CHAPTER TWO
CARLY

“I  can’t believe you still aren’t ready for the window seat,” Griffin teases, nudging London with his shoulder as the plane bounces just slightly from the wheels connecting with the pavement. It was a soft landing, but London still isn’t much for flying.

“You’re starting to look a little green around the edges. Are you okay?” I ask.

“I think so.” She spins halfway in her seat so she’s facing me from across the aisle. Her eyes are as big as silver dollars. “I’m pretty sure that I would’ve puked all over Griffin and poor Travis if I had taken him up on that window seat though.” She leans forward just enough to pat Travis on the shoulder.

“Huh?” He pops his headphones off. “What? What’d I miss?”

“Nothing.” We both say in unison, laughing and rolling our eyes.

“Hmph.” He crosses his arms over his chest, sinking back into his seat. “You can’t keep me out of the loop forever, you know.”

I catch a glimpse of rapid movement coming from just the other side of the runway, so I lean across a sleeping Adair to see out of the window. “Uh,” I point at the window, “that’s a lot of people. Are we sure Las Vegas was the best idea for throwing off the press?”

Travis plasters his face to his window like a kid who just flew for the first time. “Looks like they bought it to me,” he laughs. “I still don’t know why you decided you would rather fly than drive out here, Lon. You look like you’re going to lose your lunch in here.”

“Oh,” she lets out a slow even breath, “I think that happened a few thousand feet ago.”

He nods and wrinkles his nose. “Why did you want to fly, again?”

She just shakes her head and presses her lips together in a tight line. ““Honestly, I just wanted to get out of Tulsa sooner rather than later and thought this was the best way. Is this thing about to stop?”

“Let her just work through it, man.” Griffin pats her leg gently and tries to reassure her that she’s got this.

“Hmm…” Travis studies her expression for what seems like way too long. “You love Tulsa, though.”

“You’re right,” she says, unbuckling her seatbelt as the pilot comes over the intercom. “But not right now.”

“Okay,” he says, clearly not convinced. “You got cold feet or something?”

“Travis!” I interrupt him before he can make her anymore uncomfortable than she probably already is. She’s already told me why she didn’t want to get married in Tulsa and if she doesn’t want to share that very personal decision with anyone else then they, meaning Travis, really just need to back off.

Griffin growls at Travis from his seat behind him. “If she is, you sure aren’t making it any better.”

London just laughs and wraps her arms around Griffin’s neck pulling him in for a sweet kiss. “I am not getting cold feet. I just don’t particularly want the best day of my life to happen in the same place as the worst day of my life,” she explains.

I wish I had someone to count on the way London and Griffin have each other. Instead, I have this lump passed out in the next chair.

“Oh, yeah.” Travis nods and bobs his head from side to side as he considers what she said. “That actually makes a ton of sense.”

“He knows about everything that happened before?” Griffin asks with a squeak in his voice. I can’t help but laugh at him clearly feeling jealous that she shared that information with anyone else, especially his seriously immature brother.

She winks. “He knows pieces.”

“Pieces?” Travis gasps. “I need details here, London. How can I help make sure your wedding is the rockstar Wedding of the Century if I don’t have all the details?”

“I don’t need a rockstar Wedding of the Century.” She leans over and whispers in his ear. “I hate the spotlight.”

He lets out a deep groan. “Can’t you guys do this one thing for me?”

Sigh.

“What are you talking about, dude?” He’s obviously starting to grate on Griffin’s nerves. I’m sure it’s just the stress of the wedding and trying to make sure he doesn’t give London a reason to bolt before they officially tie the knot, but… Travis might want to watch his back tonight. I giggle to myself thinking about the other night when Adair chased him out of Amaryllis Studio and all around the parking lot. He eventually caught up to him and they both landed in a huge mud puddle, since the asphalt hadn’t been poured yet. It was the highlight of my week seeing Adair stalking back to the studio with mud dripping from his dreads.

Travis cuts his eyes toward his phone as he flicks the screen. “This.”

The host of Wedding of the Century is front and center of a large website banner behind her with the words Casting Call in big bold print. “I think she might be my soul mate and I was kind of planning on using you two,” he wags his finger back and forth between me and London, “to meet her.”

“Dude—” Griffin gets cut off before he can tell him how terrible his big plan is by Adair letting out a huge snore that sounds more like a pig being tortured.

“Wake up!” I jab him in the ribs. “You’ve been drooling on me since the panhandle.”

“Huh? What?” He wipes his mouth on his arm. “That was probably not a great idea,” he grumbles under his breath staring at the wet spot left on the sleeve of his leather jacket.

“No, that was gross,” I snicker and click my tongue against my teeth. “We’re here though, so get off me.” Using my shoulder, I shove him back so he’s hanging over the arm of his chair with his head against the window.

“Easy!” He shakes his head and uses his palms to wipe his eyes. “I just woke up.”

I raise an eyebrow at him. “I realize that, especially since you decided to take your little nappy-nap on my shoulder and now my blouse has Adair spit and sweat on it,” I say making a cringe face while shuddering. Dramatic effect is my new best friend.

“Don’t pretend like you didn’t enjoy it.”

I open my mouth to let him know just how far out of control his ego has gotten just as Nash slaps a hand down on his shoulder. “Let’s go.” He motions for us to follow him. “The crowd is waiting and if we go first maybe we can get a few of them off Griffin and London.”

“Ugh.” He grabs his case from the overhead compartment. “Fine. You better be glad I love you and it’s your wedding weekend.” He points at Griffin as he glares through the window at the growing crowd. “Otherwise, I would not be okay with this. You know I hate the press.”

“Trust me, I—we appreciate it.” Griffin says as he leans in to leave a kiss on London’s cheek. Gah. I wish I had that. “Hopefully, Nigel will have everything set up and the plan will go off without a hitch.”

“And if it doesn’t?” She asks, leaning back against The Machine’s embroidered logo on the headrest.

Travis puffs out his cheeks with a mouthful of air and makes a face.

“That looks like something you picked up binge-watching Friends.”

His face transforms into a cocky smirk. “I’m a Joey, right?”

“More like a Ross,” Adair grumbles as he throws his bag over his shoulder like a backpack. “Don’t worry, London. If it doesn’t work then we’ll just throw Nigel in the pit.” He nods toward their manager who is making his way toward the exit door from the front of the plane.

“You know, I have never failed you guys,” he says as he flips Adair off and nudges the door open. “Not even once.”

“You’re right,” I chuckle. “I have complete confidence in you, Nigel.”

London peers through the dark tinted windows of the plane. The press can’t see a single thing through them, no matter how hard they may try. It’s a perk of taking the label’s jet instead of business class. I’m going to miss this when their contract is over. “I guess it’s now or never, huh?” she asks.

“It is,” Nigel says, ushering us through the door to exit the plane. “Adair and Travis, you’re up first.” Three unmarked black SUVs with tint dark enough to match their body paint are lined up and waiting at the end of the ramp on the tarmac with the crowd of press and screaming fans just barely blocked by a flimsy fence separating them from the rest of the area.

“Wait.” Adair scoffs. “Why do we get Travis?”

I put one hand on his shoulder and spin him around to face the door. “Maybe because you both drive the rest of us insane. I just don’t know why I’m stuck with the two of you.”

Travis snorts, “Maybe you should think about that.”

Adair whirls around on his heel and looks like he might actually say something back, but instead he just turns and ducks through the door. Travis’s comment didn’t bother me. We tease each other like siblings all the time, but it would have been nice to see Adair take my side on something.

Anything.

---

“We’re never going to shake them if we all stay together,” Travis grumbles as he presses his nose up to the glass in the back of The Machine’s SUV. “Vic, can’t we do something to help Griffin and London out?”

Vic shrugs his shoulders from the driver’s seat. “I was given very clear instructions, sir.”

He drags his hands down his face. “Can I ask you a question?”

“Sure.”

“Our contract is up in less than a month. Is yours?”

Adair spins around in his seat with his jaw clenched and every muscle in his body flexing. I blink twice to clear my head and try to refocus on the conversation instead of the impossibly stubborn man next to me. “That’s not okay, man,” he says under his breath. “You don’t ask someone about stuff like that.”

“Why not?” Travis holds his arms out in a full body shrug that is exactly as dramatic as I’d expect from him. “It’s not like I asked him about his shoe size,” he snorts.

Vic clears his throat. “My contract was to drive Amaryllis, sir. Mine will be up then as well.”

“So,” Travis says through a smirk, “we could throw them a bone then and it wouldn’t change things for you right?”

He keeps his hands on the wheel as he looks straight ahead at the road in front of us. The light flicks to green and I catch the smirk on Vic’s face in the rearview mirror.

“Vic…” I lean forward to make sure he hears me over the radio. “What exactly are you getting ready to do?”

He turns the wheel and takes us down a road that was definitely not on the GPS route to the casino where we’re booked for the weekend. “I’m helping our friends, Miss Carly.”

“You’re a good man, Vic, which is why I don’t want to see Travis get you into any trouble with The Machine.”

“Don’t worry about me. I’ve done two tours overseas. The Machine can’t hurt my feelings,” he says with a chuckle.

Okay then. I grab my phone and text my best friend, Ainsley.

Carly: Help.

Ainsley: What’s wrong?

Carly: I’m stuck in a moving vehicle powered by male ego and testosterone.

Ainsley: Adair?

Carly: And Travis.

Ainsley: *Praying hands emoji* I got Nash and Nigel.

Carly: Ugh. Nigel.

Ainsley: It’s not all bad. Nash is really sweet.

Carly: If I die, will you please make sure and yell at Stone one last time for me?

Ainsley: You can’t die. I need you to help me with something.

Carly: What is it?

Ainsley: My sister called yesterday.

Carly: That’s huge! So, she’s not blaming you for what happened anymore?

Ainsley: No. She’s not. I still do though.

Carly: *Hug emoji*

Ainsley: She asked me to visit her next month.

Carly: Do you want to go?

Ainsley: Yes, but I’m afraid I won’t be able to keep from breaking down in front of her. I don’t want to make things worse.

Carly: You won’t make anything worse. I’ll go with you if you want me too.

Ainsley: *Thank you GIF*

Adair leans forward to talk to Vic. “Where exactly are we going?”

---

“We’re going to the casino, but we’re just taking a few of them on a scenic route to give Griffin and London some breathing room.”

Even in the middle of the afternoon the lights on the strip are absolutely mesmerizing. I can’t help but let my attention be distracted by them. Couples holding hands on the sidewalk sidestep a few of the more scantily clad street performers, while others let themselves be pulled inside the doors by the same. “There’s something for everyone here, isn’t there?”

“That’s what it’s known for,” Adair scoffs. “What’s got you so melancholy?”

I shake my head and shrug. It’s not really even a lie to say I don’t know. There’s something off but I can’t put my finger on it. “What’s that?” I ask pointing to a crowd gathered around a man who looks older than my grandfather.  He’s got a large canvas on an easel in front of him.

“Oh,” Travis shouts from the back seat. “Can we stop?”

“We’ve still got press on our tail.” Adair’s expression shifts from amused to annoyed in half a second.

Travis ignores him and wiggles up into the second seat where Adair and I are sitting. “Vic, come on. Please?”

“Are you sure you want to stop?” he asks with good reason there are at least four cars full of paparazzi behind us. “There’s quite a few of them back there.”

He shrugs. “So? We’ll get the guy a little publicity in the process of keeping them off the other SUV for longer.”

“Okay,” Vic concedes and pulls into a lot just around the corner from where the street performer is entertaining the crowd. He’s the first one out of the vehicle. Holding both hands up to the paparazzi flooding up to the vehicle, he crosses his arms in front of him and calls out, “Personal space or no pictures.”

It’s a small enough crowd, only about twenty or so, but they’re so eager for that perfect camera angle that it’s still enough to make me a nervous wreck. I tuck both arms around my stomach as a reflex hoping it’ll calm my nerves.

“Are you okay?” Adair asks, reaching one hand out to me. “I’ll wait here with you if you want.”

I shake my head and take his hand to help steady my legs as I hop out of the lifted SUV. “I’ll be fine. I just don’t like the swarms.”

He wraps one arm around and tucks me in under his shoulder. “I know you don’t. I don’t’ think I’ll ever get used to them either.”

“All right, let me just guess whose dumb idea this was.” Devon, Head of Security for Amaryllis, calls out over the screams and calls of the fame mongers. “Where’s Travis? I need to punch him right now.” He places himself between us and them with one hand raised to signal them to back up enough to give us room to walk. “Back up or I’m calling the cops to run you all off.”

“Thanks Devon,” I say, still not sure how to feel about Adair walking with his arm around me. A few years ago, I would’ve done anything for this moment, but now it just feels… strange. Since I can’t really rely on my legs to not give out on me right now, I’m letting it go and leaning into him so he can hold me up. “Where’s Casey?”

“Told her to wait in the car.” He shakes his head looking at the small mob just a few feet away. “I realize they’re just doing their job, but they make me uncomfortable.”

“Same,” I say with a nod.

One of them jumps out in front of the rest of the crowd. “Hey,” he calls out. “Where’s Griffin?”

We all keep our focus up ahead and let Travis lead the way to where the performance is happening.

“We’ve been duped!” He yells to his peers. “If we hurry, we might still be able to catch up to them.”

Adair chuckles under his breath. “Guess I better give him a warning, huh?” He tugs his phone out of his jacket pocket and dials his brother. “Hey, we tried but they caught on. You better scoot.”

I can hear Griffin’s voice through the speaker. “Not to worry. It was enough time that Nigel was able to get them to follow the SUVs out. We’re in an Uber on the way to the airport now.”

“Have a safe flight. We’ll be a few hours behind you.” He slides the phone back into his pocket without removing the arm slung around me.

What I wouldn’t give to go back to when things were this simple. Before the accident…

That’s impossible though. Too many changes happened, to all of us, not just him.

“There!” Travis shouts and runs toward the crowd watching the same man we saw from the street just a few minutes earlier. They’re all thoroughly entranced with his drawing. He nudges his way up to the front and has a conversation with one of the men at the front of the line before pushing his way back through the crowd to where we’re standing just on the outskirts of the mass of warm bodies.

I like personal space. It’s a thing and Adair knows it, so he didn’t push me to go any further. If nothing else, I appreciate the fact he never forces me outside of where I’m comfortable.

“This dude is a legend,” Travis screeches. “That guy I was talking to is his assistant. He says the guy can take one look at someone and visualize their soul mate. If that’s some sign from above, then I don’t know what is.”

“Sign?” Adair scoffs.

“Of what’s meant to me,” he smirks and pushes his way back up to the crowd.

“This isn’t going to end well, is it?” I ask.

“Definitely not,” Devon and Adair grumble in unison. “But since the paparazzi left, I’m going to go see if I can get one,” Devon calls out over his shoulder. “When he draws Casey then I’ve got our one-year anniversary gift covered.”