Running into Ross—aka my lifelong musical crush—at the pool felt fortuitous.
Until I opened my mouth and messed everything up.
With a sigh, I head back inside, undecided about whether I want to attempt to get a few hours’ sleep or if I should go to the hotel gym and exhaust myself into a nap. Sleeping pills are always an option, but I’ve resisted so far. At some point, I might have to give in, but for now, I’m taking things one day at a time.
“Wynter. Wait.”
I turn in surprise to see Ross heading my way.
I avert my gaze, trying not to stare.
I had a crush on him as a kid, watching Ross & the Rock-its videos on TV and dancing around the living room to their music. My mother, sister, and I had been huge fans, and it was something we shared until our mother’s death.
“Hey, I’m sorry about before.” He strides over to me, and we come to a stop, facing each other. “No one’s ever recognized me before. Not since I started working for Onyx Knight. You caught me off-guard, but I shouldn’t have been a jerk. I apologize for that.”
“It’s okay.” I shrug. “I shouldn’t have said anything. Your secrets are none of my business.”
“I could’ve handled it better. And honestly, it’s not a secret. I’ve just moved on and don’t think about it that much.”
“That’s fair. And I’m sorry too. I shouldn’t have blindsided you. My bad.”
“Can I buy you breakfast?”
He’s asking me on a date.
Casual, platonic, it doesn’t matter.
Ross Rockit just asked me to breakfast.
Fuck yeah!
Hopefully, I won’t sound as excited as I feel.
“That sounds nice. Thank you.” I follow him back inside without doing a little jig and we head to the hotel restaurant, which just opened.
Since we’re the only people there, they seat us by a window where we can watch the rising sun.
“When did you know?” Ross asks once we have coffee and placed our food orders.
“Since the first time I met you,” I admit. “As soon as I saw the tattoo on your forearm, I thought it looked familiar, so I found the video for ‘Baby’s Got My Heart,’ and sure enough, that was it.”
He nods, absently rubbing his hand over the tattoo. “I forget it’s there most of the time.”
“And no one else has ever recognized it?” I ask incredulously.
“A few times, but it’s more like, hey, that looks like the tattoo from ‘Baby’s Got,’ and I usually just laugh and tell them that was my inspiration.”
“And the whole thing where your name is Ross and the band was called Ross & The Rock-its?”
“What can I tell you? I’ve done a good job at going incognito. And it doesn’t hurt that there’s some gray in my hair now, I need glasses to read, shit like that.”
“Well, I won’t expose you. So to speak.”
He chuckles. “I appreciate that. It’s just… it’s not who I am anymore. And I don’t want it to become a thing. I like my job and wouldn’t want to do anything that might look bad for the band.”
“You think they would care?” I ask curiously.
“I don’t think they’d be upset, but I don’t know how they’d feel about it if I suddenly started getting asked for autographs or interviews. That wouldn’t be cool.”
