The small, casual restaurant was packed. Across the room, at the bar, I could see Jase surrounded by women, talking animatedly. At the other end, Andrea stood looking on, seemingly bored.
The vibe was rowdy. There were lots of people talking, and I heard the occasional shriek from a female fan. It made me mildly nauseous. Jase looked a bit disheveled. From where I stood, it was hard to tell, but it looked like one of the women had her hands in his hair. He had the kind of hair that begged you to touch it, and it always looked perfectly mussed. He was wearing suit pants and a button-down shirt, sans tie, but the top three buttons were open. I wondered who had unbuttoned them for him.
I watched for a few moments. Jase was laughing drunkenly as he attempted to stand on one of the metal bar stools. Andrea looked a bit horrified. His fans helped him up and held him as he addressed the crowd.
He threw his arms out to his sides, “Thank you, all. I love you! You’re all amazing and beautiful, every single one of you! I want to take all of you home with me.” They screamed in delight at that. I gagged. Andrea stared straight ahead like she had seen it all before. He lost his balance and yelled, “Whoa!”
The women righted him, and that’s when he spotted me. I was grinning by that point. “You!” He pointed at me accusingly from the other side of the room. “Did you finish it, dammit?”
I shook my head and then he really did fall. It wasn’t pretty. Making my way over to him was no easy task either. I had to push rows of lust-crazed women aside. They were all kneeling around him like he was a wounded animal.
“Oh Jesus, move, people. Give the man some space.”
He was lying flat on the floor, looking up at me. “What you doing here, gorgeous?”
“Don’t even try it.” I held my hand out to help him up and then I shouted, “Back it up! Out of the way.” The women gave us some space as I dusted him off. His eyes were lazy little slits, but he was still smiling.
“Your hair is flying everywhere,” I said.
He bent his head toward me. “Fix it.”
“Ask nicely.”
“Please?”
I tried to straighten it out but decided it looked better messy.
Andrea appeared. “We better get this guy back to the hotel before he passes out on us.”
With Andrea on one side and me on the other, we draped his arms over our shoulders and made our way outside. He kept looking over at me and smiling.
“Just walk, Romeo.”
Neither of us attempted conversation after that.
He was staying at a much nicer boutique hotel than mine. His room was a gorgeously decorated large suite with a separate living area. Once inside, Andrea broke away and headed for the balcony.
“I need to make a call,” she said. “You got this?”
“Yeah.” I walked him into the room where he collapsed onto the bed.
He was about to pass out, but he was fighting it as I removed his shoes. “Why are you here?” he slurred.
“I came to see my mom. She lives in Nashville.”
“Really?” He seemed surprised.
“I just wanted to see who she was. Now I have, and now I need to go back home. I came by because I figured, since we’re in the same city, I should say hello.”
“Hello.” He grinned. I reached for his belt, unbuckled it, and pulled it through the loops in one fell swoop. “Wow, you’re good at that.” His face scrunched up. “I don’t want to know why.”
“You can totally undress yourself, huh?”
“Yeah, probably, but you’re doing such a great job.”
“Well.” I walked to the head of the bed. “I should get going.”
He reached for my hand. “Stay, please,” he said with sweet, drunk puppy-dog eyes.
“What, with you and Andrea?”
“She’s not staying in here with me.”
“I still have a boyfriend.”
“Bummer. Ditch that guy, would ya?” His eyes started to close. I wanted to undress him and curl up beside him.
“You’re fading,” I said.
He opened his eyes wide and shook his head. “I’m still here.”
I leaned over to kiss him on the cheek. He braced the back of my head, holding me down near him. He took a deep breath in. “You smell good.”
“You smell like whiskey. Why’d you get so drunk tonight?” I pulled out of his embrace and stared at him. There was humor in his expression. “What?” I said.
“Remember when you had that crazy hair when we were kids?”
“How could I forget? I was made fun of constantly.”
“You’re so pretty, Em. Your hair’s so straight now.” He looked confused.
“I have to flat-iron the crap out of it, thank you very much.”
“Ohhh,” he said lazily.
“I like that you focused on my poor hair throughout the book, but you decided to give yourself a nice little six-pack.”