In the seven years Eleven was recording and touring, Mason and I grew close. When you spend every single day with someone for that long, it’s impossible not to bond. Then for someone as naïve as me with abandonment issues, that bond can get … confusing.
To this day, I still don’t know if what I felt for him was real or exaggerated in my mind. I’ve never had the urge to kiss another guy. Before or after Mason. But without a doubt, whenever I think about that night, longing pangs my gut. For our friendship, for more? I don’t even know anymore.
Like always when I start dwelling over my old friend, I force myself to ignore it and focus on my work. It’s the only thing I have left.
Alondra Casey, pop sensation from the nineties, is in the judging seat next to me, and she leans over. “I know I’m supposed to be the motherly one, but it’s really hard not telling these kids they’ll be eaten alive in this industry.”
I snort. “Right?”
“Do you think if I fake a diva tantrum, they’ll let us go home?”
She’s barely spoken two words to me all week, but I decide right here and now—I like her.
“Please do,” I beg.
She laughs.
Luckily, they call it before she needs to bring out the big guns. Thank God. Two whole days off.
“Might need to save that one for next week,” I say to her as we exit to our trailers. I need to get out of the clothes the wardrobe department picked out for me. We turn them in every day so they can wash them and rewear. We need to be in the same clothes for all the auditions on tape. That way they can mix the auditions up in edit and it will look like it was filmed in that order.
I climb the steps to my trailer and throw open the door. My shirt’s over my head, and my belt’s unbuckled a second later. Then a throat clears, and I practically jump out of my skin.
“Motherfucker,” I hiss.
“Now, now, Denny. What kind of good role model are you for the kids on this talent show?”
I know a lot of people love Harley Valentine’s voice, but right now I can’t think of anything more grating to my ears. And that’s coming from a long-ass week on a judging panel of what I’m beginning to think is a prank show. At the end of six weeks, some B-grade celebrity is going to jump out and go, “Ha-ha, gotcha!”
“I already said no,” I say and continue undressing.
Brix, Harley’s bulky bodyguard-slash-boyfriend, covers Harley’s eyes.
He swats him away. “It’s nothing I haven’t seen before. Trust me. Seven years on tour with the guy, it’s impossible to be attracted to … that.” Harley waves his hand in my direction.
“Wow, way to butter me up. Where do I sign on your new label?” I quip.
“Denny,” Harley whines.
“What?”
“I’m not here for that. I’m here to offer to take you to dinner.”
My gaze narrows. “And to try to get me to sign on a dotted line?”
“Me? Never.”
“Mmhmm, sure.”
“We’re going to dinner with an old friend, and I want you to come.”
“Which old friend? And who’s we?”
“Do you not trust me anymore?” Harley blinks innocently at me.
“I’m not even going to dignify that with an answer.”
Harley sighs. “Only you and me. Oh, and my wall of muscle.” He points with his thumb to his boyfriend.
“And who’s the friend?” A lump gets stuck in the back of my throat. For some reason, I’m expecting him to say Mason even though logically, it couldn’t be.
“It’s Blake, okay? I wanted Ryder to come too, but he has the kidlet with him tonight.”
I haven’t seen Blake in a long time, and it would be nice to catch up. But … “What’s your play?”
“Play?” Harley’s voice breaks.
“Yeah. There has to be an angle here.”
Harley turns to his boyfriend. “I told you it would be easier to lure him with candy instead of merely asking him.”
“That might work with you,” I say. “Honesty works better with me. Just level with me.”
“Okay, so I had a crazy idea that if we showed a united front, Blake would say yes, and then you will change your mind, and then there’s only one more person to get on board. One for all and all for one and all that.”
Ugh. He is not going to let this go. The thing is, I do want to see Blake. And I’m not naïve. If this reality show thing doesn’t work out, or our ratings tank, Fandom might be the death of my career. Toying with Eleven getting back together is a smart thing to do even if it never eventuates.
Having said that, the thought of having to see Mason again scares the shit out of me, and if Harley gets his way, it will happen eventually.
But what are the chances Blake will say yes? He’s a movie star now. Even if Blake is up for getting back together, that doesn’t mean I have to say yes.
Harley bounces. Literally bounces. “Please, please, please, please, please?”
“Fine. But I’m not saying yes to getting back together. This is dinner only.”
“Dinner only.” Why does the glimmer in Harley’s eye terrify me?
As I buckle my seat belt on the private jet, I glare at Harley. “You neglected to tell me Blake was on set of a movie in the Nevada desert.”
“Did I? Oops.”
I shake my head. “I’m starving now, and it’s at least an hour flight. You better have snacks.”
“Who do you think I am? Of course I have snacks.” He opens a compartment, and a bunch of sugary confections falls out.
“I see your sugar addiction is under control.”
“Eh. Brix reins me in. I swear he and my trainer are in cahoots.”
“Cahoots?” I laugh.
“They’re both against me.”
Brix wraps his large arm around Harley. “Not even. I always tell you to eat whatever you want.”
“Then you make me work it off!”
“Because you ask me to. And you never seem to complain when we work it off.” Brix waggles his dark eyebrows.
Seeing their easy back-and-forth makes a longing feeling stab at me, but that doesn’t make sense. I’m used to being alone. I’ve practically been on my own since I was sixteen. The closest thing I had to someone stable in my life were the guys from Eleven.
The last few years by myself must be catching up to me. “On second thought, where’s the alcohol cabinet?” I ask.
Brix leans over and opens a panel that’s a hidden minifridge. “What would you like?”
“Jack.”
“With?”
“The bottle.”
Brix hands it over.
“Tonight’s gonna get messy,” Harley says.
I lift the bottle. “Cheers to that.” I take a large gulp and then hand it to Harley, who takes out a glass and pours himself some with Diet Coke.
He offers some to Brix, but Brix shakes his head. “I have a feeling I’ll be needing to look after you two tonight.”
Even though it’s Harley’s boyfriend, the mere thought of having someone look after me makes my chest ache. “Yeah, I’m gonna need more alcohol.”