“I can cook,” Noah said. “I’ll cook you something the first night you’re there. If it’s bad, we can switch to takeout. How’s that sound?”
Max whooped. Noah looked over at Benji expectantly. That warm look from before was coming back, so soft that Benji could feel the anxiety trickle out of him.
“I hope you know what you’ve got yourself into,” Benji warned. “He’s super picky.”
“I’ll come up with something,” Noah assured him.
Thanks to Riona, Max was back to talking about the paparazzi on the way up to their hotel room.
“I just think she’s so cool for slamming her car door into his face,” he said as he jumped from carpet square to carpet square, avoiding the white ones. “Like, what wasIdoing? I could’ve thrown my pineapple at him.”
“It just gives them more ammo if you act like a dick,” Benji said.
Max rolled his eyes. “Youcalled him an asshole.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Benji said as they rounded the corner toward their hotel room. “Do as I say, not what I?—”
He stopped. A man was leaning against their hotel door. A man in a slick suit, with his hair oiled back. He turned, giving Benji an expectant stare.
Max fumbled his jump to the next dark carpet square. “Is that another paparazzi?”
Benji shook his head. Michael had bags under his eyes, badly covered with concealer. He smiled, too sharp and tired to be anything but dangerous.
“Whoa,” Max said as he stopped and got a better look. “Does Noah have a brother?”
Benji batted him on the shoulder. “Go play with your hotel friends, okay?”
“What?” Max checked his phone. “It’s almost dinner time. Everyone’s gonna be busy.”
“I’ll give you”—Benji rifled through his wallet—“fiftybucks to get whatever you want from the vending machine!”
Max’s disgruntled look vanished immediately. He swiped the money and ran off down the hall.
“Sucker,” he called.
“Takes one to know one,” Benji called back, an overwhelming feeling of relief washing over him as he watched Max vanish around the corner.
Heavy footsteps came up behind him.
Benji braced himself and turned.
Michael walked up slowly, his hands shoved deep in his pockets. It was a forced casual look, Benji could tell. The kind of calm that hid violence.
“You really should’ve let Noah give you a security detail,” Michael said lazily. “Anyone can get up here.”
He knocked on the hallway wall. His next step faltered, and Benji caught a whiff of beer so strong it made him squint. Sure enough, Michael’s shirt had a dark stain on it, not yet dry.
“Are you drunk?” Benji asked.
“Are you drunk,” Michael repeated in a falsetto that was an undeniable reminder that he had a brother. He wavered closer, hopping from one white square to another, like Max had been doing.
“Don’t change the subject,” he said.
Benji eyed the hotel door behind him. Could he get inside?Shouldhe get inside? If he locked himself in, Max would be stuck out here with him. He had to diffuse the situation.Notsomething he was good at.
“I don’t want any trouble,” he said stiffly.
Michael laughed. “If you really didn’t want any trouble, you would’ve broken things off when I told you to.”
