Rise by Cassandra Robbins

 

 

 

 

GIA

Present – Twenty-five years old

On the way to London, England

“Granger, I love you.” “Ammo, I want you.” “Rock God, Cashhhh, over here.” Their screams make my already limited amount of patience drop to zero.

“Nuke, Cash, remember me? Rock God…” I stand patiently and watch all the usual chaos. This is the madness that happens whenever you travel with them. Yet today, I’m not in the mood. We’re preparing to fly to London, but the fans essentially attacked us when we made our way across the tarmac. Thank God they have Ace and his crew. I know Rhys hates having security but they… he needs it.

“Hunter, what’s it like hanging out with The Stuffed Muffins?” I roll my eyes at the kiss-ass paparazzi.

Hunter either is a pro at working the room, or he loves them. God, he’s almost as coveted as all The Stuffed Muffins combined. They have that in common. Every member of The Stuffed Muffins is to-die-for hot, and Hunter Falcon fits right in with his California surfer boy look.

He’s also a machine. I don’t know how he does it, but he never gets tired. He’s probably ten years older than me, but the man can shoot all night, get three hours of sleep, then text me because he came up with a great idea about following Cash around as he goes on his morning runs.

That might be why I’m so burned out already. Because I don’t care that Cash runs every day.

I almost told him that this morning. But knowing Hunter, he would have had Sebastian turn the camera on me.

That’s another thing I’m going to have to deal with. Not only is Hunter a consummate flirt, he desperately wants to interview me. I have declined that along with a lot of dinner dates.

I look down at my white sneakers. I rushed to get ready, so my hair is piled on top of my head in a messy bun and I’m wearing light makeup: mascara and red lipstick. Which is stupid since everyone is always late. I lift my camera and snap some shots of Nuke. He’s laughing, and even though it’s freezing and slightly raining, he’s still shirtless. It works for him. His body is all muscle and lean. But I can’t remember seeing him in a shirt in the week that we’ve been filming.

“Stop it.” Sebastian smirks at me. I look up at him. I guess he saw the eye rolls.

“What? I’m tired,” I groan as he wraps an arm around me.

“Do you need a Valium? I can feel your energy.” He looks concerned. I wish I could reassure him, but honestly, the lack of sleep and being around Rhys is messing with me.

“If they’d get their asses on the jet, we’d be there in no time,” I grumble, ignoring the throngs of women surrounding Rhys.

“Why can’t I just take the train?” I look up at Sebastian’s handsome face.

“Because you can’t.” He digs in his pocket.

“Here. Take this now.” He hands me a yellow pill with a V on it. I take it without water and reach into my bag for my cigarettes.

“I thought you were stopping.”

“I am, just not today.” My eyes narrow as I light up.

He holds up his hands like I’m robbing him. “I’m not gonna bitch while we’re filming. Also, Hunter loves your photos. I heard him bragging to someone on the phone yesterday about you.”

I roll my eyes. “You do know he wants to sleep with me,” I mumble, blowing the smoke out into the gray, rainy atmosphere.

“You said no. He’s been respectful, right?”

I smile at his protective side coming out. “Yes, although I have a feeling he thinks he can charm my panties off me.” I roll my neck, hearing it crack. I need a freakin’ chiropractor.

“He’s a creative genius. And completely self-absorbed. I mean, for him not to have picked up on the sexual tension between you and Granger.” He turns me so that I’m facing the action as he massages my shoulders.

My eyes go straight to Rhys. As if he can feel me, he looks over. “There’s no tension,” I say automatically as I try to look away from his intimate stare but can’t.

“All right, we are cleared to take off. Let’s go.” Rafe walks up. He pats Sebastian like they’re pals while he grabs my arm, forcing me to speed walk with him toward the jet.

And here it comes. I shouldn’t get on this plane today. I’m ready to freak, and all I’m doing so far is climbing the stairs.

“Stop pushing me,” I say to Rafe who’s ignoring me.

He puts a hand up, blocking a couple of groupies from climbing the steps. “Sorry, my loves. We need to see how many we have before I let more on.”

I almost say you can have my spot, but like a nitwit I keep climbing until I stop at the entrance. The jet is amazing. It seats close to twenty-five people with a massive bar in the back, which is where the cool kids—meaning the band members—get to sit. It’s decorated in white and black, as in the seats are white, buttery leather, the carpet is thick and black, and the tables are black, along with all the sleek, voice-activated TVs that slide down when needed.

God, what is wrong with me today? My flying phobia hasn’t been this bad in a while. Sebastian and I flew back to LA, and I was shockingly calm. Might have been because I was running away from Rhys and what happened in my room. Whatever, I made it.

We got in on Monday. I packed, paid my bills for a couple of months, and signed my contract all that day. Then I fired Jeff, telling him to take his commission and not call me again.

Tuesday I had lunch with my mom, Axel, and Antoinette. Three hours of hell, listening to Axel bitch at me about Rhys, like he was educating me on the fact that he’s a fucking rock star and incapable of love. I almost went off on him. Clearly, he thinks I’m stupid. If anyone knows exactly what and who Rhys Granger is, it’s me.

I simply smiled and assured him he had nothing to worry about. It’s not like I’m perfect. I did fuck him and then basically ran. The only positive thing to come out of that lunch was Antoinette excused me from being a bridesmaid.

I kind of felt guilty. But I know my limitations, and being around all the Disciples’ wives, with their kids and happy marriages? Yeah, I can’t handle that.

“Gia, let’s go, hustle, hustle.” Rafe moves me in and out of the way of the entrance. I’m ready to tell him I can’t fly today, but Hunter enters, laughing with Sebastian, riding the high of the adoring fans.

All the chaos that was outside starts to trickle inside as I sink into a seat and try to breathe.

“So, Gia.” Hunter drops his giant leather messenger bag on the table.

Shawn, one of the flight attendants, slithers over. She’s my least favorite. Pretty much rubs me the wrong way with her fake boobs and fake-looking flaming-red hair.

“Can I get you anything, Mr. Falcon?” she purrs at him.

Again, I roll my eyes. I’m sorry but she bugs me. Maybe it’s because I suspect the entire band has fucked her. That includes Rhys.

“Yeah. Martini, Bombay Sapphire or Hendricks.” When he stretches, his honey-wheat blond hair falls over one eye.

“Gia, baby, anything?” I sit up, gritting my teeth. I hate the baby thing. I should say something, but I’m trying to fight a panic attack, so who the fuck cares. If he were anyone else besides Hunter Falcon, he’d be looking at a lawsuit. You can’t call women baby or honey anymore and he knows it.

God, even the hair and makeup folks are taking offense. Apparently, they don’t appreciate people calling them Glam Squad or Vanity. They prefer people call them hair stylists and makeup artists.

“No, thank you. Water, please.” Shawn doesn’t even acknowledge me.

“Make it three. Sebastian needs one.” Hunter drops down into the seat and looks at his watch and phone.

“Tomorrow in London, I want to film the morning interview with Shredder Monthly and the guys.”

“Yep, already scheduled it.” Sebastian sits and rubs my shoulder as if he’s trying to give me support.

“Gia, I need you there also.” Hunter winks at me, then looks over at the back of the jet where the band is.

“Sebastian, get the portable.” He smiles and says pointing, “Film it all.”

Nuke is pounding on his chest as he grabs a groupie and throws her onto the couch.

The captain comes on, but Cash is playing his bass, so I assume he was trying to tell us we are taking off. Apparently, when you’re a rock band, you don’t have to follow rules. Because as usual, I’m the only one who’s buckled in. Sebastian opens his backpack and pulls out the camera. The studio spent a fortune on it. Both Sebastian and Hunter threw a fit, stating they needed to be able to film anytime any place.

“You okay?”

I look at Sebastian, then over at Rhys who is laughing with Ammo and a couple of groupies.

“No.”

“Okay, well, I need to work. Why don’t you grab your camera? It will take your mind off things.” He turns on the camera.

Fucking nightmare. How long is this flight?

“What’s wrong with you?” Rafe’s demanding voice makes me jump.

“Jesus Christ, you scared me.” My hand goes to my throat, and I can feel my heart pounding and that’s all it takes. Why didn’t I take more Valium?

Rafe sits down where Sebastian vacated his seat and straightens his tie as his eyes scan my face.

“You’re pale. What’s going on?” I almost grab his hand because maybe he’ll get the plane to land, and quite frankly I’m freaking, so Rafe is better than nothing.

“Here we go.” Shawn comes back and drops off three martinis and no water.

“Can I have a water?” I say, my voice tight. As the jet dips, my eyes snap to Rafe who looks like he’s making a huge decision.

“Shawn, water, now,and Granger?”

“I… we need to land. I can’t…” I shake my hands as I try to take in breaths.

“Christ.” Rafe grabs my head and puts it between my legs as I hear Sebastian calling me. Hunter asks if I get air sickness, and all the while, I’m about to pass out if Rafe doesn’t let go of my head.

“I need to get out of here. I can’t breathe.” I try to sit up, knock away Rafe’s hands, and run.

“Gia.” His gravelly voice almost makes me burst into tears because as much as I hate him, I love him, need him.

Suddenly I’m free as he picks me up and sits down, holding me in his lap.

“Breathe. I got you, Gia. In and out,” he whispers in my ear.

I cling to his shirt, listening to that voice I’ve loved forever, my hand on his chest where his strong heartbeat thumps beneath it.

“I have Valium,” I hear Sebastian say.

“She’ll be fine,” Rhys responds, and the whole plane disappears. It’s just him and me. No more screaming or guitars, girls, and cameras. Only us and his strong heartbeat.

“That’s it, baby.” His hand is in my hair as I lean into him and breathe in his scent. Fresh rain and clean, spicy skin with a touch of smoke.

“I hate being like the—”

“You’re fine. Listen to my heart.” I close my eyes and match my breathing with the strong thud. Right now, I don’t care that I need him, or that he makes me feel secure. All I can do is breathe.

“Are you getting this, Sebastian?” Hunter’s voice breaks into our world, and I lift my head, but all I see are amber-colored eyes.

I blink at him as he lowers his lips to mine. It’s slow and calm, almost as if we’re still in our own bubble. I cling to his T-shirt and our tongues dance together. My head falls back, and I let him take me away. If I live to be a hundred, I will always remember this moment when we soared above the world, Rhys and I.

He lifts his head, his eyes caressing mine. “You feel my heart?”

I nod. “I love it,” I say, not even caring what I say or do. Reality can slap me awake when we land, but right now I’m right where I need to be.

He pulls me in tight and I listen to his heart. I survived the panic attack, but the real question is can I survive him?

I should pull away.

He will hurt me again.

“It beats for you,” he whispers.

I can’t look at him. He’ll see all of me right now, and that can’t happen. I burrow my nose in his neck while he strokes my hair. When the noise of the jet returns, he lowers the seat, yet all I hear is the slowing of his heartbeat. I sense his body relaxing, which is a little surprising. Rhys is always on the go, his mind rarely at rest. Even when he was young, he never really rested.

You feel my heart? It beats for you.

It rings in my head. I know I’m going to be mortified later. But right now, I’m tired. I listen to his heart and let myself drift away with him.