my guts to Mark and Zack has given me a sense of peace in my spirit that I haven’t had since the accident. I want to say it was long overdue, but considering Zack is standing in my kitchen, smiling at me like he wants to ravage me for breakfast, perhaps the timing is absolutely perfect.
“You need to pack,” he says, pulling me from my thoughts - mostly of breakfast…and him.
“How long should I pack for?” It occurs to me that I wasn’t in the room when he made the tickets last night. He’s invited me for Thanksgiving and the FCMA’s on Saturday. Will I only be there for a few days with him? I have nothing to rush home for since I still haven’t scheduled any new photography appointments.
“Forever?” He sounds teasingly hopeful.
My breath catches at the thought. Move to L.A. forever? He has to be joking. Surely he’s joking, right?
“When is my return flight scheduled?” He says nothing.
“Zack?” I ask him again. Surely he’s scheduled me to return at some point.
He shrugs unashamedly with a cocky grin on his face. “It’s a one-way ticket.”
I don’t know what to say to this, because I still can’t believe he would think moving to L.A. is the right thing to do right now. It’s too soon, obviously. We’ve just been back in the same state for less than twenty-four hours. I’m not sure what to do with this information. “I’ll just pack a bunch of stuff and we can figure it out when I get there. Okay?”
He makes a face. “Fine.”
Chapter Fifteen
I’m bouncing between excitement and nervousness as we wind our way through the streets of Santa Monica on our way to Zack’s house. The ocean smacks the cliffs below us as we travel along the coast. It’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. I’m instantly thrilled I remembered to throw in a swimsuit. I’m sure the water is freezing, but I’ve never been to the Pacific Ocean, and the air is warm. It makes me want to throw on my swimsuit and splash in the ocean just to say I did it once.
Darren stops at a pair of metal gates and punches in a code. The gates slowly open and I look at Zack. One of his hands holds mine on his lap. He looks relaxed. I am anything but relaxed right now.
My mouth drops when we finally pull up the winding driveway.
“This is your house?” This is not a house. It’s a sprawling museum, or mansion, or one story hotel. I can’t describe the monstrous southwestern-style building in front of me; but house, would not be the word I would ever think to use to describe it. That word is too simple, too small to explain what I’m seeing. I see what looks like a six…SIX car garage to the left. And the entire house curves into a moon shape. I didn’t even know they could make houses that curve in such a way. I’m mesmerized by the brick walk that I’m guessing goes towards the front door but I can’t see it past all the beautiful and luscious landscaping. Vibrant colored plants and flowers form one of the most beautiful gardens I’ve ever seen.
“Yep.” It’s such a simple answer. I’m dumbfounded, completely flabbergasted that I actually know someone who lives in a house like this. I know its Zack. I know he’s a rock star and has, I guess, more millions than most people can ever dream of seeing in a lifetime; but still. This is just too much. I feel the same sense I had when I saw his bus. And that was a tour bus! But it’s so overwhelming when I’m forced to face how completely different our lives are. “I bought it for me and the band. All the bedrooms have their own suites and living areas; Garrett and Chase stay here all the time when we’re recording in L.A.”
All the rooms? I don’t even want to know how many rooms there are. From the looks of things, a lot more than I have ever seen in a house. My eyes widen even larger. I didn’t even know my eyes could get as large as they are right now.
Zack smiles and squeezes my hand. “It’s just a house, Nic. Take a deep breath.”
I laugh while I breathe and end up snorting unattractively. Zack laughs at me and some of the tension I feel slips away. It’s just a house. That’s the most laughable statement