Page 103 of Mic Drop

Both hands shoot upward. “Me? Why would I know anything?” He shoves the sheets down to our feet and sits up. “We better get moving. Don’t want to make UC’s manager wait.”

I cross one foot over my ankle. “He didn’t say he wanted to meet me.”

His cheeks flush. Iknewthey were in on this—whateverthisis—together. “Really? I thought he did.”

He’s so cute when he tries to lie. Thankfully, he’s bad at it. “Rock Star, what is going on?”

In all his naked glory, he stands and drags me down the bed by my ankles, causing me to laugh. Over his shoulder, he asks, “Why don’t you text him back and ask him where to meet?”

What are these two up to? I shake my head, text Luke, and join Bennett in the shower. An hour later, we meet up with the band’s manager in the hotel’s café.

“You both are glowing,” Luke remarks.

“That’s what marriage will do to you, friend,” Bennett replies, followed by a wink. If I weren’t sure I was the root cause of this scheming, I’d be proud of my husband for calling his manager “friend.”

Luke and Bennett dive into a discussion about the Oscars, and the factRefocused Destinyofficially has been nominated for best song in a movie. I allow their conversation to go on around me. After the server delivers our cappuccinos, complete with artistic milk decorations on top, though, I dive into the heart of the matter. “All right Luke. What’s this big proposition you two conceived without my input?”

Bennett snort laughs.

“Now, don’t get so touchy,” Luke jumps in. “I’m UC’s manager, you know. When something bothers one of the band members, it’s my job to make sure it gets resolved in such a way as to make everyone happy.”

“By everyone, you really mean Bennett, Coop, Río, Pierce, and Tristan, right?”

“That’s cute,” Bennett pipes up. “Isn’t it cute how she still calls 007 ‘Pierce’?”

My eyes slant toward my husband. I blow on my hot beverage and take a sip, allowing its delicious warmth to spread through my limbs. When neither speak up again, I address the manager. “Please continue. What’s bothering UC that you think I can help with?”

Luke replaces his cup onto the saucer. “Actually, I was going to correct your initial statement. UC is more than only the performers. As you know, we have roadies, lighting, sound and music techs, security, stylists?—”

My hand lands over Luke’s. “I get it. Spill.”

“Feisty.” Bennett sits taller.

“Fine. I remember what you did for Jeb and the rest of the roadies when they were complaining about back pain.”

“I gave them some exercises to do to strengthen their muscles.”

“Right. But did you know that they now meet daily to run through your exercises?”

“I didn’t know. That’s great.”

“It is. And it got me to thinking. I reached out to a few of my friends who are with other bands. Hunte, Cole Manchester, The Light Rail, you know, big names like these. Want to know what they all have in common?”

I have no idea. Great music? “What?”

As the moment of silence extends, my husband blurts, “Touring physical therapists!”

Both Luke and I turn to Bennett. Luke looks annoyed. Me? I’m shocked. Slowly, I respond, “I’ve heard of this for Broadway shows. Cirque du Soleil. Those sorts of physical performances.”

“Hey,” Bennett crosses his arms. “I’m very physical on stage.” He leans closer to me. “Off stage, too. Right, Sweetheart?”

I don’t have the bandwidth to deal with him right now, no matter how sexy he’s being, so I address my comment to UC’s manager. “What exactly are you saying?”

Luke cracks his knuckles and stares into my eyes. “I’m making you an offer, to be perfectly clear. How would you like to become UC’s traveling physical therapist? You’d be responsible for the band, sure, but also for all the crew and roadies. We have a lot of those.” He bumps fists with Bennett.

“A traveling—” I take a deep breath. “UC’s traveling physical therapist?”Could this work?

Bennett lifts my hand to his lips. After pressing a gentle kiss in its center, he says, “You’re already doing the job. You got me back to one hundred percent, but it looks as if Jeb and the roadies could use your services. Who knows what might happen next? Coop could hurt his fingers on a broken guitar string. Río,” he pauses. “Who knows what our drummer could get himself into next? He’s a wild card.”

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