Aimee and the Heartthrob (2 page)

Tall and with long legs, the girl in the yellow dress had the body of a dancer. He took two long, purposeful strides in her direction. Then stopped.

No, dude. Just no
. Sometimes his ego took over. He wasn’t completely immune to what the internet said about him. Was he a “heartthrob”? Could he get any girl he wanted with the crook of a finger?

He glanced at the girl again. She was biting a thumbnail. Damn, she was seriously hot. He felt his finger twitching to crook.

But then he thought of his last two relationships. Crashed and burned
failed
relationships, to be correct. They’d both been with girls in the business. Kelly was a solo singer—a pretty famous one. The few months they’d been together last year, he’d hated all the drama that went along with being part of pop music’s teen power couple.

Paige had been a different level of drama. He still wouldn’t admit this to anyone, but she had been pure rebound, the quickest, easiest way to prove he was no longer hurt or affected by Kelly’s betrayal. Which only added to his heartthrob mystique…“the player.” And he’d damn well play that up if it meant never getting hurt like that again. Though he knew he’d been asking for trouble when he’d hooked up with one of the girls in their opening act. Now he had to see Paige every day. That sucked on epic levels.

One positive thing about being with someone in the biz was that she knew what she was getting into, and so did he. But because of that, he knew better than to expect shallow relationships to last.

When he did fall in love for real, the whole thing would be different.

If the girl in yellow was part of the tour, he should learn from his mistakes and stay away. But when she flipped her dark hair, his feet—and other organs—overtook his brain.

“Hey there.” It was almost too adorable how she blinked and choked on a cough the second she noticed him standing in front of her.

“Miles.
Hi
—” She was still coughing. He must have genuinely caught her off guard. He’d grown used to girls falling tongue-tied or bursting into wails, but he’d never caused one to go into respiratory arrest.

“You okay?” he asked, tilting his face to her level, which didn’t take much. She was nice and tall.

“Yeah,” she said after another throat clear. “Fine. How…are you?”

“I’m awesome.” He smiled at the way her cheeks turned pink, but then he couldn’t take his eyes off her face, her irresistible mouth, her big brown eyes that were browner than dark chocolate. It was probably a mistake to chat her up, but wasn’t he allowed to be polite to members of the crew? “So, you’re in the show, right?”

She blinked. “What?”

“You’re part of the tour. Sorry, I’ve seen you at rehearsal but don’t think we’ve actually met.”

The girl stared at him for a long moment, then her lips peeled apart. She was wearing shiny red lip gloss, and Miles fixated on that, wondering what flavor it was. If he was as heartthrobby as
J-14
claimed, he’d have known the flavor by now.

“Miles, um… Don’t you…?” She trailed off, her long fingers tucking hair behind one ear. “Uh, yeah, I’m on the tour.”

He grinned. “Excellent.” He was about to go on when her phone beeped. A cute little worry notch appeared between her eyes.

“I have to take this.” She displayed her cell. “But maybe I’ll see you around.” The smile she gave him stole his breath, but before he could say another word, she pushed off the wall and walked away.

Huh. That was a first. Not that he really
was
a raging player, used to getting any girl he wanted, but he’d never had one actually walk out on him.

Before he could decide if he should go after her, someone called his name, and his attention was pulled to the other end of the conference room. He felt a huge smile bust out on his face as he broke into a run. One more reason this summer was going to be completely kickass: his best mate in the whole damn world was coming, too.

“Nick!” He hugged his buddy, and not the two-fisted guy hug he did with everyone else. No, he hugged Nick like he meant it, because he did. If he hadn’t met Nick Bingham five years ago, Miles knew he would not be where he was today. Nick had literally saved his life.

“You made it.” He gave his buddy a shove. “Big college man.”

Nick cackled, a sound Miles remembered from the first day they’d met when he was twelve years old. “And don’t you forget it.”

“I never do.”

“But dude, what’s the deal?” Nick said. “I don’t see any cameras. Aren’t you famous or something?”

“Packing up. We just finished a press conference.”

“Badass.” Nick lifted his eyebrows in mock fascination. “Where do I get in line for an autograph? Will you sign across my tramp stamp?”

“Suck it, dude.” Man, it was great seeing Nick. This was exactly what Miles needed this summer. For a second, he’d started getting that “I’m a serious celebrity” feeling when he’d been chatting up the hot girl in yellow. Having Nick around would definitely keep his ego out of the stratosphere.

“I met a couple of the roadies,” Nick said, “and Lester Pearl. That wasn’t intimidating or anything.”

“You’re working with our manager?”

“The roadies at first, then the production crew in a few weeks. Man, my schedule kinda blows.”

“Welcome to my world. Oh, he goes by LJ, not Lester—he hates the name Lester, so obviously we call him that when we wanna piss him off.”

“Thanks for the tip.”

“Hey, you got the tickets I sent?”

“Dude, yes.” Nick grinned. “Front row center. Jay Z was frickin’
sick
. Sorry if I forgot to thank you. Didn’t I text a pic?”

“Ya did,” Miles said, trying not to laugh. “And never do that again. Your selfies get way too personal when you’re hammered.”

“Had to get it out of my system. Because I’m under twenty-one, the school’s lawyers made me sign like fifty non-drinking and/or substance abuse wavers before they’d take on this internship. But I’m assuming you know your way around those?”

“Oh yeah, I’ll tell you
all
. Sorry, though, I dodge all that. Gotta take care of the money-maker.” He stroked his throat.

“No—yeah, I know,” Nick said, his expression turning sober. “I shouldn’t have brought it up. I know you don’t do that. And it’s cool, of course.”

The truth was, Miles hadn’t drank or lit up for a long time, which kind of sucked when he was the only one who didn’t. But what sucked worse was that by the time he’d been thirteen, he’d already done enough of that shit to last a lifetime.

Nick knew all about that. He’d even witnessed Miles punching more than his fair share of walls back before he’d learned to control his temper. They exchanged a look, an unspoken conversation that conveyed five years of history and understanding that could only occur between best mates. Pulling strings to get Nick this internship was nothing; Miles would do absolutely anything for him.

He put a hand on Nick’s shoulder. “Did you find your bus?”

“You mean that caravan out back? Dude, how many buses and semis does it take for you to stand onstage and sing a love song in jeans and a T-shirt?”

“Hilarious.”

Nick snickered. “Just playin’. This setup is crazy impressive. We just got here and dropped off our stuff, but then I came to find you. LJ told me you were in here, and Aimee went to track down your mom.”

Miles’s mum had mentioned yesterday that Nick’s little sister had to come with him last minute. He’d laughed at the time because it was so typical for little Aimee Bingham to tag along with Nick. Back in Pacific Pali, before he’d moved to Florida to be on
Rockstars Live
, she did that all the time, always followed them whenever Miles was hanging out at Nick’s. He hadn’t seen her since he’d left home. Was she still the size of a munchkin, with braces, and did she still have that curly hair that always reminded him of a teddy bear?

“Mum’s on the chaperone bus. Have you said hello to her yet?”

“I wanted to see you in action first,” Nick said. “But I’m still confused. Where’re all the hotties? I expected a mob scene. Clothes being torn off and you guys running for your lives. I’m seriously disappointed, dude.”

“Aw, you just missed it.” He snapped his fingers and grinned. Then, he spotted the girl in yellow. She was talking on her phone near the far exit. Nick never made Miles feel like a wuss because he didn’t party at the A-Listers’ keggers. Still, Miles did have
one
impressive skill he could flaunt. “Actually, ten seconds before you came in, I was about to seal the deal with someone.”

“Did you just say
seal the deal
?”

“Yep.” Miles couldn’t help grinning, putting on a full-on player display for his buddy. “I’ve got legendary moves, irresistible to any girl, haven’t failed me yet.”

“I remember a time or two back home when you put those legendary moves to use—left a trail of broken hearts down Santa Monica Boulevard. Seems some things haven’t changed.”

“This player’s gotta blow off excess energy somehow.” Miles inwardly barfed at his own words. Player’s gotta play? WTF.

“So what happened, player? Your newest target ran off like Cinderella before you could seal your deal?”

“Lucky for me, she didn’t run far.” Miles pointed his chin toward the girl in the yellow dress. He was a little surprised when she made eye contact with him from across the room because, at this point, she was supposed to start shrieking or crying or turn away, too embarrassed to actually talk.

But, no. Not only was she maintaining eye contact, she smiled at him like before, making his heart give a few hard beats. That was new, and nice.

Along with the pounding heart, his mouth dried up when the girl lowered her phone and started walking across the lobby. Right bloody toward him. Without so much as a finger crook. Oh, it was too perfect. He’d be able to show Nick what a player he was—or was
pretending
to be.

“Don’t look now, but here she comes,” Miles said, feeling like a show-off douchebag, but also like one lucky heartthrob as the girl closed the distance. “You’re about to get one more personal demonstration, my friend. Watch and learn.”

“Miles. Hey.
Player
!”

Miles flinched when Nick suddenly had him by the shoulder and was glaring daggers at him.

“You’re my best friend,” Nick said, “which means I know you
way
too well. So don’t think for one second that I’d let you demonstrate
any
of your skills on Aimee.”

“Aimee?” Miles almost laughed. “Your little sister? Dude, believe me, there’s no way I’d ever…” His voice trailed off as he followed Nick’s gaze, pointing at the girl in yellow.

Chapter Two

It was part humiliation and part vindication. Vindication because Miles had flirted with her, or at least Aimee thought he was flirting. But it was also obvious he hadn’t recognized her, not one single spark of acknowledgment in his eyes. A lot had changed in the last two years. She’d shot up like a weed (as Dad put it), and everything else—like her hair and cup size—had luckily followed suit, making her stand out from all her friends. So it was understandable that Miles didn’t know it was her right away.

The humiliation part came from that same realization. He hadn’t recognized her. The boy she’d dreamed about all those years had no clue who she was.

That same vindication flickered in her chest at the way Miles was smiling at her across the room. Nick was standing with him now, which made Aimee instantly remember what her brother had told her a few months after Miles left home to live with S2J: Miles thought Aimee was an annoying little kid who was always in the way, and she meant nothing to him.

Bitterness and hurt feelings froze that vindication as she walked toward the guys. Miles was staring at her, that perfect smile replaced by shock.

So now he knew.

“Aimee.” His sky-blue eyes were wide. “Bloody ’ell.”

Damn it. That stupid,
adorable
accent. When he’d first moved to L.A. from England, it had been thicker, but it never disappeared completely, especially when he was nervous or excited.

Aimee hated that she knew that about Miles and noticed it when he was talking to her now. Why should he be excited to see her? Or nervous?

“Hey,” she said, not wanting to be rude to the guy, even though she had every right.

“So. That was funny before.” He nodded to where they’d been standing earlier and ran a hand over the top of his blond hair.

For as long as she could remember, he’d worn his hair the same way, short on the sides, longer on top and spiky in front. He’d called it his “mistake haircut,” because it wasn’t what he’d described to the hairdresser at the mall. Now it was his signature, splashed across every cover of
Twist
.

Aimee had heard way too many girls gush about Miles Carlisle’s hair. She had to admit, it was pretty perfect, styled yet purposefully disheveled. It used to look exactly the same when she’d see him in the kitchen on Saturday mornings after he’d slept over at their house. How many professional stylists did it take to give him that rolled-out-of-bed look now?

“What was funny?” she asked.

“How I didn’t realize it was you. You’ve really changed, like,
really
.” When the grin remained on his perfect mouth for longer than two seconds, Nick actually elbowed Miles in the ribs, causing his smile to drop. Then Nick shot a sharp look at Aimee.

Jeez. Could her brother be any more obvious? He’d already talked her ear off on their drive up from L.A., warning Aimee that she had to watch herself and not get all obsessed with Miles again just because he was nice to her. It was humiliating; Aimee did
not
need the reminder that she was a zero in Miles’s book.

“Uh, I mean…” Miles said, pushing his other hand through his hair. “It’s been a long time.”

“Two years and five months.” Gah. Why did she let slip that she’d actually done the math? “But it’s not like I asked to come here.” She folded her arms.

“In that case, I’ll have to make it a party for you—I mean…” He glanced at Nick. “
We
will. Um, so have you seen my mum yet?”

Aimee shook her head. Mrs. Carlisle was pretty cool, and she always had funny stories about living in England and traveling through Europe after high school. She must’ve gotten married right after that, because she never looked old enough to have a seventeen-year-old son. Let alone a famous singer for a son.

If only internally, Aimee had to admit she was looking forward to hearing Seconds to Juliet sing. Live and in person. Their songs were bubbly and infectious, the purest sugary pop pleasure. Despite her hurt feelings about Miles stomping on her heart with soccer cleats, she couldn’t help loving their music, especially when Miles sang lead, his dreamy voice that always managed to cover Aimee’s body in goose bumps. His songs painted the kind of love story she’d always dreamed of.

What sucked was that Miles sometimes starred in those dreams.

“Let’s track her down before it gets too crazy,” Miles said. “I’m sure Mum’ll be as stoked as me that you’re here.”

“Nah, man.” Nick put a hand on Miles’s shoulder, and for a second, it was like the two guys were having an unspoken conversation. “I’m sure you’ve got somewhere else important to go, so don’t let us keep you. We can find our way.”

Aimee wanted to laugh. Nick had become almost caveman-protective lately. Maybe it was because he was in college now, or maybe because last summer he’d come home from freshman year and Aimee had just finished her growth spurt, trading in her colored jeans and kitty sweaters for Taylor Swift–like dresses that made her feel sexy and grown-up.

Apparently too grown up for her big brother.

The second the three of them stepped outside the hotel, Aimee froze in place, her eyes yawning wide. The entire back parking lot was roped off, making space for five huge tour buses parked end-to-end at the entrance, creating an additional barricade. The closest bus was black with tinted windows and had a photo on the side. Oh damn, was that…

“Yeah.” Miles chuckled under his breath as Aimee stopped to gawk. “We, um, didn’t know about this.”

“Dude.” Nick cackled and slapped Miles on the back. “That’s you up there.”

“I know,” Miles said.

“And you’re naked.”

Miles shoved him. “No, I’m not. I just don’t have a shirt on. And it’s not only me. It’s the whole band.”

“And that makes it better that you’re standing with four dudes with no shirts?” Nick was full-on laughing now.

Aimee tried to join in, but getting a larger-than-life view of a shirtless Miles, looking so incredibly gorgeous, made her thoughts go wild. She wasn’t supposed to have lusty feelings for him anymore. Still, she couldn’t help moving around to the side of the bus to get a better look. Double damn… Five of the hottest guys ever created. Though Miles was the most smokin’.

“Aimee, quit staring,” Nick hissed, suddenly beside her. She blinked and pulled her eyes away, feeling like a starstruck fanatic. Although there was no way she was the first girl to get a case of the rubbernecks because of that bus.

“It’s embarrassing, I know,” Miles said. His cheeks were pink, but seriously, the boy had nothing to be ashamed of. “Mum hates it.”

“Why?” she couldn’t help asking.

He dropped his gaze to the ground. “I guess she doesn’t like her baby boy on display.”

“But it’s beautiful.”

Miles grinned and lifted an eyebrow. “Yeah?”

Oh, nut-burgers. Had she actually said that out loud?

“No, I mean, it’s like…really well done—artistically. Very professional and detailed.” She gestured at the ten-foot, high-def photo. “You can see the, um, the dents in your six-pack.” Despite herself, she glanced from the bus to Miles, her eyes lowering to his flat abs, wondering if what was depicted on the bus was true IRL.

“Artistic, yeah.” Miles smoothed a hand over his shirt. He’d noticed her checking him out, making Aimee wish she were dead somewhere far, far away.

Luckily, Mrs. Carlisle came up, carrying two bags over her shoulders which she dropped the moment she saw her. “Aimee!”

Aimee finally allowed a genuine smile as she was pulled into a hug. It had been more than a year since she’d seen Miles’s mother. That had been part of her master plan back then, to stay away from all things Miles. Which was pretty tricky, since Marsha Carlisle and her mom were friends. It was hard enough flipping past news about S2J on a daily basis without his mother passing on news of her own. Or Nick, for that matter.

“How are you, my darling girl?” Marsha asked.

“Good,” Aimee said. “And it’s great to see you.” This wasn’t totally true, but what else could she say to the woman hugging her in front of her half-naked son on the side of a bus?

If she couldn’t keep her thoughts out of the gutter when she was around him, and stuff them way down inside, this was going to be a long and very solitary three weeks.

…

Miles stepped back while his mum and Aimee did the girl catch-up thing. Aimee was almost as tall as her, which made her almost as tall as him. He’d noticed that when he’d first seen her up close.

Damn, Aimee Bingham was all grown up. She looked like a…there was no other word to describe her but “woman.” Double damn. She was tall and poised, not at all like the little rug rat he remembered. Though, he’d always liked her—in a brotherly way.

Judging by the looks Nick kept shooting him, he’d better chill his thoughts about Aimee. Nick was his best mate; he’d never do anything to piss him off or wreck their friendship. He’d just have to think of Aimee as a sister.

Sure, piece of cake.

But when she laughed at something Mum said and tossed her long, dark hair, his thoughts were pretty pervy for a brother.

“Hey, are those roadies?” Nick said, pointing at a group of guys unloading a semi.

“Some of them, yeah. I think you’re looking for Justin.” Miles caught sight of the head roadie and called him over. “This is Nick and my sister, Aimee.” Miles froze. “I mean,
his
sister.”

Everyone laughed at the mistake, but Miles caught the tiniest flinch on Aimee’s face. Why would the slip annoy her?

“Nice to meet you,” Aimee said to Justin.

“Don’t let this guy charm you,” Justin said. “They don’t call him ‘the heartthrob’ for nothing.”

Aimee’s face went red. “Don’t worry, I won’t.” Then she gave Miles a subtle but deliberate look. Seemed she’d been taking lessons from Nick. “Miles
is
like a brother to me. Always has been. Right, Miles?”

It made his mouth go dry, how she was speaking directly to him. Her big brown eyes were mesmerizing, yet also a bit hostile. He didn’t remember that from when they were kids. “Of course,” Miles replied. “You’ll always be that little girl in pigtails to me.” On impulse, he reached out and tugged a handful of her hair. He’d never touched her hair before, and it was meant to be a playful, brotherly, teasing gesture. But her hair was silky and thick, and the front was tied back in little braids. It smelled like something baking in the oven. He had a hard time letting it go.

“Quit it,” Aimee said, knocking his hand away.

Justin laughed. “Looks like you have two big brothers picking on you. Was Miles like this back home?”

“Worse.” Aimee crossed her arms. “It was bad enough having one brother leave his shoes and books all around the house, or never knock before barging into my bedroom.”

“When did I ever barge into your room?” Miles asked.

“All the time when you guys wanted the iPad
I
was using.”

“Okay, I might’ve barged in a few hundred times for the iPad, but I thought it was Nick’s.”

“It was,” Nick said.

Aimee rolled her eyes. “Oh, please. This is exactly how it used to be, and I’ve only been here fifteen minutes.” She looked away, mumbling under her breath. “This whole thing sucks.”

Her reaction made Miles want to laugh. She seemed genuinely unhappy to be there. And seriously, how realistic was
that
? She was touring with a famous band—no way was she really annoyed. But if it bugged her, he’d keep his “brotherly teasing” to a minimum.

“Looks like I gotta go,” Nick said. “Meeting up with the rest of the tech crew. They’ve got me working eighteen-hour days the first week, but that doesn’t mean I won’t know what’s going on, that I won’t
see
everything.” He shot Miles another of those warning looks. “Aimee and I Snapchat all the time, so I’ll know what she’s doing, too.”

“Since when do we Snapchat?” Aimee asked, but Nick’s warning obviously wasn’t meant for her.

“Any chance for us to chill, bro,” Miles said, “hit me up. Don’t worry.”

“Yeah, I won’t worry,” Nick said. “And you.” He turned to Aimee. “Remember what I said in the car. Don’t be all, ya know, hanging around”—he paused and shifted his eyes to Miles—“the
band
. They’re busy—this is their job.”

“Like I would. Jeez. And how old are you?”

“Just…don’t,” Nick said. Aimee rolled her eyes and stared up at the sky, making Nick’s hard expression finally break, which made Miles blow out the breath he’d been holding during the whole exchange. “Catch you guys later.” Nick said good-bye to Mum, ruffled the top of Aimee’s hair, and left.

“Uh, what the hell was that?” Aimee said, as they watched Nick walk away.

“Sounded like a warning…to both of us.”

“Why?”

Miles shrugged. Yeah, his buddy meant business. But honestly, Nick had nothing to worry about. Miles wasn’t about to screw around with Aimee. No way.

Yeah, she was hot (though it was still weird to think that about little Aimee Bingham), so he’d just never allow himself to be alone with her. Easy as that. Then there’d be zero temptation to—

“I’ve gotta dash, love,” Mum said, glancing at her watch. “Some of the chaperones are double-checking craft service, making sure they have all the pre-show snacks. You want your usual circus cookies and warm milk?”

Miles felt his face flame hot. “Mum…”

“Don’t worry.” She patted his cheek. “I know what my sweetest boy needs.”
Great
.
Cheers, Mum
. “Oh, I forgot to tell you, I took over managing the fan club.”

“What happened to Stella?” Miles asked.

Mum pressed her lips together. “Long story, sweetie, and nothing for you to worry about, but it does mean I’m not as free as I thought I’d be until we hire a proper replacement. Aimee, I hope you’ll be as mature and independent as your parents say you are, because you might be on your own quite a bit.”

“You don’t need to worry about me if you have to work, Marsha. It’s no problem. I won’t get into trouble.”

“Glad to hear that, and I’ll hold you to it.” Mum smiled and touched Aimee’s shoulder. “I’m so happy you’re with us for a while,” she added, then peered at Miles. “You’ve got some time; why don’t you show her around?”