Page 42 of Pierce Me

The first time I saw Spencer’s boat, theL&H, somewhere in the South of France, a year ago, it was love at first sight. Her sleek line, her bow, her four levels all lit up against the starry night just took my breath away. And now that it’s mine to explore, I haven’t even been below deck, so mesmerized am I by the calm water and the cool air.

“We haven’t even seen the boat, yet, guys,” Jude says at some point, reading my mind. We reluctantly get to our feet. “Sitting here staring at these dumb stars like idiots.”

“I could stay here all day,” Miki says.

“So could I,” I reply sleepily.

“That’s it, let’s go,” Jude rolls his eyes. “Get up, you romantic souls.”

This is going to be our home for the next few weeks, during the grueling rehearsals and the brutal training it takes to start a tour. But our souls will be feasting on nothing but open skies and blue seas.

For a moment everything else fades: the public appearances and Lou’s arrival, which already has been giving me stomach cramps. The two shows I’ve stupidly promised to give in Greece. The interviews, the photo-ops. I rarely do these things, and when I did it was always strictly controlled and back home. But I’m a long way from home right now. This country is flooded in light and open air, and I wonder how anyone can control anything that goes on here.

The staff takes us around the amenities: the music rooms, the cinema, the gyms, the three cozy living rooms. The kitchen manned by three chefs. The gleaming clean pool deck. I swear Jude looks ready to jump in, clothes and all. He stops himself at the last minute, freezing in place.

Miki lets out a slow whistle.

The deck is made of rich, dark teak, and everything is spotless. Skye wanders off to study the helm at the front of the yacht, fascinated by its high-tech navigation and communications equipment. The dude has so many interests, I swear. Meanwhile, we peek inside the biggest living area which has floor-to-ceiling windows that offer breathtaking views of the water.

“I’m calling it!” Miki says. “We need to use this room for rehearsals. The acoustics will be out of the world. And the view… Man, if Isaiah doesn’t write in here, I don’t know where he’ll write.”

“Hey!” I pretend to be offended. I’m not.

“I’ll move the instruments tonight,” he says, as if he hasn’t heard me.

I mean, he’s not wrong. The furnishings inside this room are top-of-the-line, with plush sofas and armchairs upholstered in creamy white leather. Then a spiral staircase leads to the lower decks—our bedrooms, which all have king-size beds dressed in soft linens, and en suite bathrooms with Jacuzzi tubs.

I literally can’t wait to dive into my bed, but for the very first time in months, I feel excitement buzzing down my spine for the rehearsals tomorrow. Miki and I will move our instruments together, with no help from the staff. No one knows how we want them exactly but us.

We reach the aft deck, where a steaming hot tub is all ready and waiting for us, surrounded by white-cushioned chaise-longues. We’ve done nothing but lounge all day, and so far, no complaints from me. I let my body sink in the hot tub. I sigh, gazing at the velvet sky, while the Ionian water gently laps against the boat’s hull. I can just feel all the pressure leaving my body like a malevolent ghost. I can feel myself getting lighter, more excited, more alive. I can feel myself getting resurrected already.

I take a deep breath, filling my lungs with salt and night.

We get out in half an hour, dry off and sit on the chairs to do some more star-gazing.

“Oh, wait. What do we have here?”

My eyes snap up at Jude’s words.

I look up and I see a pair of badass orange boots walking on the deck towards me. I shake my head.

No, it can’t be.

I thought I was so relaxed, why am I seeing this?

These are not the same boots.

I lift my eyes.

And that’s when it happens. I see her.

Honey-yellow eyes meet mine. Heart-shaped face, pink cheeks. I’m dreaming, aren’t I?

“Oi, Isaiah!” Someone far away is yelling my name, but I can’t turn away from those eyes. “Isaiah Pan!” Wait, no, it’s not far away. It’s Jude, and he’s standing right next to me, grabbing me by the shoulder to keep me upright. “Are you all right? Hey, you’ve gone all white.”

His hands are on me, holding me up. Why are my legs suddenly not working?

“Tired,” I mumble, “Can’t… Jet lag.” I’ve forgotten all the words.

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