Heather's cheeks still held a rosy flush, a lingering reminder of the playful banter with Rhys. What was I thinking? she chided herself, pushing down a flutter of nervous energy. He's just a friend. To distract herself, she reached for her phone, intending to check the time, but her hand met empty air. Her purse was gone.
"If you're looking for this," Rhys said, holding up her purse, the delicate chains draped across his chest like a flamboyant sash, "I believe it belongs to you." He struck a mock-heroic pose, a mischievous grin playing on his lips, the leather of the purse gleaming under the practice room's fluorescent lights.
"Give it to me. You look ridiculous with that." She reached for the purse, but he caught her hand, his fingers warm against her skin.
"Really? I think I look fabulous!" He grinned, stretching the word "fabulous" for dramatic effect, twirling the purse like a prized accessory. "Don't you agree?" He turned to the others, his eyes sparkling with playful challenge.
Jess and the others exchanged amused glances, a silent acknowledgment of the playful tension between Rhys and Heather. They were eager to leave, sensing the shift in the atmosphere, the unspoken energy crackling between them.
"You look… interesting," Jess offered diplomatically, a sly smile playing on his lips.
"Yeah, definitely a new look for you, Rhys," Emmett added, chuckling.
Dave just shook his head, a wide grin spreading across his face. Henry, ever the energetic one, simply gave Rhys a thumbs-up and mouthed, "Go for it!"
Rhys turned back to Heather, his grin widening. "See? Now stop pouting. I'm not going to steal your purse. Let's go home," he added, his smile turning mischievous as he finally released her hand and tossed the purse gently into her waiting arms.
Heather rolled her eyes, a playful smile tugging at the corners of her lips, and walked toward the door, leaving Rhys and the others behind. "Hurry up then," she called over her shoulder.
"You guys go ahead. I'll walk with Heather," Rhys called as he pulled a face mask and a cap out of his bag, his movements swift and practiced. "I'll catch up."
"Okay. Just be careful," Henry said, patting Rhys on the shoulder, a knowing glint in his eyes, before he left with Jess, Emmett, and Dave, their footsteps echoing down the hallway.
Rhys followed Heather out of the training room, catching up to her at the elevator. As he bumped her shoulder playfully, he grinned. "Why didn't you wait for me?"
"Aren't you supposed to go home with the others?" she asked, raising an eyebrow, her voice laced with playful skepticism.
"Nah. And besides, I have your purse," he teased, tapping the side of her bag with a wink.
The elevator doors slid open, and they stepped inside. The close confines of the elevator amplified the tension between them, the air thick with unspoken words. They hit the down button, the silence punctuated by the soft hum of the elevator's descent.
"Are you sure?" Heather asked, her voice laced with a hint of concern. "Wouldn't you get scolded if they find out you didn't go home with the guys?"
"Nah. As long as I don't do anything stupid," Rhys replied with a shrug, leaning against the elevator wall, his eyes fixed on her. "And walking you home definitely doesn't fall under the stupid category."
The elevator doors opened again, and they stepped out. When they were almost at the building's exit, Rhys pulled her to the side, his movements swift and decisive. He placed the cap on her head, pulling it low to obscure her features.
Then, he donned his own mask, transforming into an anonymous figure. With a gentle touch, he wrapped an arm around her shoulders, guiding her towards the exit.
Heather tried to shrug off his arm, a flicker of heat rising in her cheeks, but he wouldn't let go, his grip gentle but firm. As they crossed the street, a flicker of movement caught the journalist's eye.
Rhys, unmistakable even behind the mask, emerged from the building, his arm draped possessively around a woman. Jackpot.
Today must have been his lucky day. Not only had he seen Rhys, but he was also with a mysterious woman. The journalist's curiosity piqued as he watched them walk toward Black Star Café. Rhys's arm was wrapped around her shoulders—could she be his lover? Too bad her cap hid most of her face.
Quickly, the journalist pulled out his camera and snapped a few photos before deciding to wait and follow them when they left.
Inside Black Star Café, Rhys let out a quiet sigh of relief—there were only a few people there. It seemed like they had avoided the crazed fans today. Still, they couldn't stay long.
"Auntie, we'll go home," Heather said to Marjorie, who was carrying baby Dave, her eyes softening at the sight of the sleeping infant.
"Sure. Take my car. I'll go home with your uncle later." Marjorie handed Rhys the keys after he folded the stroller, her eyes lingering on them with a knowing smile. "Drive safe, okay?"
"Thanks, we will." Rhys took the stroller with his left hand and placed his right hand on Heather's lower back as they exited, his touch sending a shiver down her spine.
When they left the café, the journalist was surprised. Now, Heather was carrying a baby while Rhys loaded the stroller into the car. He snapped a few more photos, watching until their car disappeared from view. Smiling to himself, he finally entered the café to buy his wife's coffee and head home with the newsworthy shots.
Inside the garage, Rhys popped the trunk and pulled out the stroller, a practiced ease in his movements. Heather watched him, a soft smile playing on her lips. The tension from before had dissipated, replaced by a comfortable familiarity.
"Are you hungry?" Heather asked as they prepared to go inside, her stomach rumbling audibly.
"We just ate. Are you seriously hungry again? What kind of stomach do you have?" Rhys chuckled, a playful glint in his eyes.
"Ate? That was just an appetizer! Here, hold Dave for a minute. I'm ordering pizza or something," Heather said, handing him the baby, who stirred slightly in his sleep. "Why don't you call the guys too? The more the merrier."
Rhys cradled Dave gently, his expression softening as he looked at the sleeping infant. "Alright, I'll call them," he said, pulling out his phone.
He dialed Jess's number. "Hey, Jess, it's Rhys. Heather's ordering pizza, you guys wanna come over?"
"Pizza? Sounds good! We're just chilling at home, we'll be there in a bit," Jess replied, his voice cheerful.
"Cool, see you soon." Rhys hung up and dialed Dave's number. "Hey, you guys coming?"
"Yeah, yeah, we're on our way," Dave said, his voice a bit muffled. "Henry's just grabbing some drinks."
"Drinks?" Rhys asked, raising an eyebrow. "What kind of drinks?"
"Just some… refreshments," Dave replied evasively. "See you there!"
Rhys shook his head, a knowing smile playing on his lips. "Those guys," he muttered under his breath.
While waiting, Rhys placed baby Dave in the crib, gently tucking him in. The doorbell rang, and he answered it, letting Jess and the guys in. They had a few bottles of beer with them, tucked discreetly into a paper bag.
"Dude, why'd you bring beer?" Rhys asked, raising an eyebrow at Dave, his voice laced with mock disapproval.
"Aren't we going to have a drink?" Henry shot back, grinning mischievously.
"Man, Dave is still underage. And Heather's too young to drink too," Rhys replied, shaking his head, his tone firm.
Dave pouted, not happy about the restriction. The agency was strict about these things, and Rhys was always the responsible one.
When Heather came down the stairs, her eyes lit up at the sight of the beer bottles. "Oooh, are we drinking?" she exclaimed, her voice filled with playful anticipation.
She made a grab for the bottles, but Rhys intercepted her, a stern expression on his face. "Not so fast, young lady!"
Rhys flicked her forehead playfully. "You're underage. So, you'll be sitting with Dave and drinking orange juice or water."
Heather pouted at him. "Oh, come on. Just one bottle. I won't tell Auntie and Uncle. Promise!" She gave him her best puppy eyes, hoping it still worked.
Rhys stared at her blankly. He couldn't believe she was using that tactic again, even though they were older now. But damn, it still worked. He sighed and nodded. "Fine. Just one bottle."
Heather jumped up, clapping her hands and hugging him tightly.
"Yay! Thank you, thank you!"
"Okay, okay, no need to be so excited. It's just one bottle," Rhys chuckled, gently disentangling himself from Heather's enthusiastic hug.
He watched her bounce on the balls of her feet, her eyes sparkling with mischief, and a wave of fondness washed over him. He remembered countless nights like this, filled with laughter and shared secrets, their bond as solid as ever.
Seeing Rhys give in so easily, Dave decided to try his luck. He tugged at Rhys's shirt sleeve, his eyes wide and pleading.
When Rhys looked down at him, Dave gave him his best puppy eyes, a desperate attempt to replicate Heather's success.
"Leader, can I have one bottle too?" he asked, his voice laced with hopeful innocence.
Rhys shook his head, rejecting the request with a smirk. "No," he said firmly, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "You know the rules, Dave. Besides, you're a terrible liar. Heather at least puts on a show."
Dave pouted, his shoulders slumping in defeat. The agency's rules were ironclad, and Rhys, ever the responsible one, wasn't about to bend them. He knew Dave would find a way to sneak a drink later, but for now, he had to play the stern leader of the group.
"Alright, alright, enough with the puppy eyes," Jess interjected, clapping his hands together.
Heather leaned closer to Dave, a mischievous glint in her eyes, a conspiratorial smile playing on her lips. "Don't worry," she whispered, her voice low and conspiratorial. "I'll take care of Rhys. You'll get your beer." She winked at him, a promise hanging in the air.
"Really?" Dave asked, his eyes widening with hope. "How?"
"Just watch and learn," Heather said, a playful grin spreading across her face. "I've got a few tricks up my sleeve."