“Oak, huh?” Kiki wiggles her eyebrows. “Aren’t you worried about when he goes on tour and there’re all these girls throwing themselves at him?”
I hadn’t given it a lot of thought, but something in my bones tells me that I don’t need to worry. “Oak’s not the type to cheat. He’d tell me if he fell for another girl.”
This is a guy who doesn’t like being touched, and in all the time I’ve been with him, there’s never been another girl on his radar.
“Really? I don’t think I could deal with that.” Carrie taps the cigarette over the side of the deck. “I’d be too stressed out and superjealous all the time.”
“Vaughn’s always been chill,” Kiki says.
“It’s not me.” I laugh. “It’s Oak. He’s not that kind of guy.” Unlike with W, I’ve never found a group of strange girls hanging out at Oak’s house or the studio. And he has access to hundreds of them if he wanted to. Plus, he doesn’t even make offhand comments about how different celebs are hot or how he’d like to tap that—W used to do that all the time.
“What about April Showers?” Carrie protests. “He was with, like, a dozen girls while he was dating April.”
I catch my lower lip between my teeth. How do I explain this to them without giving everything away?
“It’s not always what you see in the press,” Oak says from the doorway.
The two girls turn bright red as he approaches. When he reaches me, he slides his arm around my waist again, either anchoring himself or me. Maybe both.
“April and I were friends. We did some stuff together but it didn’t work out. Sometimes the magazines and websites like to stir up controversy for hits and views. Touring isn’t all that it’s cracked up to be. It’s a lot of work and the down days are often spent traveling from one location to another. You miss your family, your friends, even your own bed.”
“That actually sounds amazing,” I tell him.
We lock eyes. “You should come with me next time.”
“Maybe I will.” I grin, but when he doesn’t grin back, I realize he’s serious. Going on tour with him as he travels all over the world? That would be amazing.
“And on that note, I think I’m going inside,” Carrie announces. “You, too, Kiki.” She pulls Kiki off the railing.
“But I wanna see what happens next,” Kiki wails.
Oak’s lips curve up.
“They’re not a television show,” Carrie scolds as she drags Kiki inside the house.
“No, they’re better.”
I can’t help but laugh. “We should go inside, too.”
Oak’s hand tightens on my hip. “Do we have to?”
My skin is too tight for my frame. Every sense I have is heightened. His fingers feel heavy against my jeans. The cool night air is tickling all my nerves.
“How’d you do it? You and April?” I ask quietly.
He answers without hesitation, knowing exactly what I mean. “We weren’t ever friends, despite what I just told your girls. We were two bratty kids who thought we deserved more than we got even though the world was pretty much on a platter. I thought she should do whatever I wanted and she thought the same, only in reverse. I wasn’t very nice to her.” He makes a face. “Are you going to hold this against me?”
“No. I just wondered how you kept it all separate. Did you put April in the friend compartment and then take her out and slot her somewhere else when you needed to be...affectionate with her?”
He places a thumb at my chin, gently pulling me around so that I have nowhere to look but at his face. “So I need you to look at me while I tell you this. April and I were never a thing. What you saw in public wasn’t anything more than the two of us acting in order to get more mentions in the press, more coverage. I was on tour and Claudia wanted me on the cover of something every day. April and her family live for that shit. There were feelings that got hurt at the end, and I didn’t see it coming because I thought she was a great actress. I’m sorry she got hurt. If there’s anyone who’s in trouble here—” he waves a finger between us “—it’s me. I think you know that.”
“I’m confused right now.” I rub my sweaty palms on my knees.
Oak drags his index finger along my lower lip. “I know, baby. And scared?” I give a small nod. “I’m scared, too. But let’s work this out together. Let’s see where it goes. We don’t need labels or words. We just need to be together.”
I let my anxiety go in a huge rush of breath and reply, “Okay.”
He squeezes my hip and then lifts me down off the deck. “So Matt sings, huh?”
“You’re going to play?”
“Why not?” He slides a grin toward me. “I heard it’s real popular with the chicks.” He slips inside before my punch can land. “Anyone got a guitar?” he asks loudly.
Matt jumps up so fast that he nearly tips the table over. Miraculously, four guitars are produced, including one from Justin, who, in the fifth grade, slammed his recorder onto the concrete in his driveway and then proceeded to ride his bike over it again and again. The recorder was plastic and suffered no damage whereas Justin got his butt whipped by his dad.
“You don’t even play an instrument,” I accuse.
“I know. It’s for Ford. Just in case,” he says sheepishly. “I borrowed it from my uncle.”
“This is a righteous instrument.” Oak swings the body of the guitar up and strums a couple of chords.
“What do you want to play?” Matt asks eagerly. “I know your whole catalog. Even the new stuff.”
The girls and I hide a smirk behind our hands.
“I’m up for anything but my tunes. Know any Smashing Pumpkins?”
Matt nods. “Yeah, I can play ‘The Everlasting Gaze’ or ‘Today.’”
“‘Today’ it is. Where we doing this thing?”
Matt leads the way into the living room. “You can sit here.” He points to the middle of the sofa. Oak takes a seat and Matt then positions himself on the ottoman right in front of Oak.
“I’d be worried that Matt is going to try to steal your man,” Kiki murmurs in my ear.
“He does look infatuated.”
“Infatuated,” Carrie scoffs from my other side. “If Oak batted his eyes at Matt, Matt would be down on his knees so fast, the house would shake.”
“Mmm. Nice visual.”
“Come sit by me, baby,” Oak calls and pats the cushion to his right.
“Baby?” Carrie and Kiki mouth to me.
I ignore them, try to keep from turning beet-red and climb over a dozen people to slide next to Oak. He cants his body slightly so that his back is pressed against my side and the neck of the guitar is slanted away from us. The closeness of our position means I feel his arm move as he slides his fingers up and down the fret.