“Hey, are you okay?”

Olivia lowers her voice, leaning across the table. I realize I’m staring down into my wine with a scowl.

“Are you and Levi ever going to stop asking me that?” I say.

“It’s normal for your friends to be worried about you.”

She sets aside her menu and reaches for my hand. I let her take it, forgetting my menu as well. That guy in the car across the street is probably eating this up.

“You seem really uncomfortable with this,” Olivia says, even more softly. “If you don’t want to do this, we don’t have to. I can say I’m not feeling well. No one could prove me wrong. Ask Levi how many times I skipped school that way when we were kids. Besides, we’ve probably done enough already.”

God, I wish I wanted to kiss her. This woman is an angel.

I hope she has a man who actually deserves her.

When she peers into my eyes, her concern mirrors Levi’s, and again a confession buzzes on the tip of my tongue.

I want to tell her everything, but the entire point of being here is to maintain the illusion a little longer.

If someone overheard, I’d ruin all our hard work.

“It’s okay,” I say. I nod at the approaching server. “We should probably order.”

She gives my hand a squeeze before letting go. “As long as you’re sure.”

I’m not, but I nod, and we order expensive steaks and more wine.

My second glass takes the edge off my unease, until I find myself genuinely chatting with Olivia over our dinners.

We mostly talk about Levi and the band. It’s pretty much the only things we have in common, but Olivia goes along with it regardless.

Maybe this isn’t so bad. It’s just a dinner.

The mere act of us sitting here together is enough to accomplish our goal, and it’s kind of nice talking with her.

She makes fun of Levi’s appearances in the music video in a way no one else would dare now that he’s famous, and I find myself laughing at the sibling rivalry on display.

Relaxed, I think again of confessing the whole thing to her.

She must suspect I’m not really invested in the two of us, and she’s so easy to talk to, so understanding.

Maybe this would be easier if I was honest with her.

Maybe it would be easier if I was honest with Terrance as well.

I could risk letting him in a little more, letting Olivia and the whole band in.

We could maintain the pretense, but the people who mattered would know the truth, and that would take a huge weight off my shoulders.

If anyone wouldn’t betray me, it would be them, right?

I use my credit card to pay the bill when it arrives.

Emmett says he’ll reimburse it if I keep the receipt, though I’m not actually all that worried about it.

I’m surprised to find I’m a little sad to leave when Olivia and I get up and head for the door.

This evening was supposed to be torture, but instead I found a weird sort of companionship with my partner in deception.

We stand outside on the sidewalk, waiting for the car to come around. It isn’t cold, but Olivia stands close. That other car is parked across the street, so she’s making the right call. I should probably follow her lead.

Awkwardly, I raise my arm and set it around her shoulders.

It’s not a romantic gesture, but it’s enough to make the press and fans speculate.

It feels weird holding her. She’s too slim, too light.

Terrance’s weight is so much more solid against me, even though he’s pretty slender himself.

Her shoulders are too narrow, her hip against mine too soft.

It’s like having a shirt on backwards. The wrongness of it scratches persistently at my brain.

If Olivia feels the same, she doesn’t show it. She leans in, resting her head against my shoulder. That might be a bit more than strictly necessary, but I guess it’ll play well, so I let it go. But then her hand slides around my middle, and when I look down, she’s peering up at me.

The look in her eyes sends me reeling back a step.

She blinks, both of us off-balance from my sudden jerk.

“I’m sorry,” I say. “I…”

“No, I didn’t mean… I was just…”

“I know, I know. You didn’t do anything. It was me. I…”

Neither of us are managing full sentences, both of us stumbling through the awkwardness of that moment.

I catch that parked car out of the corner of my eye, and my stomach twists around the exquisite meal Emmett bought me.

If the paparazzo caught me jerking away from her, it could undo everything we came here to accomplish.

That look in her eyes terrified me, though.

It was more than merely friendly, as though she might have believed for a moment that this is real.

She looked about to kiss me, really kiss me, and I couldn’t help but react.

She reaches for me, but withdraws her hand at the last second.

“Shawn, I’m sorry,” she says. “I didn’t mean to overstep.”

Shit, I’m screwing this all up. We’re so close to the end and I reeled away from a simple bit of eye contact and that damn photographer probably captured the whole thing.

Before I can stop myself, I step forward and wrap her in my arms. She startles, not returning the gesture as I squeeze her. It still feels weird, but I have to fix this somehow, and this is the best I can come up with.

“It’s not your fault,” I say. “Let’s just get through this.”

She pulls away, looking up at me. The concern is back, the same blue-eyed look as her brother. She eases herself away from me, leaving a step between us. I brace as she prepares to say something, but then the car finally pulls up to the curb, and she hurries to the door.

When she holds it open for me, I don’t complain. I slide inside, hunching down in my seat, wondering if I ruined everything over one simple look.

We ride home in silence, and I all but run into my apartment, trying not to think about texting Terrance to beg him for escape.

Olivia played her part perfectly, but I might have ruined everything.