Page 26 of Stuck With My Rockstar Boss
“Yes, the torches of abused youth! You can’t underestimate what pain and suffering they can cause,” I reply.
To my surprise, Lucas turns to look again and waves at them.
“What are you doing?”
“I don’t know, it’d be nice to talk to some fans. I’ve been kind of avoiding it all tour…” he says and then eyes me. “Plus, if something goes wrong, I’ve got my secret weapon.”
Warmth floods into my chest. Secret weapon. Onstage and off.
One of the group of teens, the bravest one, a girl that looks to be nearly six feet tall with braces and dark brown, overly straightened hair, bounds over to us, followed nervously by the rest of the group. “Oh my god, we are such big fans.”
Lucas smiles. “I’m glad you weren’t just looking at me because I had toilet paper stuck to my shoe.”
“We were at the concert last night and–my mom took us,” she goes on. God she must be like fourteen? Younger? Kids these days… “You were both so good. Oh my god.”
“Mika sounds so good, I just try and follow her lead,” Lucas says and touches my shoulder.
One of her friends, a smaller redhead with freckles, whispers something in the girl’s ear and the girl waves her off. “I can’t ask that! Oh my god, she’s crazy.”
The redhead blushes. I can’t help but wonder if her question would be about Lucas and me and what we are. Or what we’re not…
“You guys want a picture?” I ask.
“Oh my god! Yes! That would be amazing,” the girl says and her three friends all nod wildly.
I hold out my hand for her phone, but she goes past me to ask a stranger to take the picture. I’m confused until one of the girls crowds in beside me and I’m in the picture too. “Okay, wait–“ I say, nervously laughing.
“Smile!” the girl cries out and the stranger takes too long to take the picture.
I must look horrified in each one. I mean, it’s not like we’re kissing or holding hands. We’re just in the same photo. I’m freaked out at the idea of being known this way. No wonder Lucas has all this anxiety over it. It’s terrifying.
However, after the photo, he looks totally at ease. He chats with the girls a little longer and this draws in the attention of other passers-by. He starts signing autographs. He flashes all of them smiles. People come up to me and ask me about the duet: what does it feel like to sing with Lucas? How did I meet the band? Do I have an album they can listen to? From just half an hour being inundated with questions, I feel like I’ve run a marathon.
Lucas puts his hand on my back. “You good?”
I look at him with wide eyes. “This is crazy.”
“Now you know how I feel,” he chuckles. “Come on.”
Lucas says goodbye to the remaining fans, ignores prying eyes, and hops on his bike. We ride off a little further down the lakefront path until the crowds thin out. We find a Divvy bike docking station, park our bikes, and find a cove of trees to sit under. He positions his baseball cap with the brim over his face again and puts on his sunglasses.
“Wow, I don’t even recognize you,” I say playfully.
“Shut up,” he laughs and thwaps my knee. His hand lingers there, fingers grazing my leg gently, before returning his hand to his lap.
I lean up against the trunk of the tree and tilt my head back. “You handled that really well. Maybe you don’t need me anymore.”
Lucas shakes his head. “No, Mika. I was only able to do that because you were with me. You diverted a good chunk of the attention after all.”
“Please,” I snort.
“You did. Plus… I don’t know. Things just feel easier around you.”
Even though I can’t see his eyes behind his aviators, I know they must be soft at the corners. Genuine and true. “You too,” I say. “I mean things feel… it’s easier around you too.”
Okay, what the fuck. This isn’t a love thing. This is barely even a like thing. He’s paying me to be here. I’m like a friend escort. Ugh.
“I’m glad you don’t feel like you’re lugging me around like a kid brother or something.”
