The Heartbreakers (6 page)

We cautiously continued down the hallway like any good spy would until we reached a set of metal doors with circular windows that revealed the kitchen beyond.

“What are we doing here?”

“Dinnertime,” he said and rubbed his stomach. “I’ve got a surprise for you.” Oliver shoved the doors and they swung open with ease. We were blasted in the face by thick, hot air that smelled of fried food.

It was well past dinnertime, but the kitchen was bursting with activity. I watched as a woman in a hairnet chopped up carrots, her knife a flashing blur. Meat sizzled on a nearby grill as a cook flipped it over. A boy with a mop and bucket zoomed right by us, water droplets spraying everywhere. He was hurrying to clean up a carton of milk that had spilled on the floor.

“Are we allowed to be in here?” I asked. I wanted to leave before someone noticed us and we got kicked out.

“Of course,” Oliver said, like it was perfectly normal to stroll into a hotel kitchen. “Xander has some really dangerous food allergies. We always stay in the same hotels, and the kitchen staff learns exactly what he’s allergic to. I’ve gotten to know everybody who works here.”

As if on cue, one of the cooks shouted at Oliver. “Perry, my man! How’s it going?”

Oliver grinned at me before turning back to the cook. “It’s going great, Tommy,” he answered. “How about you?”

I smiled and bit my lip as I listened. It was nice to see him interacting with regular people like he wasn’t someone famous.

“Same old, same old. The rest of the guys coming down to see me?”

Oliver shook his head and rolled up his sleeves. “Not tonight, but I’m sure they’ll be down for breakfast,” he said, and I watched in confusion as he washed his hands in a nearby sink. What the heck was he doing?

“They better,” Tommy joked as he turned back to stir something simmering over the stove.

When he’d finished scrubbing his hands, Oliver turned to me. “I kind of have this thing for cooking,” he explained. “You’re not allergic to anything, are you?”

“Um, no…” I said slowly, completely confused.

“Great,” he said, cutting me off. “You just wait here. I’m going to go whip us up my favorite.”

I stared after him as he made his way over to a huge refrigerator and began pulling out ingredients. Was the lead singer of America’s most popular boy band about to cook me dinner?

He was.

After finding some empty counter space and spreading out the different food items, Oliver grabbed a knife and a cutting board. When he started to chop up a potato, I realized the photo opportunity I was missing and reached for my camera. As stealthily as possible, I took a few steps back and snapped some shots of Oliver working before he noticed. The potatoes went into a fryer, and while he waited, he started to slice something green. The food didn’t take long, and when he was finished, he packed everything into a paper bag.

“Ready?” he asked and grabbed my hand again.

“Uh-huh.”

Instead of heading toward the pool like I thought we would, Oliver led me out the back door of the kitchen. “Grab the stop,” he instructed as we stepped out into the warm summer night. “The lock on the door gets jammed sometimes, and we don’t want to get stuck out here.”

Bending over, I scooped up the wooden block and shoved it in the door before it closed. Oliver sat down on the concrete steps, and when I dropped down next to him, he placed the food between us. I had no clue what he’d made, but a grease stain was already creeping its way up the brown bag, and I knew whatever had made it would give me a heart attack.

“So, James Bond, what do you have for us?” I could feel my stomach grumbling, reminding me that I hadn’t eaten dinner, and just the smell of something fried was enough to make my mouth water.

Leaning over, Oliver unwrapped the bag and pulled out a Styrofoam box. “Why don’t we start with this before it gets cold?” he said, placing it between us. He opened the box to reveal the source of the grease as steam poured out. It looked like french fries, but they were covered in a white sauce with shredded cheese sprinkled on top. “I had this in Dublin during our European tour. Now I can’t get enough of it.”

“What the heck is it?” I asked, feeling less hungry. I wasn’t normally a picky eater, but whatever it was looked disgusting. Maybe I shouldn’t have let Oliver cook for me—just because he enjoyed it didn’t mean he was any good.

“Garlic cheese chips. You’re never going to look at a fry the same way again.” Oliver picked up a loaded fry, shoving it into his mouth before anything fell off. A piece of shredded cheese stuck to the corner of his mouth.

“Um,” I started, not sure how to tell him. “You got something right here…” I used my thumb to brush the edge of my mouth.

“Oh.” Oliver licked his lips. “Did I get it?” Momentarily, my gaze lingered on his mouth and I wondered how it would feel if he pressed his lips against mine. “Stella?”

“Huh? Oh yeah. It’s gone,” I said, directing my attention to the fries as my heart rate picked up. “So what exactly is the white stuff?” I could already hear the “that’s what she said” joke, as if JJ were sitting next to us.

Grabbing another crispy fry, Oliver dunked it in the goo. “Maymays favor ith galic owder,” he said with a full mouth.

I looked at him and laughed. “Never heard of that before.”

Oliver swallowed. “It’s mayonnaise flavored with garlic powder.”

I wrinkled my nose. “I like ketchup.”

“Figured that,” he said and pulled a handful of packets out of the bag. As I reached for the sugary tomato sauce, he pulled away, keeping the ketchup just out of reach. “If you want it, you have to try this first.”

“Come on, Oliver,” I said, staring down at the sloppy mess. “That looks gross.”

“Nope. You gotta try one.”

“What if I said I’m allergic?” Oliver lifted both hands to his face and covered a sneeze. “Bless you,” I said on reflex.

“Thanks,” he said. “I’m allergic to bullshit.”

“Hey,” I complained and whacked him on the shoulder. “That’s not funny.”

Picking up another fry, Oliver cupped his other hand underneath to catch the droppings. “Just close your eyes,” he told me. I clasped my hands together and blinked.
He
wants
me
to
do
what?
When I didn’t react, Oliver frowned as if it were perfectly normal to hand-feed the girls he hung out with. “Stella, just do it.”

Unsure how else to respond, I did as he said, but not before grabbing my water bottle from my backpack in case I needed to wash down the fry. Oliver brought the food up to my mouth, and his finger grazed my lip as I slowly opened up.

“Well, what do you think?” he asked, as I chewed tentatively. It was a masterpiece of cheesy, salty heaven. I was too stubborn to admit that out loud, so instead I picked up another fry and shoved it in my mouth.

“That’s what I thought,” he said with a bemused smile. We finished the rest of the fries quickly and fought over the last one before continuing with the next course.

“Ready for round two?” he asked me. Wiping my greasy fingers on a napkin, I nodded my head. “Okay, this is something my grandma used to make me when I was a kid.” Oliver pulled out another container. He opened the lid and revealed a weird, pink-and-green food.

“Is that…ham and pickles?” I asked, raising an eyebrow.

He nodded his head. “And cream cheese. It holds it all together.”

“You eat the weirdest food ever,” I said. Oliver had spread cream cheese over slices of ham, placed a pickle in the middle, rolled it all up, and cut them into to bite-sized pieces. Truthfully, I wouldn’t have been surprised if he had pulled out a rainbow eggplant dipped in chocolate and told me it was his favorite food.

He cradled the box against his chest. “Don’t insult the pickle rollups. They’re delicious.”

I held back a snort. “Sorry, I didn’t know pickles had feelings.”

“They do.”

“If I try one, will they forgive me?” I asked, as I covered a grin with my hand. The pickle rollups didn’t sound appetizing, but they looked much safer than the garlic cheese chips. The first dish had surprised me, so why couldn’t this one?

Oliver glanced down at the food in consideration before looking back up at me. “I suppose so.”

I picked up a pickle rollup and took a bite. “Pretty good,” I told him. The cream cheese actually brought the combination of foods together nicely.

“You mean pretty damn good,” Oliver corrected me.

“Of course,” I said and picked up another. “My bad.”

Giving me a nod of approval, Oliver grabbed a pickle thing and popped it into his mouth. As he chewed, a smile spread across his face. He looked like a kid who had just been told he could eat dessert for the rest of his life. I chuckled as I grabbed another roll-up, one that had a little more cream cheese than the rest.

“Has anyone ever told you that you’re a bit crazy?” I asked, licking some excess cheese off my finger.

Oliver shrugged. “I’m a rock star.” The way the words rolled off his tongue made me stop, pickle halfway to my mouth. He swiped it out of my hand before I could protest, shoved it in his mouth, and lounged back on the steps. “People like me are allowed a little bit of craziness.”

“Are you now?” I asked and shifted away from him. His comment made me uncomfortable because it reminded me of exactly whom I was sitting with.

“You know it, babe,” he said with a lazy smile.

“Don’t call me that,” I said. I had no problem with pet names, but when guys used them in such a casual way, they came off as demeaning. Appetite gone, I pushed the box of pickles and ham away from me. Maybe coming out here with him had been a bad idea.

Oliver froze, the smug smile wiped off his face. “Sorry,” he said, sitting up straight. “I didn’t mean anything by that.”

“It’s fine,” I told him, even though it wasn’t. For a moment, I had forgotten that I was sitting with the leader singer of the Heartbreakers. Oliver’s goofy personality had made me bubbly, but now I only felt deflated. And with my disappointment came the realization that I actually kind of liked Oliver—that was, when he wasn’t being pretentious.

Unable to hold his piercing gaze, I focused on my nails. The black polish was chipped in places, my left pinkie completely free of paint.

“Stella?”

“Hmm?”

“You okay?”

“Yeah, fine. Why?”

An almost silent sigh hissed out of his mouth. “Nothing.”

Thankfully, my phone buzzed. “It’s Drew,” I said, glancing down at the text. “We should head to the pool. He’s wondering where we are.”

Oliver studied my face. “You’re right,” he said, his expression unreadable. Then he stood up, brushed off his jeans, and held open the door. “After you.”

The door to the pool was unlocked, and when we stepped inside, I inhaled a deep breath of chlorine. I scanned the room quickly, looking for the guys. There were deck chairs and white plastic tables, a towel rack, and a sign that read: WARNING! No Lifeguard on Duty. Someone had dumped a cell phone, car keys, and a T-shirt on the nearby table. I recognized them as my brother’s stuff, but I didn’t see the boys anywhere.

“Where are they?” I asked and turned to Oliver. He smiled and pointed to the deep end of the long, rectangular pool. All four guys were sitting at the bottom under the bright blue water. “What the heck are they doing?” I asked, as air bubbled up and broke the surface.

As the words left my mouth, one of the dark shapes on the bottom shot up. Xander gasped when he reached the air. “Dang it!” He wheezed and slapped his fist across the water. “I always lose.”

“Oh! A breath-holding contest,” I said with a laugh. “They don’t stand a chance. My brother used to be on a club swim team.”

“You need to cheat!” Oliver shouted across the room.

Xander turned around in the water at the sound of Oliver’s voice. “But I did!” he complained when he spotted Oliver. “I waited almost fifteen seconds after they went under, and I still can’t hold my breath long enough. Oh God, I think I need my inhaler.”

As Xander made his way over to the edge of the pool, Alec popped up, followed by JJ. “There you guys are,” JJ said. “We were starting to think you didn’t get away from Aaron.”

“Aaron?” I asked, turning to look at Oliver.

“Our bodyguard.”

“You know, the one without hair?” Xander added when he reached the table. He grabbed his inhaler off the table and sucked in a deep breath as he sprayed it.

Drew finally shot to the surface and inhaled a deep breath of air. “I am the champion, my friends!” he sang in victory. Alec and JJ responded by splashing him in the face.

“Hey, don’t be sore losers.” Drew grinned and splashed them back.

“Maybe someone shouldn’t be such an obnoxious winner,” I teased.

Drew’s head snapped up at the sound of my voice. “Stella.” The grin on his face disappeared, and he raced to the edge of the pool. After pulling himself out of the water, he stormed over to me. During his approach, Oliver took a hasty step back. I didn’t blame him; my brother could be intimidating sometimes.

“Where were you?” he demanded. Both of his hands gently grasped my shoulders, and he looked me up and down to make sure everything was okay. “You were only supposed to be gone for ten minutes.”

I rolled my eyes. “We stopped for some dinner. I’m fine, promise.” Knowing that this interrogation still wasn’t over, I planted my feet firmly on the concrete and crossed my arms.

“Well, what took so long?” Drew asked. He eyed Oliver suspiciously.

“Oliver was cooking.”

Drew blinked and turned to Oliver. “You were?” His reaction mirrored what mine had been, and Oliver nodded his head. “Well, that’s…unexpected.”

“You didn’t make anything for me?” JJ asked. The rest of the guys had joined us at the table, still dripping wet from the pool. JJ was frowning. “I didn’t eat dinner yet.”

“You had two Quarter Pounders on the way back from the signing,” Oliver responded.

“So?”

“Do you want to die of a heart attack?”

“I’m a growing boy, Oliver,” JJ said and pointed at his muscles. “Sorry that’s something you and your scrawny arms will never understand.”

“Lean, not scrawny,” Oliver corrected him. The two continued to bicker as JJ tried to explain the importance of daily McDonald’s runs.

“So,” Xander said as the rest of us tuned out the stupid argument. “You guys have any problems ditching Aaron?”

“Nope.” There were the two girls from the stairwell, but I didn’t think they were worth mentioning.

“Good,” Xander said. “I don’t remember the last time we ditched our bodyguard. I was afraid Oliver might be out of practice.”

“You’ve done this before?” Drew asked.

“We used to, loads,” Xander said. He looked like he was going to say more, so Drew and I waited, but then a loud yell and splash filled the room, echoing off the walls.

“Jerk,” JJ complained when he broke the surface of the water. Oliver was standing next to the edge of the pool with a guilty smirk on his face. JJ pulled back his arm and sent a spray of water in his friend’s direction.

“Dude, what the hell?” Oliver yelled and jumped back. “I still have my clothes on.”

“Good,” JJ said and continued to splash a wall of water in Oliver’s direction.

Alec turned silently to Xander before glancing back at Oliver. Xander smirked as if he knew exactly what Alec was thinking. “You take the left side. I’ll get the right.” Alec nodded before both boys dashed toward Oliver. They grabbed his arms, lifted him up, and threw him into the pool, clothes and all. Everything happened in a split second, and all I could do was blink in surprise before Oliver resurfaced. He sputtered for a moment and then pushed his bangs, which were plastered to his face, out of his eyes.

“You’re both assholes,” he said.

Xander and Alec gave each other a high five. “That’s for giving my phone number to that crazy chick in Dallas the other weekend,” Xander told him. JJ was laughing so hard he had to clutch the metal ladder for support.

“Very funny,” Oliver grumbled as he swam over to the side, waterlogged clothes weighing him down. “You two better sleep with your eyes open the next few nights.”

Drew nodded in the direction of the pool. “You coming in?”

“Yeah, hold on a second.” I quickly stripped off my shorts and camisole, folded them up, and placed them on the table where they wouldn’t get wet. I turned back around to find my brother glaring at me. Putting a hand on my hip, I snapped at him. “You didn’t pack a swimsuit either! What did you expect me to wear?”

As much as I wanted to keep my cami on, I needed something to sleep in at night. Drew muttered something under his breath, picked his T-shirt up off the table, and handed it to me.

I crossed my arms. “Do you want me to drown?” I asked, refusing to take it. The shirt was an extra large and would fall well past my knees.

“Stella,” Drew hissed, “you’re about to go swimming with a bunch of famous, probably horny guys…in your underwear!”

“What difference does it make that they’re famous?” I questioned him and put a hand on my hip. “Do boy bands suddenly have the ability to impregnate girls with devilish smolders?”

“You know that’s not what I meant.” Drew sighed, clearly unimpressed with what I thought was a rather funny remark. “They are probably used to getting whatever they want.”

My face turned red at his words. “Are you suggesting I’m easy?”

“No!” Drew snapped, and threw his hands up in frustration. “All I’m saying is that your outfit might give someone the wrong idea.”

Suddenly, I found myself repeating Oliver’s words. “What’s the difference between this and a bikini?”

“Stella, you are wearing a lacy bra!” Drew bent over and hissed in my ear.

“Are you guys coming in or what?” JJ shouted from the pool. I glanced over to see that all of the Heartbreakers were in the pool. Oliver had pulled off his wet clothes with the exception of his swimming trunks and left them in a sopping pile on the edge. They were waiting for us to join them.

“Don’t worry, Drew. With you around, I’m going to be stuck a virgin until I’m thirty.” With that, I left my brother by the table, strutted over to the pool, and plunged in.

The water had a sharp bite, and I felt the hairs on my arms stand up as I sank effortlessly. Bubbles rushed up around me, making it feel as if I had jumped into a fizzy bottle of champagne. I floated at the bottom for a moment with my eyes shut tight before pushing off and springing toward the surface. The tight pressure on my lungs released when I gasped for a deep breath.

“Surprise attack!” someone shouted, and I was dunked back under the water as quickly as I had popped up.

After I struggled back to the surface and pulled the hair out of my eyes, I found a smirking JJ in front of me. “Jerk,” I said and splashed him in the face. He just smiled, looked down at my bra, and then winked at me. He was lucky that his back was facing Drew, who was trying to demonstrate that looks could kill.

Then an idea popped into my head. I swam closer to JJ and trailed a hand down his bicep, my nail digging into his skin. “You have such big muscles,” I told him, and JJ’s mouth slowly dropped open in disbelief. I moved closer and slid my arm around his neck. Leaning in, I whispered in his ear, “But my brother’s are even bigger and he’d love to kick your ass.”

Before JJ knew what was happening, I wrapped both of my hands around his neck and shoved him under the water with all my strength. When he came back up, coughing on water, he was greeted by a room full of laughter. “Surprise attack,” I told him innocently.

I looked over at Drew, who was now smiling ear to ear. He swam over to me and pulled me into a headlock. “Have I ever told you that I have the best sister in the whole world?” he asked as he gave me a noogie.

“Ow! Drew, stop!” I shouted, trying to squirm away from his knuckles. Chuckling, he let me go.

JJ, who had finally stopped coughing, turned to me. “You’re sneaky,” he said with a smile, “but I can totally take your brother.”

“Just like you beat him at
CoD
and Xander beat him in a breath-holding contest?” I asked.

“Hey!” Xander protested. “Asthma over here!”

Shrugging his shoulders, JJ responded. “We just lost to save your brother the embarrassment.”

Xander looked horrified. “Wait, that’s not true! I never said—”

But Drew wasn’t paying attention. “Is that a challenge?” he asked, his eyes lighting up.

“Damn straight it is. Chicken fight. Best two out of three.”

“I won’t need three tries, but okay,” Drew agreed. “If I win, you have to admit that I am stronger, better looking, and overall more talented than the Heartbreakers,” he said, grinning. Alec raised an eyebrow at him. “Minus Alec, of course,” Drew apologized to him. “He’s cool.”

“Fine,” JJ said, nodding his head in acknowledgment. “But if I win, I get a kiss from Stella.”

I let out a snort, knowing that Drew would never agree to that. But then one shocking word left his mouth. “Deal,” my brother said and held out his hand for JJ to shake.

“Hey!” I shouted angrily and sent a spray of water in Drew’s direction. “You can’t offer me up like a piece of meat. I’m not kissing him!”

My gaze darted to Oliver for a split second, and my heart thumped when I noticed that he didn’t look happy with the situation either.

“You won’t be kissing him,” Drew said confidently, “because we won’t lose. Now get up here.” Water rushed around his neck as he sank down so I could easily get up. Suddenly, a very fun game turned deadly serious.

Grudgingly, I swam over to my brother and situated myself on his shoulders, just like little kids do with their fathers. Drew stood, and I was raised up out of the pool, streams of water droplets cascading off me.

“If we lose,” I warned him, “you’re paying for my therapy sessions.”

My brother grabbed my legs and held on tight. “Stella, when do we ever lose?” he questioned.

“Never,” I responded and ground my teeth.

Alec, who was almost the same size as JJ, was too big for his friend’s shoulders, and Oliver refused to participate, so Xander faced me in the air a few moments later.

“No biting, nail digging, hair pulling, or cheap ball shots.” Xander recited the rules as I stared him down.

“No grabbing my sister,” Drew added quickly.

Xander flushed red, but JJ complained. “What is he supposed to do? Not touch her? Topple her over with a huff and puff?”

“Can we just get this over with?” I intervened.

“I know I’m a sexy beast, Stella, but you need to be patient,” JJ said and blew a kiss in my direction.

Ignoring him, I focused my attention on the best possible way to beat Xander. He was so skinny, and without his glasses, he might not be able to see as well. But he had long fingers, which would make it easier for him to hold on to my wrists in a death-like grip. It seemed best to go for a quick shove to the chest before he could get his hands on me.

“Someone say ‘go’ already,” Xander demanded. “Stella looks like she’s going to kill me.”

“On your marks, get set, go!” Alec said in a loud, clear voice. If I weren’t so focused on crushing Xander and JJ, I might have been shocked by the number of words that came out of his mouth.

Drew and JJ circled one another, neither making the first move.

“How long do you think this will take?” Drew asked me. I could tell that he was grinning. “Two minutes? One?”

I glared at JJ. “Ten.”

“Ten?” Drew asked, confused.

“Seconds,” I replied confidently. I dug my heels into his sides, like one would a horse, and my brother lunged forward in response.

My hands darted out and connected with Xander, slamming into his chest before he had time to react. I watched gleefully as his arms flailed and he and JJ collapsed into the water.
One
down, one to go…

“Xander, what the heck was that?” JJ sputtered when he resurfaced.

“Sorry,” Xander muttered as he tried to wipe the water from his eyes.

“Well, just don’t let it happen again,” JJ grumbled as he sank under the water so Xander could get back on his shoulders.

Alec directed the start of round two with a smile on his face. When he said “go,” JJ charged forward and the clear, blue water rippled away from his waist, creating a small wake.

Even though his face was pale with nerves, this time Xander was ready to counter my attack. As I shoved my hands against him, trying to knock their tower over, his fingers coiled around my arms, forming an unbreakable grip. I tried to rip free, but his hands stayed firmly clamped.

“Damn, you’re a lot stronger than you look,” I admitted to Xander as I tried to wiggle my way out.

“Thanks.”

“Concentrate, Xander,” JJ growled below him.

With newfound confidence, Xander furrowed his brows and tightened his hold on me. Then he started to pull.