My Song For You (Pushing Limits Book 2)

by Stina Lindenblatt

  “I made mud,” he said proudly.

  I laughed. “Now you just need gummy worms and it will look like worms and dirt. Do you want me to cut your pancakes?”

  Fortunately, Kristen dropped the topic of Callie and me as we ate our food, our attention mostly on the two kids at the table.

  “You know, being a father suits you,” she said at one point as I was helping Logan with his pancakes. My entire body froze. Fuck. This wasn’t how I wanted Logan to find out the truth.

  My phone pinged. I glanced at him. He was peering at his aunt, the word “father” having caught his attention. Buying time while I frantically figured out how to talk my way out of this, at least until I could explain things to Kristen, I checked the text from Callie.

  Callie: How’s breakfast?

  Me: Sorry you were so tired that you had to miss out on these amazing pancakes.

  She responded a moment later: Are you trying to make me jealous?

  Me: Absolutely. Is it working?

  Callie: Maybe.

  I chuckled and typed: While we’re gone, you could work on your portfolio to illustrate kids’ books. I’ll take Logan to preschool once we’re finished.

  Callie: You’re not going to drop it about the kids’ books, are you?

  Me: Nope, you’re too talented to let it go to waste.

  Callie: LOL. I love you too. See you soon.

  At her words, an unexpected warmth seeped in. She hadn’t meant that she was in love with me, but it didn’t stop me from wishing the words were real.

  “It’s rude to text while at the table,” Kristen said, barely keeping in her laugh. Mom had reprimanded her about the same thing on more than one occasion.

  I rolled my eyes and placed my phone on the table.

  Fortunately, before the conversation could return to Kristen’s unexpected comment about me being a father, the waitress answered my silent prayers and returned with our bill. Thank God!

  After I paid it, we headed to the playground Kristen and I had practically grown up on. The equipment had long since been replaced. Now it was made from plastic in bright primary colors.

  We were the only people here, other than an older couple walking their German shepherd along the path that cut past the playground.

  Logan ran to the slide and scrambled up the ladder. Kristen slipped Emma into the empty baby swing.

  “How much did Mom tell you?” I asked.

  “About what?”

  “About Logan.”

  Kristen pushed the giggling Emma in her swing. “He’s a cute kid. I guess I’m just surprised. I hadn’t realized you and Callie had hooked up. And I’m especially surprised that you would have sex with a sixteen-year-old when you were twenty-one. Wouldn’t that have made her a minor?” A twinge of disappointment laced her tone.

  Logan called out my name from the slide and waved. I returned the wave and watched him go down it. He ran back to the steps and climbed up again.

  “I never had sex with Callie.” At least not back when Logan was conceived. Never mind that she would’ve been seventeen, not sixteen, when it happened. That was beside the point.

  Logan waved at me again and slid down the slide once more.

  “Oh, God.” Kristen’s gaze swung to mine and her eyes widened. “He’s Alexis’s son, isn’t he? And she’s dead.”

  “Yes, but he doesn’t know that. And he doesn’t know yet that I’m his father.”

  Logan bounded over to us and pointed at the swing. I picked him up and hugged him, then placed him on the seat.

  I could tell Kristen was itching to question me about her nephew and my relationship with Callie, but she wisely kept her million questions to herself. While the odds were good Logan wouldn’t hear them, it was a risk I didn’t want to take. I still had to figure out how to tell him the truth.

  And I still had to figure out how this would all work out in the end. With Logan. With the band. With Callie.

  31

  Jared

  I spent Wednesday morning on my couch, working on the song that had played in my head for the past week. Once Pushing Limits hit the road, the days of writing new material would be over. The more songs we’d written before then, the easier it would be for the third album . . . if there was a third album. That depended on sales for Tangled, which was the name of both our second album and its title track.

  I strummed the chord combinations I’d written so far, and made a slight adjustment from the D to the G chord. Better. My cell phone pinged a few times, but given that it was Mason, it could wait until after I picked Logan up from preschool. I’d promised to teach him how to play the guitar today. He had asked me how old I was when I’d begun playing, and when he discovered I’d been the same age as he was now, he asked me to teach him.

  The kid-sized acoustic guitar sat proudly in the corner of my bedroom. Logan would feel the vibrations when he played, or at least that was the plan. Whether he could create music was anyone’s guess.

  I finished the lyrics I’d been polishing for the past hour and left for Logan’s school. Raindrops splattered against the car windows, which made me think of Callie. Who was I kidding? Everything these days made me think of Callie.

  Callie used to love jumping in puddles. The bigger the splash the better. She would say that puddle jumping made everything all right with the world, even if only for a few minutes. To her, it was worth the soaked shoes and socks. I wasn’t so sure about that.

  The usual group of moms was already in the waiting area when I entered. Sarina nudged the mother next to her and gave a brief nod in my direct. As a single unit, they looked over at me, and I instantly knew something was wrong. The first thought was that it had to do with Logan, but if that had been true, Callie would have called me.

  “Is it true?” Sarina asked.

  I shrugged. “Is what true?”

  “You’re Logan’s father and Callie is just his aunt?” But the way she said it suggested it wasn’t a question. Even if it was a lie, she had already made up her mind that it was the truth.

  My body stiffened. “Where did you hear that?”

  “It went viral about an hour ago.” Around the same time Mason started texting me.

  One mother handed me her smartphone. The picture on the screen had been taken when Logan and I were at the playground with Kristen and Emma. I was hugging Logan by the swings. Fortunately, my sister and niece had been excluded from the shot.

  I scrolled down and read the article from an online tabloid. In it, my relationship with Logan was outed, and the article mentioned that a high school sweetheart, who died in a traffic accident a few years ago, was his real mother. My mouth dropped open at how much information had been revealed, along with a few bonuses that were far from the truth, but since I couldn’t prove this, I’d have problems getting a retraction. Not that it mattered at this point. The truth was out there for the world to see, and it was out there before Callie and I had told Logan.

  Fuck.

  “Is it true you’re fighting Callie for the custodial rights to your son?” Sarina asked. “I can’t believe the nerve of her, thinking she has any rights to him. She’s only his aunt.” She made a huffing noise, like the whole idea personally wounded her.

  My cell phone pinged. This time I did read Mason’s text: Would you goddamn respond???

  The song I had programmed for Nolan played. “What’s up?” I answered, walking away from the group.

  “Shit, man. Have you seen the story that went viral about you and Logan?” he asked.

  I ripped my hand through my hair. “Yeah, I just read it.”

  “Does Callie know about it?”

  “I have no idea. If she knows, she hasn’t contacted me. I do know, though, that she had nothing to do with it.” As it was, she was going to be spitting lava once she learned the truth was now out there.

  “What are you going to do?”

  “Fuck if I know. I mean, other than telling Logan before he finds out from someone else.” I inwar
dly groaned. This was exactly what Callie had feared. And if one tabloid had picked up the story, it was guaranteed that others would jump on the chance to tear it wide open too. Everyone we knew would be hounded for details. As it was, I had no idea how they’d even found out that Callie was Logan’s aunt and that Alexis was dead. “How the hell did you deal with it when your story was leaked to the media?”

  “Not very well,” Nolan admitted. “But at least I didn’t have to go it alone. I had Hailey.”

  “I doubt Callie’s going to be quite as understanding.”

  “You’d be surprised. She cares for you more than you give her credit for. Look, if you want to skip practice today, we understand.”

  “No, it’s fine.” The classroom door opened and the kids paraded from the room. “I have to go now. I’ll talk to you soon.” I ended the call and waited for Logan.

  A hushed whisper fell over the room. Curious glances darted in my direction. If there was ever a moment signaling impending doom, this would be it.

  A gray-haired teacher stepped through the doorway and scanned the area. Her gaze landed on me. “Mr. Leigh, if you could come with me, please?”

  “Is something wrong?”

  The you’ve-got-to-be-kidding-me expression was the only answer I needed. I followed her into the classroom. This was the first time I’d been inside it, and it was exactly what I’d expected. The tables and chairs were kid-sized, as were the shelves scattered around the room, with their colorful storage containers. A huge alphabet rug, with pictures alongside their corresponding letters, sat in the reading corner. The classroom had been designed to be bright and cheery, a place where a kid would want to come to learn.

  Unfortunately, the four-year-old sitting on a chair was anything but bright or cheery. Logan’s gaze was glued to the table, his arms folded tightly across his small chest. Another teacher was talking to him, but I couldn’t tell if he was listening or had tuned her out.

  “What’s going on?” I asked, and squatted next to him. A bad feeling sliced through me, leaving a jagged edge. Sarina had mentioned that the article had gone viral an hour ago, but that didn’t mean someone hadn’t seen it sooner.

  When Logan didn’t answer, I glanced up at the teachers for help.

  “Why don’t we go into my office, Mr. Leigh?” the gray-haired woman said. “Rachel, can you stay with Logan for a few minutes?”

  The younger woman nodded.

  “Logan, are you okay if I go off with . . . ?” I glanced at the gray-haired woman.

  “I’m Mrs. Mansfield. The assistant principal.”

  Logan didn’t respond.

  I followed her into her office and took the chair in front of her desk that she’d gestured at. Logan’s classroom might have been bright and cheery, but it was clear that Mrs. Mansfield preferred a less upbeat, blander space to work in. It was simply furnished, with just the basic necessities—a desk, bookshelf, filing cabinet, chairs, all in black. The only artwork on the walls was a single large painting of a mountainous landscape at sunset, done in a fiery red, the harbinger of doom. It was also the only splash of real color in the room.

  She walked to her seat and sat back in her chair. An urge struck me to remove my lucky guitar pick from my pocket. I fought back the impulse.

  “One of the students came to class this morning,” she said, “and told Logan that you’re his father and Callie was only his aunt. The individual also told him that his real parents didn’t want him, and that’s why Logan is living with his aunt. Understandably, this upset Logan, and he hit the other child.”

  Shit.

  I didn’t know what I was supposed to say or do. If I had foreseen all of this, I could’ve been better prepared. As it was, I was still struggling with the idea of being a father. I knew nothing about it, other than I wanted to be like my own father, who I admired and respected.

  “I suggest you take Logan home and talk to him about how he’s feeling. And I would like you and Callie to meet with our school counselor.” She released a slow breath. “Is it true you’re involving the courts in a custody battle?”

  “I only found out a week ago that I’m a father, and I’m still coming to terms with it. Logan loves Callie and I don’t want to destroy their relationship. That’s all I know.” It was pretty much the truth. She didn’t need to know the rest. I was sure she wouldn’t approve of the fact that Callie and I were just testing the waters, with no actual plans of making things permanent between us. That wasn’t what Logan needed.

  He needed a family.

  32

  Callie

  I couldn’t remember the last time I’d seen the diner this busy. My feet were ready to call a strike and I still had over an hour left of my shift.

  The diner door opened. Tiffany entered with the same guy she had been with the last time. Murmured excitement stirred from the surrounding tables. If a skinny supermodel was okay with eating in a diner known for its greasy yet delicious food, then it must be okay for everyone.

  They wouldn’t have been as excited if they’d known that the last time Tiffany was here, she’d eaten food that would’ve made a rabbit jealous.

  I entered the kitchen to check on my orders. While I was there, Beckie came in from the staff room. Her face was pale, a stark contrast against her black hair.

  “What’s wrong?” I asked.

  “Have you checked any of your social media sites today?”

  I laughed and shook my head. Who had time for those when you were balancing a full-time job, being a mother, part-time classes, regular meetings with your son’s therapists and school, and freelance design work? Occasionally I went on it when I wasn’t working, but it wasn’t my priority.

  “Someone’s spreading a vicious rumor that Jared Leigh is Logan’s father, and apparently you’re dead?”

  Oh God. The words became stuck in my throat, cutting off my ability to breathe. I leaned back against the counter to keep from collapsing.

  Beckie’s eyes widened. “Oh, shit. It’s true. I mean, other than the part where you’re dead. Obviously you’re not.”

  “Callie, your order’s up,” Larry called out.

  Beckie said something, but I didn’t hear her. I was too focused on getting air in and out of my lungs.

  The kitchen door swung out, and Alice poked her head in. “Callie, Tiffany Grainger specifically asked for you, but she didn’t want to wait until one of your tables opened. She’s sitting in Beckie’s section.”

  Right, because I wasn’t busy enough as it was. “Why the heck does she want me? It’s not like Beckie can’t take an order for lettuce leaves.”

  Alice shrugged. “Who cares what her reasons are, just as long as she doesn’t bad-mouth the diner.”

  With a grunt that didn’t begin to convey how crappy this day was turning out, I grabbed my order from under the warmer and entered the dining area. I delivered the food to the waiting table, then headed over to Tiffany.

  “Hi, are you ready to order?” I gave her my best smile, plastered on with a heavy dose of superglue.

  The answering smile was nothing that would ever be featured in Vogue—except maybe at Halloween. Inwardly I shuddered. “No, but I would ask you, woman to woman, to back off when it comes to my boyfriend,” she said with mock sweetness. On the wall beside her was a photo of a wide, all-encompassing tornado with lightning streaking across the sky. How fitting.

  “Your . . . your boyfriend?”

  “Jared Leigh.”

  “But . . . I thought you guys weren’t seeing each other anymore.” At least I assumed they weren’t—because he and I had been screwing for the past week. Did it mean that after he’d finished fucking me, he turned around and fucked Tiffany too?

  God, I hoped not.

  “Now that I’m living in L.A., we’re back together.”

  That was news to me. Jared hadn’t even mentioned her since we began hooking up.

  “You love him, don’t you? The boy, I mean,” she said.

  “Ye
s.” I bit back the words I craved to say: I love them both.

  “What if I can convince Jared to let you have full custody? I think you and I both agree his lifestyle is the worst possible one for a child.”

  True. “But why would you want to help me?”

  “Because my parents were very much like Jared. They were always traveling. They never had time for me. I was raised by nannies. No child should have to go through that. Logan’s a sweet kid. He deserves better than that. And he’s better off being raised by a parent who can always be there for him. He doesn’t need a parent who pops into his life whenever it fits into his busy schedule.”

  I could only nod, because she was right. It was what I had always feared from the beginning. It was what Alexis had feared. I was in love with Jared, but what I wanted wasn’t important.

  “The only thing I ask from you in return,” she said, “is that you end whatever relationship it is you have with Jared. You can’t be his friend or anything else you might have going on with him. It all ends now.”

  I frowned. “Why would I do that? Jared is Logan’s father. He’ll see me whenever he visits Logan.”

  “I don’t think you have to worry about that. He’ll be too busy with touring and with his life to visit.”

  So in the end, Jared would be nothing more to Logan than a monthly child support check. Like I feared, he would end up disappointing his son again and again and again. Plus, it was clear that Tiffany didn’t want to be part of Logan’s life, not in the same way I did. Maybe it was because she knew her career, like Jared’s, wasn’t the best when it came to being a mother. She was only interested in Jared, but unlike me, she fit in perfectly with his life.

  Except where did that leave Logan?

  33

  Jared

  Logan and I walked back to his home in silence after his assistant principal had finished speaking with me. I should’ve made more of an effort to talk to him, but all I could think about was what Callie would do once she found out about the article that had gone viral. All I could think about was who had leaked the information. All I could think about was what the hell was I going to do to fix it, preferably before the band’s promo blitz began in two weeks. Because after that things would be crazy, and by the time life settled down again it would be too late.