Something About Us

Heather calmed down after a few minutes, her cheeks still flushed. What was I thinking? she chided herself. Rhys is just a friend. To distract herself, she reached for her phone, but her hand met empty air. Her purse was gone.

"If you're looking for this," Rhys said, holding up her purse, the chains draped across his chest like a sash, "I believe it belongs to you." He struck a mock-heroic pose, a mischievous grin playing on his lips.

"Give it to me. You look ridiculous with that." She reached for the purse, but he caught her hand.

"Really? I think I look fabulous!" He grinned, stretching the word "fabulous" for dramatic effect. "Don't you agree?" He turned to the others.

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.

Rhys turned back to Heather. "See? Now stop pouting. I'm not going to steal your purse. Let's go home," he added, his smile turning mischievous.

Heather rolled her eyes and walked toward the door, leaving Rhys and the others behind.

"You guys go ahead. I'll walk with Heather," Rhys called as he pulled a face mask and a cap out of his bag.

"Okay. Just be careful," Henry said, patting Rhys on the shoulder before he left with Jess, Emmett, and Dave.

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.

"Nah. And besides, I have your purse."

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.

"Are you sure?" Heather asked. "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.

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, but he wouldn't let go. 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.

"Sure. Take my car. I'll go home with your uncle later." Marjorie handed Rhys the keys after he folded the stroller. "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.

When they left the café, the media guy was surprised. Now, Heather was carrying baby Dave 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.

"We just ate. Are you seriously hungry again? What kind of stomach do you have?" Rhys chuckled.

"Ate? That was just an appetizer! Here, hold Dave for a minute. I'm ordering pizza or something," Heather said, handing him the baby. "Why don't you call the guys too? The more the merrier."

Rhys dialed the other members of Lux while Heather went upstairs to change and make a call.

While waiting, Rhys placed baby Dave in the crib. The doorbell rang, and he answered it, letting Jess and the guys in. They had a few bottles of beer with them.

"Dude, why'd you bring beer?" Rhys asked, raising an eyebrow at Dave.

"Aren't we going to have a drink?" Henry shot back.

"Man, Dave is still underage. And Heather's too young to drink too," Rhys replied, shaking his head.

Dave pouted, not happy about the restriction. The agency was strict about these things.

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. "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.

"Yay! Thank you, thank you!"

Rhys smiled, putting his arms around her. "Okay, okay, no need to be so excited. It's just one bottle."

Seeing Rhys give in so easily, Dave decided to try his luck. He tugged at Rhys's shirt sleeve and, when Rhys looked down at him, gave him his best puppy eyes.

"Big bro, can I have one bottle too?"

Rhys shook his head, rejecting the request with a smirk. "No." Then he led the others into the kitchen.

Heather leaned closer to Dave, a mischievous glint in her eyes. "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.