Alicia Martinez is determined to keep a low profile. After a tough year, she deletes all of her social media and retreats to the small coastal town of St Andrews in the hopes of starting over - and avoiding her tumultuous past.
Oliver Hogarth is a...
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This girl was trying to kill him.
Oliver clutched his drink, his mind racing. Dear god. He had never danced a day in his life. Actually, that wasn't quite true; he had briefly taken dance lessons ahead of their North American tour, fell off a box, and sprained his wrist. After that, the boys generally stuck him in the back.
No.
He couldn't get up on that stage.
And yet.
He looked at Alicia. Alicia, who was sitting in her tight little black dress, looking at Oliver hopefully. How on earth was he meant to say no to that face?
"Well," Oliver hedged. "I would do it, normally. But I pulled my shoulder last week playing golf." He shot Antony a hard look. "Didn't I?"
"Did you?" Antony's face was the picture of innocence. "Ah, yes. But I remember you saying that it was fine after you iced it."
"It's true," Brooks chimed in. "You felt much better."
His bodyguard smiled at him serenely. Oliver imagined lunging across the table and repeatedly smashing his face into the wood.
"Oh, please?" Hattie pouted. "It would save my arse, Ollie."
Oliver took a deep breath. He could feel Alicia watching him with steady dark eyes, and he made the mistake of meeting them. There was hope in her gaze, but a challenge, too. It was the same look she had given him before they ran into the water.
"You'll really go out with me?" he asked.
"I will."
"Alright." He looked at Hattie. "Tell me what to do."
Which was how, twenty minutes later, Oliver found himself standing at the side of the stage, half-concealed by a large fruit bowl filled with oranges. On stage, Hattie turned on the microphone. She called for silence, and the crowd immediately went quiet, looking at the pair of them curiously.
"I'm sorry to announce that Adam Grey has cancelled tonight."
This was met with shouts and cries. Hattie held up a hand, waiting until the calamity died down to speak again.
"However," Hattie continued, "I have another amazing performance to offer you tonight." Her words were slightly slurred. "He's travelled all the way from the south of England to be here with us tonight."
Oliver frowned. Well. That wasn't strictly true, but whatever.
"Time magazine called him one to watch," Hattie crowed.
Okay. That definitely wasn't true.
"And he's even danced in a Rihanna music video."
Nah. That was an outright lie.
Hattie raised an arm. "Give it up for Oliver, The Hip-Hop King!"
He could feel sweat beading his palms. Hattie tottered off the stage, almost drunkenly pitching into a planter. She was wearing a shit-eating grin on her face. Well. At least one of them was happy, Oliver thought sourly. He felt like he was about to throw up.
