Shaking my head to try and jog my brain back into working, I started, “I was—”
“Ms. Stauch? The tech crew is ready for you,” said a woman with short, frizzy hair and a gap between her two front teeth. “We need to get you over there to get your microphone on.”
“Right,” I said in a daze, dumbstruck by my own awful timing.
I took two steps toward the tech crew set up, then turned to ask, “Can we talk later?”
“Over here, Warren,” I heard Casey call, patting his chair. “You’re up, man. Let’s tame that wild hair of yours.”
Warren took off his hat and stroked a hand over his hair, his expression hardening. “Yeah, sure. Later.”
His words were quiet but sliced through me like a dagger. I nodded, the only way I could communicate my appreciation for his acceptance. Watching the world through blurry vision, I blinked back the tears while I tried to mentally regroup. Though I still had a shot to speak to Warren, I felt like I was floating around in a hollow body. I just had to make it through my concert set and somehow fake a happiness for the audience that wasn’t really there, then I could try again. Warren would at least hear the words I had to say, whether or not he would actually accept them.
Once the microphones and earpieces were all checked and found to be in working order, I was sent to the edge of the stage, where I could see Tad performing his contribution to the program. The crowd was eating him up. It was hard not to enjoy his dynamic personality and incredible musical prowess. He looked like he could’ve been born with an electric guitar in his hand, and the enticing lyrics he crooned made every woman in the place swoon for him.
Vanessa walked up to me, looking fabulous in the same gold gown she’d worn when she won America’s Next Pop Star. It wrapped around her figure and accentuated all her beautiful Colombian curves.
I spoke first so I could put off her inevitable questioning, if only for a few minutes. “Don’t you look fancy?”
“I thought it might be a nice touch, seeing as we’ve finally been blessed with air conditioning,” she said, running her hands down the shimmering fabric. “I’m going to have my lawyer put a stipulation in my contract that I’ll only perform in venues with air conditioning from now on.”
I shook my head and smiled at her. “You’re turning into a real diva. You know that, right?”
She inspected her nails carefully and answered, “People have come to love and expect that about me. It kind of comes with the territory.”
“If you say so.”
Tad rocked his finish, and the audience went wild, everyone trying to touch his legs as he walked back the length of the catwalk and disappeared offstage right as Becky came on.
“Well? Did you talk to him?”
There was that inevitable question. Shaking my head, I bit back the tears that were swimming right at the edge of my eyelashes.
“No. Well, technically yes. I told him everything I had to say, but he didn’t hear me.”
“He’s mad at you?” Vanessa asked in disbelief. “What did you say?”
“No, he literally didn’t hear me. I tried talking to him, but he had some earphones in, and while I was busy baring my whole soul, he was listening to music and dozing off.”
Tenderly, Vanessa pulled me into a hug and patted my back. “It’s alright. You’ll get another chance.”
I puffed air through my lips and sniffed my runny nose. “I know. I was just hoping to go on stage with all of this behind me, not still looming over my head.”
The same tech crew girl found Vanessa and called her over. Before she left, Vanessa said, “Chin up, girl. It’ll work out. I’m sure of it.”
“I hope you’re right.”
She left, and I focused my attention on Becky. When she was done, I had to breeze onto the stage and give people the performance they wanted. I couldn’t think of Warren or how I might’ve totally blown it. Once I was off the stage, I could crumble and mope all I wanted on the long trip back to New York City.
“Scoot over, featherweight.”
Warren walked up to me and playfully bumped me from where I was standing so he could see Becky, too.
“Hey,” I teased softly. “This is my vantage point.”
“Good thing my mama taught me to share.”
He wrapped an arm around my waist and scooted me closer to him, making a burst of adrenaline buzz through me. I didn’t know what’d caused the change, but I took courage, seeing the grin on his lips again.
“Vanessa tells me you have something to say,” Warren said matter-of-factly.
“Vanessa’s been talking to you, huh? Or is meddling more the correct term?”
“You know her. Can’t help herself.”
I chuckled lightly and agreed. “No, she really can’t.”
A pause briefly interrupted before Warren nudged me along. “I’m really sorry I missed what you said earlier. I’ve heard from more than one person that what you said was very touching.”
I groaned and dropped my head. “That is the most humiliating thing I think I’ve ever done.”
“Why? You should never be ashamed for other people to hear what you think about someone you love.”
I looked up into Warren’s eyes and was captured by the tenderness in his gaze, even while feeling scared. “I thought you hadn’t heard me.”
He chuckled. “I had several play-by-play recaps.”
Knowing he’d already heard it from every other nosy employee and singer backstage, I blurted out everything I’d already told him, assured it couldn’t go any worse than it had the first two times. Warren listened patiently, and when I was done, I was out of breath, and my heart was in my nose.
Resting his hands on my shoulders, he turned me toward him and pulled me into a hug. Talking into my hair, his warm breath sent delicious shivers down my spine. I slipped my arms around his waist and closed my eyes, barely hoping to believe he was willing to give me another try.
“I can’t tell you how happy hearing all that makes me feel. After last night, even when you were hopped up on allergy meds, and you were still insisting we weren’t meant for each other, it truly felt like I’d lost you. What changed?”
Muttering into his chest, I said, “I talked to Stella. She straightened me right out.”
Another rumble of laugher came out of Warren, and I tipped my head back, fully prepared to invite Warren to give me that kiss I’d stopped him from giving weeks earlier at practice. “Well, bless your little sister for helping you see the light. Eloise, I know we’re not perfect and that there’s so much we have to learn—”
“Eloise!” Mandy shouted at me as she rushed over. “You’re on. Now!”
She peeled me out of Warren’s arms, though I clung to Warren as long as I could, our eyes still secured on one another. There was so much I still wanted to say, but that brief exchange I had with Warren bolstered my spirits. He winked at me and smiled fully as he watched me go.
“See you out there,” he called.
Mandy shoved me from behind the curtains, and I stumbled a few steps before I recovered and went on to give my best performance yet. There was meaning behind the love songs I sang, and I danced like Warren was twirling me around the stage. The cherry on top was spotting Stella and Robby, jumping up and down from their front row seats, screaming as wildly as anyone while they watched me perform.
When it was time for our duet, my heart pounded rapidly, and I wanted to run and jump into Warren’s arms, right there for the whole world to see. Sitting down next to him on the bench, I returned the smile he bestowed on me.
“What I was going to stay before Mandy so rudely interrupted was that I know we’ve got a lot to learn about each other, but we have time. There’s no rush to learn every last thing about each other, is there?”
I shook my head. “No, I don’t suppose there is.”
“You know, my gramps and gran have been married over fifty years, and Gran just discovered that Gramps can’t whistle? You’d think t
hat would’ve come up in conversation sometime within those five decades together.”
I laughed, holding myself on the bench so I didn’t tip off backward. “Yeah, you’d think.”
“What I’m trying to say is that you, Eloise Stauch, are the embodiment of all I want in a woman. I know you’re way out of my league, but I’ll worship the ground you walk on and will do everything in my power to keep your heart safe and happy. I’m in love with every bit of you, even that stubborn streak that runs through your blood. You’re a talented, passionate, contradictory woman I can’t wait to learn more about.”
All I could do was shake my head and laugh as I felt another burst of joy surge through me. Warren laughed too, and my eyes slipped down to his mouth.
“What are you looking at my lips for?” he teased, his eyebrow arching suggestively.
“Well, I think I’d like to take back what I said before and ask you for that kiss, though now doesn’t seem like the most opportune time. I suppose people are expecting us to sing for them.”
“Now seems like as good a time as any.”
Slipping his hand behind my neck, his thumb landing right over my racing pulse, he pulled me in for a kiss that was slow and deep and so achingly passionate that I couldn’t catch my breath. As that luscious kiss heated me to the very core, the spectators became rabid, and I could feel the wave of cheering vibrate through me. Pulling back, I rested my forehead on his and just smiled.
Warren nuzzled against my neck and whispered into my ear. “If a kiss like that doesn’t prove we’re meant to be, I don’t know what would.”
Chapter Twenty-Three
“Favorite color?” I questioned.
“I’m surprised you don’t already know that.”
I turned to Warren and smacked him on the stomach, inducing a moan from him. I teased, “Oh, don’t pretend like I’m capable of hurting you.”
“You’re a featherweight for sure, but you pack a punch, especially when I’m not looking.”
“Whatever. You have abs of steel.”
A laugh rippled through Warren. “Remember when you called me your brown-eyed Superman?”
Shutting my eyes, I muffled my own groan. “I’m not sure I want to remember that evening. I threw away all that medicine so I never risk repeating it.”
“I dunno. It was quite the entertaining spectacle, I must say. It’s cute how giggly you are when you’re drunk.”
“I wasn’t drunk. I was heavily medicated,” I said, poking him in the side. “There’s a world of difference, and if you go around saying that to people like my mom, she’s going to knock you back down to the bottom of her list of least favorite individuals.”
“Doubtful. She loves me after I rescued you from the grips of the L.A. nightlife.”
I rolled over on the hood of Warren’s truck and draped my arm over his middle, pulling myself in close to his warmth. His truck didn’t look all that different than the one he’d borrowed in Colorado, which explained his affinity for rusty old vehicles that sputtered and squealed.
Our concert tour had finished, and we were enjoying a brief break from stardom before we took the next plunge in our music career. When we both were offered contracts with Harper Music, Mandy suggested we be marketed as a duo. Fans had made it abundantly clear that they loved the idea of Warren and me together, so Mr. Drake was more than happy to oblige, especially if it meant lining the pockets of his record label.
“Saw one,” Warren said, pointing up at the night sky.
After a day in the recording studio, Warren told me he had a surprise road trip for our Friday night date. The first hour and a half was navigating our way out of New York City traffic, then we hit the open road until we found ourselves under the big night sky, staring at the pinpricks of light shining through the darkness. Having a rare moment alone was the best treasure of all.
“You did not. You’re just trying to win our little competition.”
“Hey, I can’t help it if you’re not paying attention to the shooting stars. What’s that? Six for me, three for you? You’re going to owe me a banana split when all is said and done.”
I gagged theatrically. “I’m not spending my hard-earned money on something as disgusting as a banana split. Fruit and ice cream? Gag me. Besides, you’ve been distracting me with your rugged good looks and an extra spritz of cologne. Don’t think I don’t smell it on you.”
“I’ve never heard you complain before.”
“Not complaining,” I clarified. “Just pointing out that I noticed you’re playing dirty.”
“By smelling nice?”
“Exactly. And don’t think I haven’t noticed you never answered my question. I don’t want to play the guessing game again to find out.”
“You didn’t enjoy trying to decipher my kindergarten teacher’s name?”
“No,” I said flatly. “That took forty-five minutes to find out her name was Miss Kemper. So, favorite color?”
Warren propped himself up on his elbow and gazed down at me, pushing my hair off my face. “The color of your eyes is my favorite.”
“So, blue?”
“Blue doesn’t quite describe it. Your eyes are the shade of freshly bloomed cornflowers. Or the sky after a surprise spring rain blows over. There’s a depth in your eyes that simply calling them blue doesn’t cover.”
I realized I was holding my breath, and it came out with a whoosh. “Ok, that was pretty suave. I was going to say a rosy pink was my favorite, but you win.”
“Good thing we’re not competing for points on getting to know each other. I want to know for the sake of knowing.” Warren kissed the top of my head as I rested my head on his arm.
“Middle name?” I asked.
Warren chuckled. “Sure you want to know?”
“It’s something horrible, isn’t it? Are you Warren Alastair? Warren Theodore?”
“You’re not even close to the level of awful my folks bestowed upon me.”
When Warren didn’t answer, I prodded, “So?”
“Norval. Warren Norval Jackson.”
“It’s not so bad,” I said as a crackle of laughter rose out of my throat.
“Say what you will, but I’m under no delusion that my name is anything but awful. I’m told it’s a family name, though no one seems to remember anything about any Norvals in the family. I think my parents did it to keep me humble. Or because they thought it’d be funny when they had to use my full name when I got in trouble. I swear, even my own mama can’t say it without laughing.”
“That’s awesome,” I said through an ab-clenching laugh.
“What’s yours?”
“Michelle. Nothing special, really.”
“Eloise Michelle Stauch,” Warren said, letting my name roll off his tongue. I liked the way it sounded when he said it. “It’s no Norval, but I think it sounds elegant, if I do say so myself.”
“You may say so,” I murmured, smiling from his compliment.
For a long while, we didn’t speak, though there was plenty communicated in the still silence under the stars. Warren shifted, and I moved my head to his chest, the steady pace of his heartbeat made my insides turn to mush. How did a spastic, silly girl like me wind up with someone so amazing? It was a mystery I wasn’t sure I’d ever be able to solve.
Warren sighed contently, and I sat up so I could see him. “Seems like whenever we’re out stargazing, I forget to talk. It’s almost like speaking is interrupting something out here.”
Nodding, Warren seemed to follow my logic. “It doesn’t matter anyway. Grams always says only those who truly love you can hear you when you’re quiet. It’s a good exercise in listening, and I feel like I’m getting to know you all the same.”
I traced the ridge of his knuckles with my thumb and asked, “You think we’ll be ready to tour with Tad? There’s so much that needs to be done before his show starts. Wardrobe fittings, choreography, a couple of new songs.”
Sitting up next to me, Warren draped his a
rm across my back. “What are you worried about? You remember I’ll be right there next to you, don’t you?”
Tipping my head over to rest on his shoulder, I said, “Just the way I like it.”
“You know,” Warren said impishly, “we could end every concert with a kiss. The crowd in L.A. seemed to appreciate it.”
I laughed, nudging him with all my weight but barely making him move. “You’re incorrigible, you know that?”
“But isn’t that one of the things you love about me?” Warren gave me a dazzling smile, to which I shook my head. “Speaking of, I forgot I have something I wanted to show you. Saw it on my way in to work this morning.”
Warren jumped off the hood of his truck and retrieved something he had stashed behind the driver’s seat. When he jumped back on, he flipped on his phone’s flashlight, shining it on a glossy celebrity magazine.
“Look, we’re right there on the front,” he said, pointing to the bottom right corner.
Sure enough, there was a small photo of our epic California kiss and a page number underneath.
“My mom would die if she knew her daughter was in one of those magazines,” I said.
“Well, my mama loves them. My dad says we probably could’ve bought a vacation home with all the money she’s spent on them over the years.”
Flipping the pages, Warren found our story—an entire page devoted to the progression of our relationship, or at least how the media painted it to be.
Clearing his throat, Warren started reading: From day one, America fell in love with shy, reserved Eloise, and Warren Jackson, the man from the backwoods of Alabama who’s smooth singing was a siren call to every woman who listened. When they were spotted dating during filming of America’s Next Pop Star, the entire country held its breath to see what would come from the potential powerhouse couple. Sadly, their relationship seemed to get off to a rocky start, crumbling soon after Warren was booted from the show.
Written in the Stars Page 21
