Homecoming Queen: A Second Chance Romance (Carlisle Cellars Book 2)

by Fabiola Francisco

  When I don’t respond, he continues to speak. “I know Madison is special to you, but you can’t interfere in her life. She must have her reasons for coming back to town. And don’t give in to everything they say about her on the news.” He gives me a knowing look.

  “I know we can’t believe everything about celebrities, but something’s not right if she’s here instead of doing ‘er job.” My dad’s strong hand lands on my shoulder, stopping me.

  “Tate,” he shakes his head. “You gotta let her do her thing. I know her being back must be hard for you, even after all these years, but she needs her space.”

  I nod, swallowing thickly. I was always the person there for her, and now I’m a stranger in her life that relives what we had through faded memories and a hopeless heart. Losing her made me cynical. I vowed never to fall in love again, and I kept that promise to myself. Except I think I never stopped loving the one woman I always wanted.

  “If she needs you, she’ll come to you.”

  I nod again at my dad’s words but remain silent. I know there’s truth in his advice. I’ve just never been good with patience.

  After I finish helping my dad put things away, I say goodbye to my momma and turn down her offer for lunch. I want to go home and crash. Exhaustion hits so hard I don’t even shower. I head straight for my bed, stripping out of my clothes and getting under the covers.

  Hours later, I’m startled awake by my deafening ringtone. I curse myself for not putting it on silent before going to sleep. Reaching out blindly, I push it off my nightstand to the floor.

  “Fuck,” I growl and sit up, blinking my eyes open. It stops ringing, and I debate leaving it on the floor and going back to sleep. I could probably sleep until tomorrow. Before I can make a decision, my phone rings again. I bend down to grab it and answer.

  “Hello?” I snap.

  “Damn, sunshine, you sure are nice,” Rafael says on the other line.

  “What the fuck do you want? I was sleeping.”

  “No shit…” he chuckles. Then I hear commotion in the background, and his voice turns serious. “Listen, have you heard anything recently?”

  “About what? I’m not in the mood for vague conversations.”

  “About Madison,” he whispers.

  Suddenly, I’m on high alert. “No, what happened?” I stand quickly, almost landing on my ass. I steady myself as I look around my room. Ignoring the clothes on the floor, I yank open a drawer and grab a pair of sweatpants.

  “Shit,” Rafael sighs. “Look, I don’t have time to tell you right now, but she’s here at Last Call…drunk out of her mind, singing on the bar and yelling shit I’m sure she’ll regret in the morning.”

  “I’m on my way.” I hang up and throw on a t-shirt on the way out of my house. I don’t have time to question why Rafael called me instead of Miles, but I’m glad he did. Tension rolls through me. Where the fuck is her bodyguard? I’m sure it’s his job to avoid situations like this.

  I drive to Last Call, blood angrily pumping through my veins. Although I can easily walk there, Madison will probably be better off in my truck than walking. I double park in front of the bar and leave my truck running as I hop out and jog inside. I stop in my tracks when I see her, on a stool now, holding an empty glass up and swaying dangerously. I scrub my face and shake my head. Rafael looks at me and shrugs. Did no one try to get her down? Jesus.

  “Y’all think…” Hiccup. “’t’s so eeeaassyyyy bein’ famous,” she slurs.

  I act immediately, walking up to her and taking a deep breath as I bite down hard, locking my jaw.

  “Tate!” She sways, and I reach out, but she steadies herself. “Aw, the guy who broke my heart.” She laughs.

  “Come on, Coyote Ugly.” I wrap my arms around her thighs and bring her over my shoulder without a second thought. She screams and drops her glass. I look at the bartender and promise to cover her tab and the broken glass tomorrow. She nods and frowns.

  “How much did she have to drink?” I ask as I begin walking away.

  “Six.”

  I grimace and take Madison out of the bar and away from small-town gossip, all the while she slaps my back.

  This is gonna hurt tomorrow. Honestly, I’m lucky she didn’t throw up on me when I grabbed her. Once I’m at my truck, I carefully bring her to her feet. Before I can get her in the passenger side, she smiles, her eyes glazed over, and cups my face with a hand. I close my eyes briefly, having her this close.

  “You always were good to me,” she smiles and sways.

  “Okay, in you go.” I buckle her up and run around to the driver’s side, taking her to my place. I shoot Miles a quick text, letting him know what’s going on, so none of them worry, and then shut off my phone. It’s going to be a very long night.

  ***

  I read through the same article for the fifth time. I’ve spent a better part of the night awake and reading everything I could find about Madison, hoping I get some insight into what’s going on in her life.

  She fell asleep on the way to my place, so I laid her on my bed and took my ass out to the couch despite being tempted to lie down next to her.

  I don’t like what I find online, and I question what I can believe and what’s bullshit. I hope that this last article is bullshit, but there’s a stirring inside of me that makes me feel like it might be true.

  Closing my eyes, I toss my head back onto the couch and cover my face. God, I hope that’s one of the lies. The thought of her being in a position where someone hurt her pisses me the fuck off. I wanna kill the motherfucker for touching her. Anger boils and kicks my heart rate. I need to talk to her as soon as she wakes up.

  Knowing Madison will probably have a killer hangover, I set ibuprofen on the counter and make some coffee. I sure as hell am not getting any more sleep today, so I definitely need caffeine. As the machine gurgles, I look for other recent articles about Madison. Most are speculation from a source, whoever that source is, since I highly doubt Madison would spill this. It does explain her behavior last night.

  I tremble with anger, hands shaking as I grab the carafe once the coffee’s done brewing.

  After preparing my cup, I sit on the couch and inhale the nutty aroma swirling from my mug. I place my free hand on my bouncing knee to stop it. I need to get my emotions under control and wait until I can hear her side of the story before I lose my shit. As much as I’d like to wake her up, I’m going to let her sleep off her hangover.

  Knowing she’s in my bedroom, sleeping on my bed…it does things to me. It stirs awake every feeling I’ve tried to suppress through the years. It awakens my need for her in my life. Living without Madison has been a nightmare, knowing she was always just within reach but not mine anymore, watching her grow as an artist, singing songs about love, and wondering if she thought about me.

  Soft steps draw my attention behind me. I turn to see a messy-haired Madison scrubbing her eyes. I didn’t miss the fact that her hair’s back to the strawberry color I love when I saw her yesterday.

  “Mornin’, sunshine.”

  She flinches and stops walking. “What…” She shakes her head, clearing her throat.

  “How about a cup of coffee and some ibuprofen before you start asking questions?” I stand from the couch.

  “How bad is it?” she whispers, and I know she’s talking about the impression she left last night.

  Easing the moment, I joke, “Pretty sure people at church are starting a prayer group for you.”

  She laughs quietly and grimaces, rubbing her temples. “You still use the same cologne,” she says, following me into the kitchen. That comment makes me freeze. I look at her, disheveled, swollen eyes and lips, clothes all wrinkled. I hand her a glass of water and two pills.

  “Do you have to get to work? I should get going.” She looks around my house awkwardly, twisting her fingers. I give her a mug and let her fix her coffee the way she likes it.

  “I’m off today.” I pat the seat next to me as I drop
on the couch. “I think we need to have a talk.”

  Madison eyes me from the kitchen. “I don’t wanna.”

  “Then I’ll just believe what they’re saying is true.”

  Her eyes widen, and her body slumps. She takes slow steps to the couch and sits with enough space for another person between us. Her head is bowed, her hair covering her face.

  “Maddy…” I wait for her to look at me, but she doesn’t. “Look at me.” She shakes her head. “I like the red…” This grants me my wish, and I smile softly at her. “What’s going on?” I keep my voice gentle, not wanting to scare her off. Right now, she’s like a scared horse, untrusting and hurt.

  Her green eyes are dull, and she worries her bottom lip. She still doesn’t say anything. I scoot closer, holding my mug, so I don’t reach out and touch her. “You gotta stop running.”

  “You can’t escape the ghosts I’m running from.” She says this so quietly I almost don’t hear it.

  “Maddy, I’m worried.”

  She shakes her head and releases a deep sigh. “I told you it’s not for you to get involved.”

  “Too bad…I’m already involved.” I lean back, crossing my ankle over my knee.

  “Tate, I mean it.” Her eyes stare into mine.

  Placing my mug on the coffee table, I say fuck it and grab her hand. “Is it true?”

  She doesn’t need to respond. The way her eyes fill with tears is telling. She looks away and slips her hand from mine to wipe her face. I reach for her chin and turn her to look at me. I brush her tears away with my thumb, feeling her soft skin as if it were a dream and she’ll be ripped away from me at any moment.

  When I cup her cheek, she leans into my touch. Unable to hold back, I pull her to me and hug her. Madison begins to cry into my shoulder, gripping the back of my t-shirt.

  “I’m so sorry…so sorry,” she mumbles.

  “Shhh…” I run a hand up and down her back as her body shakes with sobs. I tamp down my anger and focus on her. I hold her for as long as she needs, her crying and me whispering that she’s safe now.

  When she leans back to look at me, with red-rimmed eyes and a blotchy face, her words surprise me. “You think it’s this fabulous life. Nothing’s been right since I left you.”

  Chapter 13

  Madison

  Tate looks at me with equal parts confusion and pity. I hate the pity.

  I didn’t mean to say what I did. It just came out. I realize how true those words are, though. Ever since we broke up, I’ve been searching for the same happiness he brought into my life. I love singing and performing, but that was a different kind of feeling. It never felt as satisfying as being with him.

  “I…” He shakes his head.

  I wipe my face and put some distance between us. “Sorry, I…don’t know why I said that.” I turn away from him, grabbing my cold coffee and drinking it, anything to fill this awkward moment.

  “Madison, tell me what happened. If I keep speculating about what I read on the internet, I’m going to lose my damn mind.” He reaches for my hand, and it’s as if my body has sparked to life. The dullness that’s been flowing through me is replaced with a burning flame.

  As much as I’ve imagined it, my memory of Tate’s touch and its effect on me were bleak in comparison to how he makes me feel. Even after all these years.

  “I’m scared,” I barely hear my own voice, but he does.

  “Not with me.”

  “Why do you even care?”

  “Come on.” He tilts his head. His icy blue eyes stare into mine, causing me to shiver. “I’m always gonna care.”

  My heart cracks. Of course he will because of what we had, but we’ll never have that again. We’ll never be the couple we were, and it’s my fault. It’s my fault that I lost him, left him behind to think I didn’t love him enough.

  I smile sadly. “You don’t have to care now because you know something went wrong. I don’t want that. You have a right to be angry and not feel like you need to step up and protect me like you used to.”

  “You’re deflecting.” His voice is flat.

  “No, what I’m saying is true. You hate me, Tate, so don’t feel pity for me now.” I rather he treats me like he did when he first saw me than suddenly change because of what he’s learned about me.

  “I don’t hate you, Madison. I’m angry and hurt, yes. You just left. You didn’t give me a choice, didn’t ask if I wanted to go with you. You made that decision for the both of us when you packed up and headed to Nashville without me.”

  I begin pacing, hands in the air. “Because I thought I was saving you from having to make it. You didn’t want to leave our town, but you would’ve for me. I didn’t want you to resent me for having to live somewhere you were unhappy when I wasn’t sure how chaotic my life would be. If I weren’t there because I was working long hours or traveling, you’d be left alone. You’d hate me even more than me leaving, maybe even find comfort in someone else. I couldn’t bear that.” I shake my head, a fresh wave of tears hitting me for different reasons.

  “There was no one else.” His voice rises as he stands as well.

  “How do you know?” I drop my arms and turn to look at him. “There’s no way of knowing that.”

  “Because it’s been seven damn years, and no one’s been able to replace you,” he yells.

  I stare at him blankly, processing. This hangover’s got nothing on my real life.

  “Talk to me, Maddy,” he adds when I remain silent. His hands hold my arms, and he bends his head to look into my eyes.

  “Just tell me what’s going on. Consider it your payment for leaving.”

  I can’t help myself. I wrap my arms around his waist and bury my face in his chest, holding on for dear life. If this is the only chance I’ll get to have him like this, then I’ll take what I can get.

  “Come on.” He brushes my hair away, tugging my head back so he can look at my face. I finally nod, searching for courage where I have none left.

  I sit on the couch, Tate beside me, and swallow hard. The words tremble as I tell him what happened, what’s true, and what isn’t from the damn article I saw online. Someone leaked the story, and my money’s on the label to cover their asses. They’re turning it around, saying I’m accusing them of harassment so I can get attention, that in reality, I set up the producer.

  Tate’s jaw ticks with each word I say, his eyes hard and full of fury. I watch as his fists open and close as I get to the hardest part—how the man touched me in places no one should without permission. He growls but remains seated.

  “I got lucky that someone interrupted us. I can’t imagine what would’ve happened if not.” My shoulders curl inward, my body shivering at the memory. I bring my knees up on the couch and hug them. I feel dirty every time I think about it. I want to scrub it off my body, but even the strongest loofah wouldn’t be enough to wash this away.

  “Lucky? If you call that luck, Maddy, then you…” he takes a deep breath. “You’ve got the wrong idea about luck.”

  “It could’ve been worse.”

  He nods. “But don’t let that be an excuse for what he did. Just because he didn’t rape you doesn’t mean he didn’t molest you. Damn it,” he slaps the coffee table.

  “Tate, you can’t tell anyone, please,” I beg.

  “What’s his name?” He ignores my petition.

  “I can’t tell you,” I press my lips together.

  “The hell you can’t.”

  “I’ve been instructed by my lawyer not to say his name. That way, if they spill who it was, it’ll be obvious that they’re controlling the situation.”

  “Fine, then I’ll kill every single one of them.” He jumps to his feet.

  “Where are you going?” I look up at him with furrowed brows.

  “I have two days off. I’m going to Nashville.” He seethes.

  Whoa. I leap from the couch and run behind him. “No.” Tate ignores me. “I’m serious. You can’t just show up there.
Besides, it’s not like it’s a short drive away. Tate, let us handle this.”

  He says nothing, keeping his back to me on the way to his bedroom.

  “I’m serious.” My heart races as I become agitated.

  When he continues to ignore me, I jump on his back, and he stumbles.

  “What the…”

  “You’re not going anywhere. I won’t get down until you promise not to.” His body is shaking. “I’m serious.”

  “Maddy, do you think me giving you a piggy-back ride is gonna stop me?” He’s laughing at me.

  “I don’t know…” I slide off his back because it is ridiculous.

  When Tate turns around, laughter lines frame his eyes, and some of the anger has seeped off him. His smile is guarded, but it’s there.

  He steps closer but doesn’t touch me. “I want to kill him.”

  “Get in line behind my father and brothers.”

  Tate sits on the edge of the bed, his head in his hands. I watch him a moment, unsure of what to do. I finally take a seat beside him, staying as still as possible.

  “Where was your bodyguard yesterday?” He doesn’t lift his head.

  “I wanted to be alone. I wanted to be a normal girl who went out for drinks—”

  “And got drunk and danced on bars?” He lifts his gaze to mine now.

  “Not my finest moment.” I purse my lips.

  “No, but it makes sense now.”

  “Thank you for getting me out of there when you did.” I have no idea how much worse it would’ve gotten had I not left when I did.

  “You’re welcome. Although, I can’t say I got there fast enough. When Rafael called me, I didn’t expect it to be that bad.” I grimace as he speaks.

  “I’m gonna have to hide out in my parents’ house for more than one reason.” I shake my head, throwing myself back on his bed. It smells like him, comfort and spice wrapped up in one.

  Tate falls back beside me, both of us staring at the ceiling. My hands clasp over my ribs as exhaustion takes over. Tate says something, but I can’t make it out as I’m pulled into sleep.