Double Exposition (Songs and Sonatas Book 1)

by Jerica MacMillan

  I shift my backpack again. “Oh yeah? Like who?”

  “Like all the reporters that keep calling me.”

  My shoulders hunch. “What?”

  She rolls her eyes. “Please. I didn’t talk to them. You know I don’t answer numbers I don’t recognize. But he is, isn’t he?” Her eyes bore into mine, and I look away.

  “He’s what?”

  “Oh my God, he’s going to record a new album. He is.” Her voice is rising, and she grips my arms. “Oh my God, Gabby!”

  “Shh!” I look around. Jesse’s the only one standing nearby, his posture the same as before, but professors and students walk past the end of the hall beyond him. None of them appear to have heard us, but I don’t need rumors getting out. Especially when I don’t even know for sure if that’s true.

  “Gabby, you have to tell me.” Her voice has gone back to that restrained whisper, which is better than her near-shriek from a second ago.

  I shake my head. “I don’t know. He’s thinking about what to do next. He hasn’t decided anything yet as far as I know.”

  Lauren bounces up and down on her toes, her hands still gripping my arms. “Oh my God!” she whisper-screams. Her voice is so high-pitched and breathy that any dogs in hearing distance would be yelping.

  Pulling my arms out of her grip, I point a finger in her face. “Not a word, Lauren. To anyone. Especially not to any reporters. Nothing’s been decided.”

  She nods, zipping her lips and flicking away the key.

  “Okay. Good. But don’t do that thing where you pretend you can’t talk.”

  A wide grin splits her face, and she hugs me hard. “This is so cool, though. You’ll be dating a famous guy. You’ll get backstage passes and get to go to celebrity parties in like Hollywood and New York and stuff.” She levels her eyes at me again, her face going serious. “Promise me you won’t forget me when you’re off schmoozing with the high rollers.”

  I roll my eyes. “I’m not going to be schmoozing with anyone.”

  “Promise me.” She gives me a little shake.

  “Fine. I promise.”

  She bounces again, keeping a squeal behind her closed lips. “And promise to take me with you to at least one awesome party.”

  Rolling my eyes again, I say, “I promise. If any of that happens, I promise I’ll bring you along at least once.”

  She gives me another hard hug. “Thank you. You’re the best.”

  With a laugh at her antics, I push her away. “You’re welcome. I need to get in some practice time, though. And you’ll have to fill me in on the homework for sight singing tomorrow.”

  Her mouth twists in annoyance. “Yeah. Lolo wasn’t happy about your absence yesterday. He didn’t care that rabid paparazzi were keeping you hostage inside your boyfriend’s house.”

  This time my eye roll is annoyance at our professor. “Of course he didn’t. He probably gave a twenty minute lecture on how we shouldn’t have time for boyfriends or their houses or rabid bands of paparazzi.”

  Lauren laughed. “Not quite. It was about ten minutes, and it was more focused on how all our time should be spent in the practice room when we’re not in class, doing homework, or sleeping.”

  “We don’t even get to eat now?”

  “Guess not.”

  Shaking our heads at the ridiculousness of that, we head downstairs to the instrument lockers so I can get my violin. Jesse falls in step behind us, and Lauren casts a speculative glance at him over her shoulder.

  “Don’t even think about it,” I mutter near her ear. “He’s way too serious and straight-laced for your tastes.”

  She raises her eyebrows at me. “You make it sound like a challenge.”

  Shaking my head, I chuckle. “No. I’m pretty sure he has a girlfriend, anyway.”

  With a pout, she dismisses him from her single guy radar. “Too bad. I’d love to see what’s hidden under that sweatshirt. And those jeans.” She mouths, “OMG,” and fans herself with her hand.

  Grinning, I shake my head. “I hadn’t really noticed.”

  She gives me a light shove as we reach the bottom of the stairs. “Sure you haven’t. Just because you’re taken doesn’t mean you don’t have eyeballs.”

  I push her back, laughing at her. “Whatever. What happened to the guy you met at the party? I thought you had fun with him on Sunday.”

  She shrugs. “I did. But a girl can keep her options open, can’t she? I’m not ready to settle into a serious relationship like you.”

  We part ways after I get my violin, me to the practice room, her to grab a snack before her next class. But my head is spinning from our conversation. Things with Jonathan have gotten serious a lot faster than I ever expected, and Lauren’s comment combined with the events of the last few days force me to admit that to myself. I’d been telling myself we were just seeing how things go, having fun. But Jonathan’s protectiveness, and now his invitation to join him in California and maybe on tour? That’s more serious than going with the flow and having a good time.

  At least I’ll have some time in the dorm today to get my stuff. Maybe I’ll have some time to process the last two days on my own then, too.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Gabby

  When I get back to the house, once again wading through the gaggle of paparazzi with Jesse and Dean, Jonathan meets me at the door. Which surprises me, because he pulls me inside in full view of the photographers. The flicker of flashes give a strobe effect to the house as he kisses me, my violin case banging me in the leg as he pulls me in close.

  His face is glowing with happiness when he pulls back. The door closes behind Jesse, who pulls my suitcase behind him. Evidence of the length of my stay, which will now be plastered all over the internet and TV and tabloids. Jonathan’s reaction is completely at odds with mine.

  When he lets me go, I set down my violin case next to the couch, trying to regain my bearings. Jesse left my suitcase and backpack just inside the front door and is gone for the day, his job now done.

  “We need to celebrate.”

  Jonathan’s voice pulls my attention to him again, but I’m confused. For the last several days he hasn’t wanted to leave the house. Getting him to be okay with me going to class today was impossible. He was still grumpy when I left this morning. And now there’ll be pictures of us kissing, of me and my suitcase coming into his house, for all the world to see. For my parents to see. I’ve talked to them. They know I’m staying here, and I’ve managed to convince them that it’s safer. When Blaine, the head of the security company, talked to them, they came around more, but they weren’t thrilled. Aren’t thrilled.

  It’s one thing for them to be intellectually aware that their youngest daughter is shacking up with her new famous boyfriend. For her own safety. It’s quite another for them to see a billion pictures of us kissing and my suitcase following me inside. And now Jonathan’s grinning at me like today is the greatest day ever. Wanting to celebrate.

  My arms cross and my brows pull together of their own accord, and I can tell he’s disappointed with my reaction when his smile dims. Dims, but doesn’t go away altogether. “What are we celebrating?”

  One corner of his mouth hitches higher. “I have a manager. She has some good contacts and is shopping me around to labels. Labels that won’t screw me over.”

  My diaphragm seems to be paralyzed. Suddenly I can’t draw in a breath. My mouth hangs open, and I manage to gasp in some air. “So you’ve decided?”

  His smile fades, and he steps toward me, pulling me into his arms. His Adam’s apple moves as he swallows. “Yeah.” His green eyes roam over my face. My arms are still crossed between us, but his hands rub over my back anyway. “Yeah. I talked to Angela again today. We had a video conference. She’s really good. No BS. All business. I like her style. And she gets what I’m wanting and willing to do. We signed a contract this afternoon, and I got the contact information for our old PR company from my mom. I’ll be releasing a generic statemen
t soon thanking my fans, new and old, for their support. And then another one when I sign with a label.”

  “When.” My voice is still flat and small.

  He nods slowly. “Yeah. I think she can work out a good deal for me.” He gives me a little squeeze, his eyes locked on mine. “I’m happy. This is a good thing. I’ve been trying to figure out what to do after graduation for a while and haven’t been able to come up with a plan. But this? This feels right. As right as I feel when I’m with you.”

  His words make me melt, and I let my arms uncross, coming to rest on his chest. “Yeah? I take it that’s a good thing then.”

  He squeezes me again. “It’s better than good. It’s amazing. It’s like—” He looks around before focusing on my face again. “I never thought I’d get this kind of chance. I’ve been telling myself for years I don’t really want it. Y’know? I mean, there were parts of it that sucked. But this time it’s on my terms. I don’t have to worry about my brothers or my parents dictating what I can or can’t do, or a crappy manager who’s full of shit. And while there might still be crappy parts, I’ll get to be on stage again. With a crowd of screaming fans at my feet. No more settling for playing at parties and singing the national anthem occasionally before games as the token former celebrity appearance. People will be coming to see me. To hear me play my music. It’s one of the best things that’s ever happened to me.”

  His excitement is infectious, and I can’t help grinning back at him. “Yeah? Okay. Let’s celebrate. What do you want to do?”

  He dips his head for another kiss. “I want to take you out somewhere fancy. And then I want to come back here and strip you slowly until you’re begging me to touch you, then make you come until you can’t anymore.”

  A fine shiver runs through me at his words and predatory grin. I swallow hard, clearing my throat before I can speak. “Okay. I can get on board with that plan. Do you know where you want to go?”

  “I already made reservations. We’ll need to leave in about an hour.”

  I mentally run through what I brought with me, hoping I can put together something fancy enough for this celebratory dinner. Though I’ve noticed that things are more casual here than they are in Dallas, so I should be okay. Pressing up on my tiptoes, I give him one more kiss before stepping out of his arms and reaching for my suitcase.

  “What about …?” I wave toward the door.

  He gives me a lopsided grin and a shrug. “They’re not going to go away any time soon. Might as well get used to them.”

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Jonathan

  Gabby grimaces at my quip about getting used to the photographers, but doesn’t say anything. Turning, she drags her suitcase into my bedroom and shuts the door.

  I want to follow her, pull her back into my arms and kiss her breathless. Until the wariness she came home with is gone. But I don’t. Something tells me she needs the space. Flopping back on the couch, I run my hands through my hair and over my face. I’m all over the place today, from worried this morning to elation when I signed with my new manager, excited to share the news with Gabby. I’d waited, wanting to tell her in person instead of in a text or on the phone.

  But her reaction wasn’t what I’d hoped. She seemed almost angry about the news. I managed to talk her around, and she gave me a smile that looked genuine, but with the closed door between us in the empty house, I feel like she’s trying to distance herself from me.

  Is it just temporary? I get needing space to process things. Or is she distancing herself in anticipation of a breakup? My mouth goes dry and my stomach drops in dread at just the thought of it. Would she break up with me over this?

  Maybe.

  And can I blame her? This is turning her life upside down too. And we haven’t talked about anything long term. I mean, I told her she should come with me. But she didn’t really react to that, and we haven’t had time to discuss it more. I’ve been keeping the extent of my feelings to myself, not wanting to scare her off. But if I want her to come with me wherever, then I’ll need to lay it all out for her. Put myself out there, and see if she feels the same way. Because if she came with me, that would be huge. For both of us, but more for her. Can I ask that of her? Don’t I want her to have the college experience?

  “Fuck,” I whisper to myself.

  The sound of the shower reaches me in the living room. As tempting as it is to see if she’d let me join her in there, a glance at my watch tells me that I don’t have time. And while a quickie in the shower would go a long way toward taking the edge off for me, I want tonight to be as much about her as celebrating my fledgling solo career. I need to show her that what we have is important. That it can withstand the scrutiny of the public eye. And that I’m in this.

  With a soft knock on the bedroom door, I poke my head inside. She’s already in the bathroom. The door is cracked, and steam wafts out. I slip into the bedroom and pull off my T-shirt, changing into a white button down and grabbing a jacket out of my closet. I head into the other bathroom to run a comb through my hair, making sure I look presentable for dinner. We haven’t had a real date in a while, and I want to make this one good.

  A half hour later, Gabby steps into the living room, glancing at me, but dropping her eyes shyly. She’s wearing leggings and a long purple top that shimmers when it catches the light. Her hair is piled on her head, and she’s taken time to do her makeup, smoky eyes and red lips taking the place of her usual mascara and pink lip gloss.

  I can’t stand that she’s uncertain all of a sudden. My usually chatty girlfriend all quiet and subdued.

  Holding out a hand, I wait for her to take it before I say, “You look beautiful, Gabby.”

  She gives me a small smile. “Thank you.” Her voice has a catch in it, and she clears her throat, blinking a few times before meeting my eyes and saying, “You look nice too.”

  I pull her in close, wrapping my other arm behind her and pressing a soft kiss to her lips. “Hey,” I whisper. “Is everything alright?”

  Her smile looks forced. “Yeah. I’m fine. I got used to being lazy with you really quickly, I guess, because today seemed longer than normal.”

  “Did anyone give you a bad time?”

  She tilts her head to one side. “Not exactly. But it was weird. I got stared at a lot, and having a guy follow me to all my classes and stand outside was definitely noticed. People who had no clue who I was last week are now all interested in me, trying to talk to me and ask me questions.” Her shoulders move like she’s wearing something uncomfortable, but her shirt is soft and silky under my fingers. “It was just a long day.” Her smile comes back, and this time the skin around her eyes crinkles. “I’m glad it’s over, though. And I believe you said we have reservations somewhere fancy soon?”

  Smiling back, I nod. “I’m sorry things were weird today. People should get used to it soon, though, and everything will be more normal.”

  From the derisive sound she makes, I know she doesn’t believe me. And she’s probably right, but people will quit staring quite so much. At least at school. Until next semester when she starts new classes. But then, again, it’ll wear off after a week or two. People adapt.

  Not wanting to start anything, I don’t argue with her. With one more kiss, I release her from my arms, but keep hold of her hand. “We do have reservations soon. Doug’ll be coming with us tonight.” I pull out my phone and let him know we’re ready to go, waiting for his okay before helping Gabby shrug on the sweater that she still hasn’t replaced with something warmer, and opening the front door.

  The crowd of photographers has shrunk some, since we haven’t gone anywhere in the evening in days, but there are still enough to blind us with their flashes and assault us with their shouted questions. I keep Gabby tucked under my arm and follow Doug—a middle aged man who looks like The Hulk’s smaller cousin—out to the car. The flashes and shouting die away quickly when Doug revs the engine. But instead of being reassured, I know they’re all just hoppi
ng in their cars as fast as they can to follow us wherever we’re going.

  Doug has experience with this kind of thing, though. He’s been with Blaine’s company since it started, and I remember him from when he provided security for Brash. Gabby and I are still buckling our seatbelts when he pulls away from the curb, gunning the engine and making a hard right at the end of the block.

  “Sorry, guys. I don’t mean to throw you around back there, but you should know to be quicker with the seatbelt, Jon.”

  I grin at him, catching his eye for a second in the rearview mirror. “No problem. We’re alright.” A glance at a wide-eyed Gabby shows that her seatbelt is buckled, and she’s clutching the door with one hand, the fingers of her other digging into the seat.

  With a low chuckle, I slide my hand over hers. This isn’t quite proving that we can have a normal life despite the photographers, but hopefully once we’re at the restaurant things will get better.

  Doug does a good job of losing the paparazzi on the way to Fig, the restaurant where we have reservations. He must’ve mapped out several routes through the maze of Spokane’s residential streets. We cut through several tiny alleys and whizz past houses at speeds I know aren’t legal. But we make it in one piece and minus any parasites.

  But when we walk into the restaurant, and the hostess greets us with wide eyes and practically stumbles all over herself when she gets our menus and leads us to our table, I’m not sure that losing the paparazzi will be the only thing trying to derail my attempt at a normal date.

  “Oh my gosh,” the petite blonde says when we walk in.

  “We have a reservation. Jonathan Brasher.”

  “Of course!” Her brown eyes are wide, and she licks her lips, her cheeks flushing as she stares at us. “Oh! I’m sorry. Hang on.” Papers flutter as she knocks a little notepad on the floor. I’m not sure if she’s more starstruck or on the verge of a panic attack as she fumbles for the notepad on the floor, pops back up behind the podium, flipping through the pages of the reservation book to find my name. She looks between me and the book several times, like she’s making sure she has the right Jonathan Brasher.