I spun back around, meeting his eyes. “Me?”
Santiago saying he’d come for me made my stupid heart beat a little faster. It didn’t know any better. I wanted to scold it, to yell,“This is the guy who broke you. We don’t respond to him anymore!”Alas, my heart didn’t speak English, and even if it did, it was stubborn to a fault—my heart never listened to reason.
“Yeah, you.” He paused, holding my gaze. “There are a couple fans who want to meet you. And a reporter wants a quote.”
“But I have a heart on my cheek.”
He expelled a dry laugh. “You knew you were about to go on stage, right?”
Murray threw his arm around me again. “I’ll stand beside you, Mae-Mae. Don’t be ashamed.”
“Tell me the truth, Santi. Do I look dumb?”
He took a beat to answer, then exhaled, shaking his head. “No, Maeve. Don’t think you could look dumb, even if you tried. Murray, on the other hand…”
And this was why my heart was so stubborn. No matter how hurtful Santiago had been in the past, he managed to soothe that old pain with the right words at the right time.
I went back to the main dressing room with my boys, and Murray abandoned me immediately, flirting with a couple girls who’d won backstage passes from the radio.
Santiago stayed with me, watching as I posed with fans. It wasn’t just one or two who wanted pictures. At least ten people were lined up to meet me. Most spoke broken English, enough to tell me they’d been following the tour on YouTube and subscribed to my channel.
These weren’t just Unrequited fans, they weremyfans.
The last one in line was a teenage boy. He was on the scrawny side, with big front teeth and thick glasses, but the kid had style. He wore cuffed jeans and a sleek leather jacket. On his head was a black, felt fedora, and in his hands were drumsticks. I signed them for him, and he gave me a hug.
“I begin to drum for you,” he said with a thick Czech accent.
“How did you find me?” I asked.
“YouTube. I want to drum. I follow drummers. You teach me.”
“My drummin’ taught you how to drum?”
He nodded. “Yes. I like you very much.”
My heart warmed, and I gave his thin shoulders a squeeze. “Aw, I like you too. Keep drummin’, okay?”
His nod was vigorous as he stumbled off, holding his signed drumsticks like a prize.
“That kid is never going to forget this,” Santiago said, standing closer than I’d realized.
“You think I am? That was so cool.”
“Yeah, it was. To be honest, I’ve never had anyone look at me like that kid looked at you.”
I arched a brow. “I beg to differ. I see girls lookin’ at you every night. They’d have your grumpy babies if you let them.”
He grunted, his upper lip curling. “Someone wanting me to fuck them isn’t the same as being admired for my musical skill. Although, I’m pretty sure that kid admired more than your musical skill.”
I gripped the front of his shirt and shook my finger in his face playfully. “Don’t make that experience skeevy, Santiago. It’s goin’ in my diary, right next to my entry about the pot brownies.”
He caught my hand and held it against his chest. “You haven’t had any entry-worthy experiences in the last two weeks?”
I hummed. “Not so much. It would be a whole lot of drivin’ on the bus, boring hotel rooms, and late nights. I don’t think I could put into words what it’s like to play on that big stage, so I wouldn’t even attempt it.”
His hands squeezed mine as I spoke, reminding me he still had a hold of me. I tugged my hands back, placing them on my hips. “What about you? What’s in your diary?”
“Nah, no way I’m writing down all the mess in my head.”
“I don’t believe you’re a mess. You’re too orderly to be messy. But messy isn’t always bad. Sometimes messy can be real good.” I gave him a wink, then turned to saunter away. He was always standing too close, getting growly next to my ear—which should’ve been considered a form of torture, it was so tempting. I figured he deserved a little payback, so I put a lot of extra sway my hips as I walked away.
Across the room, as I answered a reporter’s questions, Santiago stared at me with hard eyes, rubbing his chest like he was soothing an ache away.
If I didn’t know any better, I’d say he was trying to rubmeaway.