Fireworks burst through Keys’ discontent, as Mia stepped onto the plane heading for Cancun. He lowered his sunglasses and gawked at her. After twenty-four hours with no sleep, he’d accepted the change in planes as a welcome respite, hoping to get some shut-eye, away from Trevor’s neediness and the rest of the band’s clamor.
Now, he just might want to stay awake. A wolfish grin stretched across his face as Mia settled into the seat next to him while avoiding his gaze.
“Well, well, well…fate is shining down upon us. Now it’s official. We’re meant to be together,” he said.
She afforded him a side-eye and said, “Dream on, Mr. Johns…er, Keys.” Her head inclined toward the mobile phone clutched in her hands. A worried expression marred her beautiful features as she anxiously scanned the screen. Then, she craned her neck and inspected the passengers boarding and the ones seated in First Class.
He cocked his head to study her. What’s she worrying herself over? “Everything okay?”
“What?” Her gaze pivoted toward him, and her forehead wrinkled.
“I asked you if everything’s all right.”
“With me?” she said, blinking those bewitching eyes of hers.
“No, with the passenger next to you.” He smirked, glancing at the well-dressed elderly woman sitting in the aisle opposite Mia. “She doing okay?”
Mia’s face flushed. “I’m fine,” she said, taking another scan of her mobile phone.
“Are you sure?” he said, as an impulse to take away whatever caused her distress fell over him.
“I’m sure,” she said, a forced-looking smile appearing. A frown quickly replaced the smile, and she looked at—really looked at—Keys. “Your hair looks different.”
“Yeah. I couldn’t think of anything to do last night, so I had a stylist come over to the apartment and give me a haircut.” Actually, I wanted to look different for you. He’d had the eight-inch length cut down to about two inches. Now, instead of the wild, hair-sprayed, colorful Mohawk he typically sported, the blond roots of his hair with only a touch of green remaining, stood out in spiky disarray.
“Is the blond your natural hair color, or is it bleached?” Her head cocked to the side as she studied him.
“It’s all-natural from the green to the scalp. Want to see if the curtains match?” he said, his gaze dropping to his groin.
“No,” she said, scoffing.
“What do you think?” He swept his hand toward his head. A curious sensation tickled his gut as he waited for a compliment or some show of appreciation from her. Before this moment, he never gave a woman’s opinion of his looks much thought. So why am I doing it now?
“Here’s what I think. Who gets his hair done in the middle of the night?” A scowl tightened her features.
“A rock star with money to burn, that’s who,” he said, removing his sunglasses. He removed his glasses case, fitted the glasses inside, and slid the case into his shirt pocket.
“I see,” she said with a sniff.
“It’s a good time to make a change,” he said. “You know…the spirits are with you in the middle of the night. They get bored and like to help people make a change.” He hoped that were true. If this moment was any indication, his plea for a shift had been heard.
“Did your stylist agree with you?” Mia said, her brow still furrowed.
“Once she heard my offer, she was delighted,” he said, enjoying having Mia’s attention focused on him.
“Did she now?” One of Mia’s dark eyebrows rose.
Squinting slightly, Keys ran his tongue across his teeth. Is she jealous? “Yes, Bexley, my lesbian hairstylist was quite delighted with triple her already above-average rate.”
A sigh left her lips as if she’d relaxed.
Hmmm. Is Mia relieved to know Bexley is a lesbian? Bexley’s into guys, but it seemed like the safest way to assure Mia I have no interest in her other than as a friend. He flexed his fingers.
“I like it,” she said.
“Mission accomplished, then,” he said, still smiling, relaxing into his seat.
“I like the beginnings of your Van Dyke, too,” she said.
He stroked his jaw. “Double win for me. I wondered if you’d like it.”
The corners of her lips barely quirked, and she shook her head. “Nice try, Keys, but I’m not falling for it.” Once again, the frown returned as she scanned her phone and glanced up at the passengers.
“Are you looking for someone?” Keys said.
“Me?” she said.
“No, the passenger next to you. I’m still worried about her.” His gaze skipped toward the elderly passenger, then, back to Mia. “Of course, I meant you.”
She powered her phone off and placed it facedown on the console between them. “I need to get away, is all. I’ve been working too much.”
“Uh-huh,” he said, his eyes narrowing in suspicion.
The clean-cut air steward stopped at their row and offered them drinks. His eyes grew large as he looked at Keys. “Are you..?”
“None other,” Keys said, hoping not to draw too much attention. His gaze flicked to the steward’s name tag. Samson. Weird name.
“Awesome win at the Grammys,” Samson said.
“Thanks,” said Keys.
“What can I get you to drink?” Samson said, smiling.
“Water and orange juice,” he and Mia said at the same time.
Keys glanced at Mia and, yet another grin crossed his face.
Her eyebrows lifted.
Keys couldn’t remember the last time he smiled so much. Then, he lifted the small empty bottle of water next to him and handed it to the guy.
“And, coffee,” Keys said. “Copious amounts of coffee for both of us.”
Mia nodded.
Once the steward left to get their drinks, she said, “What, you’ve got the vodka in your pocket to add to the orange juice?”
He scoffed. “Contrary to public opinion, I do not drink twenty-four-seven.”
“Huh,” she said.
“You’ll see. Staying hydrated is important…especially when you drink like me.” He chuckled at the look of satisfaction that crossed her face. “I’m kidding, sweet thing.”
“Uh-huh,” she said, but the corners of her mouth lifted just a little.
They stayed quiet for a bit. Mia powered on her phone and stared at it as if it might vomit up bad news at any second. Her head kept lifting, scanning each passenger.
When the steward came back with their drinks, Keys downed the water and OJ and sipped his coffee, studying Mia. She looks tense. I wonder what’s going on?
When the plane took off, she finally relaxed a little.
After they’d finished their breakfast and the remains and soiled napkins had been carted off, Mia retrieved her tablet from her purse and began typing into the screen. Her vision focused on the screen, and she kept thumbing pages, tapping, and reading.
Curious, Keys’ gaze skittered toward the small display. He frowned. Music agent? Why’s she looking up how to become a music agent? “You looking to change careers?”
Her cheeks instantly reddened. “It’s rude to read over someone’s shoulder.”
“Yeah, well, what can I say? Curiosity got the best of me.” He studied her pretty face and crimson-stained cheeks.
“It’s nothing,” she stammered. “I’m doing research. I wouldn’t in a million years leave Zander. He’s good to me. He practically saved my life.”
Keys’ brows furrowed. “Saved you from what? Or who?”
She turned her tablet upside down and rested it in her lap. “So, tell me, Keys? Are you and Heat a thing?”
His head jerked back slightly. “What? What kind of a thing?”
“You know…a couple. Bi. Gay. Whatever. Are all the girls you screw an addition to your relationship with Heat? Because I’m not, in a million years, going to be one of them.” She folded her hands primly and placed them on top of the tablet.
His stomach bunched into a knot, and his hackles rose. “What the fuck are you talking about? I’m straight. He’s straight. It’s what we do when we’re bored.”
“You must be bored a lot, then,” she said, one eyebrow arched.
“You have no idea,” Keys said. He squeezed the back of his neck. Is Trevor gay? Is that why he acts so clingy sometimes? Nah. He’s not. Is he? He shook his head and focused on Mia. “You’d make a good music agent.”
“I’m not leaving Zander,” she said, but she didn’t negate the music agent thing.
He started ticking off the qualities in which she excelled. “You’re so well organized. That party was orchestrated down to the toothpicks.” He tapped his forefinger. “You’re friendly, but you seem tough.” He tapped his middle finger. “You put up with assholes like me.” He tapped his ring finger.
Her hand shot out, and she curled it around his fingers. “Stop. I’m not thinking about becoming a music agent.”
The feel of her warm hand on his skin made him want to weep. He turned his hand over and tickled her palm with his fingers.
She jerked her arm back.
“I think you’re lying,” he said. “You’re already rationalizing all the ways you can’t leave Zander. He’s a businessman. He’ll get over it if you leave.”
She cast her gaze at her lap. “I seriously owe Zander. I could never…”
He reached out and touched her jaw, gently guiding her face to look at him. “Dreams exist for a reason. I have a dream, too.”
For a second, her beautiful honey-caramel eyes locked with his.
Keys’ heart pounded like Gia’s drumsticks were keeping up a rhythm inside his chest.
Then, Mia looked away. “Fine. You caught me. That’s what Gia said, too—that dreams exist for a reason. I do want to become a music agent. I’ve wanted to be in the music industry since high school.”
“It makes sense, given your last name.” Keys smirked.
“What are you talking about?” A line formed between her eyebrows.
“Your last name. It sounds like Soong, but it’s spelled like Song.” He winked.
She stared at him in a curious manner that made all sorts of heat flood south. “How do you know what my last name is spelled like? How do you even know my last name?”
“Because I’ve taken an interest in you ever since we met a couple of years ago,” he said.
Her eyes narrowed. “Quit fooling with me. Smooth move, Keys, but I don’t believe you.”
He shrugged and grinned, waggling his jewel-adorned fingers between them. “This thing between us…it’s been waiting for the right time to rear its pretty head.”
Her gaze drifted toward the ceiling. “Nice try, dude.”
“Let’s get back to the music agent idea. I want to…”
Her warm hand swiftly landed on his thigh, interrupting him. “You have to promise me you won’t say anything to Zander. Nothing. Do you hear me?”
Nodding, he swallowed and directed his gaze at the sight of her petite hand on his thigh, wishing it would scoot a little higher.
Once again, she yanked her hand away. “I’m sorry, I…”
“I have a dream, too. I was about to ask you to be my music agent. I could be your first client,” he said. A sense of lightness lifted his spirits as he revealed the secret he hadn’t told anyone about. “I’ve been thinking of leaving the band.”
“What?” Her jaw dropped, and she stared at him. “You can’t. You’re a team. You just won more Grammys. You just can’t.”
“Can’t I? I’m bored out of my wits. Fearless Leader, aka, Dante insists on the kind of music we play, the way we play it, everything. I want to stretch my wings a bit and see what I can do on my own.” He spread his arms as wide as the seats would allow.
“But, that’s heresy. And, a double slam for me. ‘Oh, hey, Zander, I’m going to quit and manage the keyboardist for Marked Love. He’s planning on leaving your best friend’s band. You won’t be hurt by that, will you?”
The only thing Keys heard was that she might be considering the possibility. “So, will you do it? We can make the break together. What do you say?”
“I say you’re crazy and I need a nap, that’s what. I can barely keep my eyes open.”
“Fine,” he said eagerly. She didn’t say no. He could work with that. “Take a nap. We’ll have loads of time to chat.” His mood suddenly lifted, heading toward the stars. What a coup. I’ve got to play this vacation right. I plan on abundant sex with Mia, landing a music agent, and leaving Marked Love sooner than I’d imagined. He drummed his fingers on the armrests. When he glanced at Mia, her eyes were closed. Thank you, angel. Then, he closed his own eyes and fell instantly asleep.
A few hours later, he and Mia said little as they exited the plane, gathered their luggage, and found their waiting limousine. The silence continued as their vehicle wove through the welcome swelter of Mexico, making him wonder if the next week would indeed be a total wash.
When they reached the Hidden Shores Oasis resort, with its white stone walls, an infinity pool overlooking the ocean, and abundance of palm trees, he walked along the white sidewalk next to a very quiet Mia. They headed toward the lobby following their driver, who pushed a cart with their luggage.
“Nice place, huh?” he said, donning his sunglasses. Surreptitiously, he eyed the purple shorts, and top Mia had changed into on the plane. The shorts barely covered her fine ass.
“It’s okay. I plan on hiding in my room for the duration,” she said, frowning.
“Aw, don’t you want to have some fun?” he said, letting his gaze linger on her slender legs. Those legs need to be wrapped around my hips.
She sliced him with a gaze meant to melt steel.
It did nothing except stoke his libido to new heights.
As they entered the open-air lobby, a warm breeze stirred Mia’s long tresses.
Those silky strands will feel fantastic trailing across my body when she rides me. I can also wrap my hands around them in a thick bundle when I pin her head back and suck on her neck and breasts. His fingers itched to run through her hair with his cock buried balls deep. His lust-filled fantasies popped when the sound of Trevor’s heated voice met his ears.
“Fix this!” Trevor yelled. “Now!”
The male clerk looked extremely uncomfortable. “I’m sorry, Mr. West, but there’s nothing I can do.”
Keys lifted his gaze toward the front counter, where Trevor stood leaning into the front desk clerk, waving what looked like a room card. Keys strode purposefully in their direction, with Mia trailing along behind him. “What’s going on, Trev?”
Trevor turned to Keys. “What’s going on? What’s going on? They fucked up our rooms, that’s what. They’ve roomed me with one of the roadies, for Christ’s sake.” Trevor’s arms waved as he spoke. “I’m supposed to be with you.”
Keys, glancing at Mia’s knowing smirk, cringed. He patted Trevor on the shoulder. “Well, just calm down. How bad can that be? Which roadie is it?”
“That’s your response? ‘Which roadie is it?’” Trevor’s face looked so red a twinge of worry stabbed Keys’ stomach. “I don’t want to room with Noah. I want to room with you!”
Keys squeezed Trevor’s shoulders and looked him in the eyes. “Chill the fuck out, dude. It’s not the end of the world.”
Trevor didn’t meet Keys’ gaze. “Maybe not for you, it isn’t.”
“I said, stop it,” Keys growled.
Trevor wriggled away from Keys’ grip. “Fine. I’ll deal with it.”
“Good man,” Keys said, encouragingly.
“We’ll still hang out, right?” Trevor said, hope shining in his eyes.
“Of course,” Keys lied, his gaze sidling toward Mia, who stood in front of an attractive female hotel clerk. If I’m not scoring with Mia, maybe.
The front desk clerk said to Mia, “Here we are, Miss Song. Your room will be five-nineteen. It’s got a full ocean view and total privacy.”
Mia’s head pivoted toward Keys, perhaps worried that he heard.
He quickly looked back at Trevor. I heard sweet-thing, and I’ve already committed it to memory.
Keys clapped Trevor on the back. “Take a chill pill, bro, and I’ll meet you out by the pool.”
“Okay,” said Trevor, looking somewhat heartened. He lifted his hand in farewell and tromped away.
The hotel clerk handed Mia her room keys, explained when breakfast was, then excused herself to disappear into the hotel office.
“See you around, Keys,” Mia called. “Have fun on your vacation.”
He pivoted to look at Mia, flashing her his best smile of seduction. “I sure will.”
Her lips pressed together in a firm gash. “I told you, I’m hiding in my room for the entire week, and I don’t want any company.” She turned and strode away with crisp footsteps.
“Sure, sure, I’ve got it.” Keys turned to the pretty desk clerk who’d emerged from the back.
“How can I help you?” she said with a bright smile.
Keys glanced at the name tag on her beige uniform. “I’m here to check in, Angelina. Keys Johnson.”
She focused on her monitor and began typing. “Here we are, Mr. Johnson. You’re in five-nineteen with your girlfriend.”
A wide grin spread across his face. The Universe is practically begging us to hookup. This has got to be destiny unfolding. “You mean the stunning brunette who just left, right?”
“Yes, that’s the one. You both got lucky. We had a last-minute cancelation. You got the last room. Miss Song is your girlfriend, right?” Her teeth sparkled as she spoke.
Not yet. “We’re great friends. Best buds. It will be fine.” He drummed his ring-adorned fingers on the smooth, stone counter.
Angelina nodded. “Our resort books quickly when it’s Spring Break. All the adults want to get away from the kids in other hotels. As you know, our resort is exclusive, private, and, well…” A blush lit her face. “You know…anything goes. I’m sure you and Miss Song will enjoy yourselves.”
Wanting to make sure this mistake was real, he said, “You do know I was supposed to be roomed with Trevor West, yeah? And, all these reservations should have been handled weeks ago by our booking agent, Michael Henderson.”
Angelina’s smile faltered. Her bronze skin reddened. “I apologize, Mr. Johnson. Some double bookings were made. Mr. Henderson has been in contact with us. When we explained the situation to him, what with a flurry of bookings, he said you’d be fine rooming with Miss Song. Will you be fine rooming with Miss Song? I’m afraid there isn’t a resort within several miles of this one…not one as outstanding as ours.”
Keys licked his lips. I’m going to have to give Michael a bonus. “Sure, sure. Miss Song and I will be happy to share a room.”
Angelina’s shoulders fell, perhaps in relief. “Thank you, Mr. Johnson. You won’t be dissatisfied with our service, I guarantee it.” She held out his key card.
“I look forward to it,” he said, grasping the plastic rectangle.
“Your luggage should already be in your room,” Angelina said. “You’ll have a personal butler at your beck and call, twenty-four hours a day. Whatever you need, just ask.” She flashed her sunny bright smile.
“Thank you.” Keys gave a last tap on the counter, then turned and strode away, whistling. This vacation was getting better and better. He hoped Mia felt the same.