by Tess Keeler
My brother crossed his arms over his chest and looked down on me. “Get him in the shower. Now. You and I will talk later.”
“Yes, we will,” I screeched, before turning to make a dramatic exit.
The door slammed shut and Nixon sat up suddenly, already grasping his head with the hand not holding his torso up. I watched the entire thing, sliding in beside him, cooing, “I’m so sorry.”
“Harper?” he asked, groggily. The glazed look of his eyes made the hole in my chest ache. “You’re really here.”
“I told you I would be,” I tried to smile, but it didn’t form right. “How’s your head?” I asked, reaching for the hand holding it. “Did you sleep enough?”
“I know, but,” he looked away from me, almost lost or disoriented. “I thought maybe I dreamt all of it.”
I frowned at him, realizing that two months was too long for us. It had created problems in both of us, for both of us. “I have a headache. A bad one.”
Leaning forward, I kissed the part of his forehead still visible. “I’ll grab some medicine, and then we can shower together?” I asked, chewing on my lip.
“I’d love that.”
Before I sat back, he pulled me into him, kissing my lips. I released a breath through my nose that I had been holding the entire two months. I felt relief, the weight of the distance and Blake melting away as my arms moved around his neck.
“I know I’ve said it a lot lately, but man, I missed you.” My words were barely a whisper.
He rested his forehead against mine, sighing shakily. I kept my eyes closed as he spoke to me, “I was afraid you were tired of dealing with me and my career.”
“I could never get tired of you.”
With some persuasion, I had Nixon washed off and dressed in time to please both Blake and Sam. It took everything I had not to comfort him in ways only I could. We didn’t have time, but we would later—after all of the lengthy discussions about his repercussions were over. He was swept away from me, so I persuaded Mason to have breakfast with me in the small diner attached to the hotel. Thankfully, we didn’t have to face the crowd already waiting for our famous company. I gave up coffee for the day and enjoyed some hot tea, giving all of my remaining energy to Mace as he explained what happened with Pierson and his new outlook on life. Nixon was a major influence on him, even if he didn’t say it outright. I was glad he had someone to get him through all the behaviors that caused him grief.
“How well do you know the bloke he beat up?” Mason asked, my eyes on his kind brown eyes.
I recalled the unreturned text messages and nights in his first loft. Douglas was brand-new famous when I met him. He served me alcohol and tried to get me to sleep with him. I wasn’t ready, not at sixteen.
“I didn’t know him well, but he took my virginity.”
Mason scoffed, his spoon stirring his tea for no reason at all. “’S a shame I didn’t know. I could’ve delivered a blow or two.”
I gave him a smile, the best I could with how heavy my face felt. I thanked him before asking exactly what he had said. I had never regretted more in my life: Douglas and hurting Nixon. There’s no way he would have stood up to both of us and said something entirely untrue. He was just jealous of my boyfriend—he had to be.
After our meal, I crawled back to Nixon’s room to sleep. Finally. I was pulling back the covers to crawl in when a knock on the door derailed me. I tried not to be irritated; it could be Nixon. What better way to take a nap than with the boyfriend I hadn’t seen in months?
Every muscle in my body felt heavier than normal as I crossed back over to the door, opening it to the face I wanted to see least. The one I wish would go away for a while.
“Can we talk?” Blake asked.
I huffed a little as I opened the door, letting him in. “Shouldn’t you be in the meeting?”
“I’m not needed anymore—I’m here to do my part.”
I sat down on the end of the mattress, staring up at the stern look on my sibling’s face. I just wanted to smack it off. “Your part?” I asked, feeling my shields repairing in preparation.
Blake parted his lips to speak a few different times. Was he actually thinking before he snapped at me about Nixon?
“Do you realize what this fight has done to Nixon overnight? Not only was he involved in underage drinking, he publicly humiliated another well-known celebrity.”
“I didn’t do anything,” I said. “Douglas started it.”
“If you weren’t in the picture, it wouldn’t have happened. He never did this shit when Rosie was around.”
I couldn’t believe that he was trying to convince me that Nixon was better off without me, for his career’s sake. I tried to bite my tongue. I was too tired. “What are you suggesting, Blake?”
“Harper, everything he has worked for is at risk. You’re going to ruin him.”
“How does Nixon feel?” I asked, an emptiness residing in the previously formed hole.
“He’s blinded by his feelings for you.”
The image of Nixon curled up on the floor flashed into my mind. It was the most broken I had ever seen him, bloody-knuckled and exhausted. He was missing me. When I chose my work over the event, he hadn’t handled it well. Obviously. He was usually more composed.
When I didn’t respond, he continued, “Do you remember going to his concerts before you were involved with him? How happy he was to be there every single show? How every crowd was filled with people of all ages, enjoying his energy? That Nixon sells shows. This Nixon won’t.”
“I don’t believe you,” I said, breathlessly, as my heart was ripped from my chest.
Was he a better person without me?
“You don’t have to believe me. If things stay like this, you’ll see it first hand.”
I spent two hours staring at the wall in front of me. My head was pounding and all the food I had eaten for breakfast was sitting heavily in my stomach. It had to be close to noon, which meant I had been up for 30 hours. 30 miserable hours. I couldn’t stop thinking about the evidence supporting Blake’s argument. This wasn’t about me—it was about Nixon. I had to break up with him, to save his life’s work. I had to do it the moment he walked in, or I would find every reason not to.
The click of the door warned me he was entering, and I tensed all over. Do it for Nixon, Harper.
Even though I knew he was exhausted, he still looked at me like I was the only thing that mattered. Instead of smiling, he frowned a little, concern masking his beautiful face. “Why aren’t you sleeping, baby?”
“Nixon…” I wet my lips as my heart skipped around in my chest. I was still sitting on the bed where Blake had left me, now staring up at my unsuspecting boyfriend. “I can’t do this.”
“Can’t do what?” he asked, moving to sit next to me.
“This. Us,” I answered, trying not to bounce my leg too much.
“What do you mean?”
“I’m not good for your career. That makes me not good for you.”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” he scoffed, reaching for the hands in my lap.
I pulled them away from his grasp and stood, staring into his eyes. I meant what I was saying, even if it was killing me. “I’m serious, Nixon. You’re going to lose everything if I stay.”
“Baby, that’s not true in the least,” he said, his voice soft and sweet. Did he not believe that I would follow through with this?
“Look at your face, Nix. Your hands. I did this.” I took a deep, shaky breath. I couldn’t believe I could talk through the shattering of my heart, but I was. “I love you. I will always love you, but staying in your life would be selfish.”
“How is loving me selfish?” he asked, his eyebrows uneven and questioning.
“I’m messing up all that you’ve worked for. You’re thriving, and I’m not about to be the reason you crash and burn.”
Something seemed to shift in his head, and he was starting to look at me with wide eyes. Like he was panicking. “Yo
u can’t be serious?” He was so quiet. “Maybe you should get some rest.”
I was crumbling the longer I stood there. I was in his presence, my favorite presence of all, and I just wanted to continue to be there. I nibbled on my lip and thought about my next words carefully. I didn’t want to hurt him; I just wanted him to let me go. I backed up slowly, grabbing my keys and my phone from the small table. There was no doubt in my mind that he didn’t know I was about to make my escape. He followed my lead by standing, keeping our distance the same.
“You’re better off without me, Nixon. You can change the world. I’m nothing, and I need to stay that way.”
I turned the doorknob and tried not to lose it. He was closing the gap between us, his voice desperate, “Did Blake put you up to this?”
Any pain I felt before couldn’t compare to the pressure I felt in my chest as I watched his hazel eyes fill with so much sadness and anger. “I’m sorry,” I breathed before slipping out of his room. I took off running down the hall, praying that no one would be out there to witness the tears streaming down my face. I could hear him behind me, catching up to me as he called out my name. I stopped in front of the elevators after pressing the button and faced him, the tears falling freely. “This is hard enough, Nixon. Don’t follow me.”
His tears matched mine, and it was the hardest thing to suffer through. “Fine. If that’s what you want. But I love you, Harper.”
The ding of the elevator vibrated through my bones. I fought every instinct in my body as I backed into the opening doors, away from him. Our eyes were locked until the doors closed. I finally fell apart, sinking to the carpeted floor as a crying heap. I never imagined saying goodbye to Nixon, not for good.
1
Make You Mine
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Nixon
Everyone around me was congratulating me, and as excited as I was, it didn’t mean a thing without Harper to share it with. Three Grammy nominations— I had done it. It was almost like the Douglas thing hadn’t even happened, at least, to everyone else.
To me, the gaping hole in my chest was a constant reminder that it had.
Harper left me standing there in the hotel hallway, crying and a fucking mess. Maybe I deserved this. Maybe I couldn’t balance music and love. Who was I kidding?
I pulled my phone out, staring at the screen as my thumb hovered over Harper’s name in my favorites. I wanted to tell her that I had done something I had only dreamt I’d do. That I missed her. And maybe she would take it all back. Maybe.
Mason’s hands were on my shoulders, and I hadn’t even noticed him approach me.
“Nix, mate, you okay?” He was so concerned, and it was all over his face. He glanced down at my phone, and his face fell when he realized where I was stuck. “I know what you’re going through, bruv. I do. But three nominations? That’s fucking huge. Try to snap out of it long enough to show your appreciation to everyone that got you here.”
I took a deep breath after letting his words process. It was true. I needed to be grateful for what my life had just given me. “You’re right.” I glanced at her name one last time before I swiped it to the side, the red delete button appearing. “I’m sure she’ll hear about it eventually.”
I couldn’t delete her number, because then I would be admitting to myself that it was truly over. I couldn’t. Not yet.
Honestly, I wasn’t sure that I ever would get over her. It didn’t feel like I would.
A few days later, I was flying home, my playlists full of the saddest damn songs. I don’t know why I did that to myself. I had spent a day in Nashville getting prepared to record album number four after the holidays. It would be nice to hole myself up into a studio and get lost in one of the only things that were saving me right now— music. At least I’d have material to pull from if nothing else.
Asher and Bella were waiting for me at the airport, and I couldn’t even express how much I needed them both right now.
After I released Bella from a hug, Asher moved in for one.
“You look like shit, Nix. What the hell?”
Bella grabbed my hand as I tugged my bag onto my shoulder trying not to meet either of their eyes.
“Thanks,” I snarled a little, letting out a sigh before I told two of my closest the news. “Harper broke up with me.”
“What?” Bella exclaimed, her big eyes sad and confused. “No way, she’s crazy about you! She would never do that!”
I pulled my lips together, and Asher’s disbelief was painting his expression.
“It’s true, Junie.” My heart was heavy, barely beating as I cringed to myself at the internal pain. I never thought anything could hurt this bad, but fuck was I wrong. “Four days ago.”
“I’m sorry, man.” Asher only got serious like this when it was a really big shift in life. It was almost like they both could feel the pain radiating from my heartless chest. “Bella and I are happy to have you home, though. We’ve missed you tons, huh, Bells?”
She nodded, and I had just noticed the tears slipping down her cheeks. “A bunch. I’m sorry you’re hurting, Bubba.”
I knew they meant well, and I loved them for caring, but I just needed to not think about it for a few minutes. I’d take one minute, at this point.
I think Asher got the hint because he brought up the Grammys as walked through the airport. I was grateful that they changed the subject, it lifted Bella’s spirit, and I couldn’t bear us both being sad about Harper. It was hard enough dealing with it alone.
The fire pit in my backyard was a nice walk from the house. It was definitely one of the benefits of living in Jenks and not directly in Tulsa. Bella had passed out after getting Taco Bell with us, but before she went to bed she got me to promise to take her for a “proper” breakfast. I laughed and agreed.
My parents were already in bed, and even though my mom told me to wake her when I got there, I opted not to. I didn’t need my father pissed off immediately after I got home.
As I got the fire going, Asher rolled a joint and encouraged me to partake. I hadn’t smoked in over a year, even with Mason encouraging me on a regular basis. I didn’t do it on tour. And I refused to do it if there was a chance Bella would even remotely pop up.
“Nix, come on. It’ll help get your mind off all of your drama.”
I had told him about not pressing charges against Douglas, and in return, we both agreed to pay a fairly large fine for fighting. We were lucky. Legally, it could’ve been way worse. It took one of the most important things from me— so really, could I consider it a win?
“Fine,” I agreed, moving to sit on one of the pieces of patio furniture we had out there. It was a nice setup, and I was glad we had somewhere to spend time in the fresh air. Plus, I wasn’t ready to be in my room— memories of Harper clinging to the walls.
It never took much to get me high, because I didn’t do it often enough to have a tolerance. Same with alcohol, as everyone found out a handful of days before.
Moving away from the brick fixture displaying the fire, I moved to the grass and laid down to admire the stars. Asher followed suit, his feet crunching underneath his weight once off the brick pathway. He laid down next to me, the spliff still between his lips. My eyes never left the sky though, the high taking me back to Kansas City and how I stargazed with Harper on our first date. I thought about our first kiss in Nebraska, how I felt like I was flying every time we touched. I closed my eyes, my thoughts spinning in my head as I tried to keep myself in check— but I couldn’t fight what my heart wanted to feel. Tears slipped over my temples as I wondered if she okay, where she was, and if she was thinking of me.
“Asher?” I asked, keeping my eyes squeezed shut.
“Yeah, man?”
I cleared my throat, “Will it ever stop hurting?”
I didn’t look at him, but I knew he had finally noticed the pain slipping from my eyes.
“You really love her, huh?” He wasn’t caught up in all that Harper and I was.<
br />
I blinked the tears away, trying to focus on my best friend for a minute. “I wanted to marry her, Ash. I thought she was my forever.”
Asher didn’t say anything, but in his defense, I don’t know what I’d say to that either.
The silence wasn’t awkward, but it gave me the opportunity to sniff back the remnants of sadness I had put into the atmosphere.
My phone in my black jogger’s pocket rattled, and I pulled it out to see Blake’s name on my screen.
The heat that consumed my face was almost instant, and I clenched my jaw. I had barely spoken to Blake after Harper rushed out, even without her confirmation that he spoke with her. After debating on answering it, I gave in and swiped to answer his call.
“Yes?” I answered, and it took him off guard.
“Hey, buddy,” he started, a nickname he hadn’t called me in a long time. “I wanted to make sure you got home okay.”
I tried not to growl my response. “Yup.”
“Nixon, you can’t give me the cold shoulder forever.” His voice was grating on my nerves because he acted like he cared now. But he didn’t give a shit that my heart was broken into a billion pieces. He didn’t care about my well being or what I wanted when it came to anything other than my career. Something snapped.
“You’re really lucky I’m professional, Blake. Because if I was like you, you wouldn’t have a job right now.”
I hung up on him. I didn’t need his arguments or anything that he could say. I needed space, and he would have to let me decide how long I needed before we spoke again.
Our Christmas tree was up with my help because, of course, my father wouldn’t move away from his video games for long enough to do it. The joy on Bella’s face was worth it, but I hated that she didn’t have a normal life if I wasn’t there. It had been two and a half weeks since Harper had broken my heart— only three days until Christmas. Not wanting to go out, I opted for online shopping and I was thankful for Amazon Prime shipping. I had small gifts sent to my crew and everyone that had some part in my career and success, and I even sent Harper gifts. I battled with myself for a long time before finally hitting submit on the order. A silver music note necklace from Tiffanys, AirPods, and the newest book from her favorite poet— Michael Faudet. I hoped it wasn’t too much, but I was still struggling with not having contact with her. Did that make me pathetic?
