Page 9 of Siren's Heart

"You know exactly what," Adam, the oldest Walker brother, scolds, but it's too late. The whole atmosphere has shifted. The magic is gone, and Kayla and Millie look incredibly uncomfortable, quickly excusing themselves.

"Who was that?" I ask Asher, blood boiling. He's taller than all of us, he must have seen which dickhead was running his mouth.

"Some B-List. Unimportant. Rich’s got it." He nods to our right, where Rich beckons a guy I’ve never seen over and leads him to the locker room. I hope he puts him in his place.

Meanwhile, Asher and I go back to throwing balls at each other. Physically. But I function on auto-pilot. Mentally, I’m far, far away, all of my thoughts revolving around her. Millie. I mouth her name. God, I love the way her name rolls off my tongue. Millie.

"Goddamnit, Luca. Quit dreaming and catch the fucking ball." I raise my middle finger at Asher and retrieve the thing from a few meters behind me.

Millie. Her blonde curls looked so incredibly soft. Just like her pink, pouty lips. I want to paint the walls in my apartment the adorable rose shade of them so I'll never forget it. So I can stare at it all day.

"Do you know them?" I ask Asher. Without having to clarify, he instantly knows who I'm talking about.

"Kind of."

"Talk to me." He knows I'm not the best at keeping up with pop culture, or anything happening on the internet. He's always giving me shit for it, but I only use my phone for e-mails, calls, and messages with my family.

At the beginning of my career, just before starting to film my first big role, Van recommended I avoid social media, and I did just that. Immediately after our meeting, I deleted all of my accounts and wiped the apps from my phone. I wasn’t a big social media user to begin with, but it's unbelievable how much happier I've been since I don’t have to deal with all of the notifications popping up.

Instead, I read, play games, or watch TV, all of which make me feel way more productive than doom-scrolling the World Wide Web. Nowadays, I barely keep up with what's happening in the TV entertainment world, and if I do, it’s because it’s part of my job, much less what's going on in pop music.

"Why?" He asks, his voice dripping with smugness, as he wiggles his eyebrows at me. I sigh and roll my eyes.

"Because I'm asking you." I look at him pleadingly. Judging by the others’ reactions, I’d find the answer to most of my questions online. But each and every person standing on this grass knows how much of an untrue, slippery slope the internet is when it comes to celebrities.

"Alright, alright," he concedes and looks at the stadium roof as he rolls thoughts over in his head, throwing me the ball without looking. I scramble and almost drop it, but finally, I have it cradled against my chest, pumping my fist in the air before throwing it back at him.

"So, the Siren’s. They had their big breakthrough four years ago, I think? Nowadays, they’re a very big deal. They have shows in stadiums all over the world, and they even did a few movie soundtracks." He throws me the ball, still looking at the sky.

"According to tabloids, so take it with a grain of salt, the blonde one, Millie, changes her boyfriends like underwear. Feels like every month, she’s plastered over the web with another poor bloke wrapped around her little finger. Not too much known about the brunette in that regard."

Tilting his head, he finally looks at me. "She was going to be cast as a counterpart for me in that rom-com I did early last year. Thank God she didn't. I hate working with amateurs." I nod, vaguely remembering him mentioning that he might have to team up with a singer. He wasn't thrilled. At all. But I never followed up on it, assuming he’d tell me. Suddenly, his expression turns serious. "Listen, Luca, I don't think Millie is a smart idea."

"When have you ever known me to be smart?" I tilt my eyebrow and throw the ball right at him.

Millie

"What's wrong with her?" Mike asks Kayla in a hushed voice as I hide a yawn behind my hand. I've been distracted all day, and I just can't get this damn choreography into my head. Why the hell do we need a completely new one if we have our standing dance routines for the songs already?

We've been practicing since nine in the morning, and it's already one pm. Of course, my focus would start to slip at some point.

"I think she hit her head," Kayla answers him dryly, giggling when she sees me raise my hand to push a strand of hair behind my ear with my middle finger. "Or I guess she got struck. By loooove," she adds exaggeratingly, and makes a mocking heart gesture with her hand. I sigh. She isn't completely wrong, and that bitch knows it. We've known each other for half of our lives. Of course, she'd be aware I'm feeling flustered.

"Nothing's wrong," I finally chime in, hiding a deep sigh. "The only thing clouding my brain is jetlag. I'm so ready to continue."

Mike chuckles at the dry tone of my voice. He knows I don't like working on choreographies. Once they're in my head and I'm performing them, it's fine. But getting there is always a challenge.

Especially when all I can fucking think about are those striking green eyes. And those damn dimples on his cheeks when he smiled at me.

Luca Shepherd.

I've seen him in movies before, but the screen does not do him justice. At all. In real life, he's much taller than I thought he was. The energy he exudes is a lot... more. I don't know how else to say it. On-screen, he's one of many actors, but in real life? He stood out. Took my damn breath away, in fact. Among all the A-listers on the teams, my eyes kept wandering back to him, my skin prickling like licks of electricity nipping at it where I felt his eyes on me.

I should stay away from that man. I've had my heart broken often enough by guys who underestimated what dating a Siren would entail; they thought I was kidding when I warned them of the degree of invasion to their private life that dating me brings with it. So, I'm going to keep this little crush buried somewhere deep inside me and force myself to focus on the choreography Mike is trying to get me to remember.

It doesn't help that they've set up our practice room right here at the stadium. With not only two mirrored walls, but also giant windows facing the field where the guys practice every single day. There is no direction I can look without seeing the field.

"Hey, princess." Kayla nudges me playfully. "Focus."

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