Page 26 of Extended Bridge

Might as well go all out. In front of a mirror, I put it on, then blot. “How’s this?”

“Fantastic. Keep the lipstick. I’ve been looking for the right person for it. Looks like you’re the lucky winner.” With a final scan in front of the mirror, she says, “Let’s go turn some heads.”

Together, we return to the main room, which is about half-filled. Crew members, techies, and roadies mill around Río and Pierce. “Holy shit.” This exclamation comes from Río’s mouth. Of course.

We pretend not to have heard him and approach the crew, where I’m introduced but know I won’t remember a single name. “Don’t worry,” Nese says. “It took me a while too, but you’ll remember their names. Wearing that scarf, they’ll certainly remember you.”

“Hey. You said it was a trendy dress.”

Her palm cuts in front of her face. “My bad.”

I don’t have time to dissect her comment when the air in the room changes. My head flips from side to side until I land on the culprit. Bennett, now in a pair of ripped jeans, graphic T-shirt, and wet hair. My heart rate picks up.

Nese nudges me. “Yeah. Professional relationship.”

“It is,” I correct her, all the while my insides rejoice because he’s walking directly to me.

Get it together, Jenna. Professional. Nothing more.

“Nese. Jenna. Nice to see that you ladies will be joining us.”

I can’t process much, as the bees inside my body have returned with a vengeance. Nese comes to my rescue. “Did our dresses tell on us?”

Without moving his eyes from mine, he answers, “Kinda the dead giveaway.”

From inside the room, Luke’s voice booms. “If you’re ready to take this party on the road, follow me. Three SUVs out front have our names on them.”

Bennett takes my arm and directs me out the door. In my ear, he whispers, “Not a hug. I just don’t want you to get lost in the shuffle.”

This is how I end up seated between Bennett and Río in the back of a black SUV, with Nese in the row behind us beside Coop and Pierce. Tristan and Luke round out our car, with a woman I haven’t met yet seated between them.

I can’t concentrate on the rest of the vehicle’s occupants, as my mind is entirely focused on the fact Bennett’s thigh is plastered against mine. Not like there’s much room in here anyway—Río’s is against my other one. He’s still not wearing a shirt, despite the cold.

To take my mind off the seating arrangement, I say, “So. The call and repeat that you did with the audience tonight.”

Bennett nods. “Was off the chain, right? They were screaming so loud back to me.”

From behind, Coop whacks Bennett’s shoulder. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard them so riled. Am I right, 007?”

“Yup.”

No one comments on Pierce’s lack of enthusiasm, as Río interjects. “It was fucking awesome!”

From the back row, Tristan adds, “I don’t know what it was like for you before, but I’ve never heard anything like it.”

With all five band members talking about the concert, Idecide now is not the right time to discuss physical therapy alternatives. I fold my hands in my lap, allowing the conversation to swirl around me. Jibes, laughter, and accolades are bandied around. Even Luke offers his own assessment—they’re only going to improve with each gig.

Río gets on his knees and faces the back of the SUV, leaving Bennett and me in sort of a bubble. The lead singer takes another swig from his water bottle. “Were you going to make a comment about the call and repeat, or were you opening up a topic for conversation?”

Damn perceptive man. “I was going to offer you a suggestion.”

He cups the ear closest to me. “I’m all ears.”

Glancing around, I confirm no one is paying any attention to us. Río and Coop are engaged in a deep discussion about what seems to be a drumbeat, punctuated by laughs from Nese, with the two in the backseat offering their two cents. I can’t see or hear Pierce. Maybe if he overhears us discussing Bennett’s physical therapy progress, he might believe I’m here for work. Nothing more.

I pluck at the bottom of my dress. Here goes nothing. “I was thinking that instead of taxing your right thigh with the movement you were doing to encourage audience participation, you might do cross-body points with your hands. You’d get the same look, without the possible downside of reinjuring your thigh.”

Bennett performs a modified version of my idea from the confines of his seat. “I think I can do that. The old way did hurt,” he admits.

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