"I should change," I mumble.My emerald-green skater dress makes my eyes pop.And my boobs look fantastic in it, but I should at least project the appearance of a professional for this interview, right?Right.The dress, while adorable, doesn't scream, 'I'm a professional baddie.'
"Don't you dare," Brielle says."You look beautiful."
"I look like a college kid."
"Uh, two months ago, you were in college."She eyes me like I'm crazy."You graduated with honors, Ireland.And you just finished an internship for one of the biggest music publications in the United States.You weren't in a boring suit when you did any of that."
She has a point.But I wasn't interviewing the hottest freaking man alive when I did any of that, either.So…she has a moot point.I twirl on my heel, heading for the suitcase I dragged onto the second bed in my room earlier.I don't even know why hotels have closets.Anyone who has time to unpack and repack on vacation is not living their best life.
I barely make it two steps when my phone rings.
My heart instantly slams against my ribcage.
For a split second, I consider not answering.I don't know why!Panic pumps through my veins instead of blood and it seems like a reasonable thing to do.But then I remember how much I want this interview…and how much I liked it when he smiled at me.And I yank my phone out of my pocket like I'm in a race.
"Hello?"
"Ireland."My name rolls off his tongue like the notes of a seductive song."Where are you, sweet girl?"
Sweet girl.Oh, he's good at this charming rockstar thing.Way too good.
"My hotel," I say."Where are you?"
"Probably down the hall from you."The smile in his voice makes my stomach flutter."Where do you want me?Your room or mine?"
Stretched naked across a bed, please.
I glance around my tiny room.My clothes are strewn over the back of the chair.My toiletries litter the top of the desk.An empty Starbucks cup sits beside the mini-fridge.It's a hot damn mess.
"Yours.Definitely yours," I hurry to say.There's no way he's stepping foot in here with it looking like a tornado blew through.My panties are out and everything!"You aren't allowed to see my room yet."
"Yet?"
"That's not what I said," I lie.
His wicked laugh rolls down the line, turning my nipples to hard points."I'm going to let you pretend that isn't what you said for now," he chuckles."Thirtieth floor, room 3811.See you in five."
"Wait.I?—"
He disconnects before I can tell him I need to change.
I pull the phone away from my ear, huffing, "He's bossy."Except I say it with a smile so it doesn't sound nearly as annoyed as it should.
"Asher says he's always been that way."Brielle laughs quietly."He says Crue means well.He just doesn't like not being in charge."Her laughter fades."They didn't have any control for a long time."
"I know," I whisper, my heart pulsing with empathy for them.As a kid, I don't think I realized how much they went through.To me, they were just these incredibly talented guys who also happened to be gorgeous.
I don't think anyone really understood back then just what it was like to be a boy band or to be a worldwide phenomenon.But the curtain has been pulled back on the music industry over the years, and it's ugly behind the scenes.Especially for bands and artists that shoot to superstardom as teenagers.Everyone wants to profit.Very few want to protect.
I'm glad things are different for the guys this time around.They deserve to do it their own way at least once.They earned that much.And it's what the fans want for them, too.
Brielle crawls off my bed, stretching."You better go before he comes looking for you.I'm going to find Asher."
Right.No time to change.
I spin in a circle, looking for my laptop bag.Brielle spots it before I do.She retrieves it from under the desk, holding it out to me.I run my fingers through my hair, trying to tame the unruly strands—not that it'll do much good.My hair does what it wants when it wants.And then I inhale a deep breath."Wish me luck."
"I don't think you need it," Brielle says, blowing me a kiss as she ducks out of the door ahead of me."But break a leg anyway."
