by Lisa Suzanne
But it is what it is. I’m in love with Lexi, and I can’t hook up with any of the beautiful women hitting on me tonight when I don’t know where I stand with her.
Even if she’s going to abandon me in the end, too.
The night gets a little foggy not too long after the tequila shot, but I am aware of one thing: It’s official. I’m a fucking rock star now.
When I wake up the next morning, I don’t feel much like a rock star.
My head throbs and everything hurts and I feel sort of like I got run over by a bus.
I’m not at the house I’ve lived in for the last month or so, and as I look around, I’m honestly not totally sure where I am. I’m definitely in a bedroom of someone’s house...but that’s all I know.
There’s a bathroom, so I use it. I splash water on my face as I try to force the hangover haze away. I wish I had my fucking phone just so I could try to piece together what the hell happened, but I don’t.
I leave the bedroom and walk down a long hall toward the voices I hear in another room. I’m a little nervous. I can’t remember the last time I woke up and didn’t know where I was. As I get closer, I recognize one of the voices as Dax’s.
And then I hear smaller voices.
Are there kids here?
Where the fuck am I?
I step into an expansive family room attached to a kitchen and find Dax and Mark Ashton on the floor with two kids, a little girl who looks to be a few years older than a little boy.
These must be Mark’s kids.
“Good morning,” Dax says when he looks up at me. He’s in the middle of doing one of those huge floor puzzles that looks like a scene from the ocean with the girl.
Mark grabs the boy before he crawls onto the completed puzzle and lifts him up into the air. He can’t be more than a year old, and he giggles in that way babies do.
“Good morning, Gage,” a woman’s voice calls from the kitchen. I turn and recognize Reese, Mark’s wife. “You like bacon?”
“Good morning,” I say, still confused as to what I’ve walked in on and why I’m here. “And yes, of course.”
“Great, I’ll throw a few more pieces in.” She hums as she cooks, and I finally gather that I’m at Mark Ashton’s house. “Welcome to our home, by the way,” she adds with a giggle.
Holy shit.
I slept at Mark Ashton’s house.
He’s the CEO of my record label.
The lead singer of one of the greatest bands of all time.
And I slept at his house like we’re old buddies.
“Ashton, finish up your puzzle and go wash your hands for breakfast,” Reese calls to her daughter.
Mark stands with the baby. “Feeling good this morning?” he asks with a grin.
I laugh. “I’m MFB’s bassist, man. Yeah, I’m feeling pretty good.”
“Right answer,” Dax says. “Even though you got hammered last night.”
“Daddy, what’s hammered mean?” Ashton asks from her spot on the floor by the puzzle.
“He was working with his friends and using a hammer to build something,” Mark says without missing a beat.
“Like when you and Mommy hammered those nails in the wall to hang our pictures?” she asks.
“Yeah, baby. Daddy hammers Mommy all the time,” Mark says, and Reese bursts out laughing in the kitchen.
Ashton finishes her puzzle and heads to the kitchen to wash her hands, and I still can’t quite believe I’m standing in Mark Ashton’s family room as he holds his kid and Dax Hunter stands beside him and I’m the new bassist for MFB. “Is her name Ashton Ashton?” I ask Dax under my breath while Mark tends to his kids.
He laughs. “No. Her last name is Fox. Ashton is a stage name.”
A beat of quiet passes between us, and then Mark rejoins us. “Has it sunk in yet?” he asks.
I shake my head. Clearly my thoughts are written right there on my face. “Not quite yet.”
They both laugh.
“As Dax so politely mentioned in front of my children, you got pretty hammered last night, so we just brought you here for the night since we have paperwork for you to sign anyway. Hope that was okay. You need anything?”
Just Lexi.
I can’t believe I’m standing in Mark Ashton’s house wishing I hadn’t spent the night here—wishing instead I’d spent it at the house I shared with Lexi during the competition since last night was our last night there.
There are no more nights.
We’ve run out of time, and I don’t even know when I’ll see her again.
If I’ll see her again.
I sit down to breakfast, and I’m grateful for the greasy bacon and strong coffee that help cure the hangover I woke up with.
Mark talks business, filling me in on the different documents he’ll need me to review. It sounds like I’ll basically be signing my life over to Ashmark and MFB, and that’s why I’m here. I wouldn’t want it any other way.
I’m thrilled. I’m ecstatic.
I just wish I didn’t have that searing ache in my chest in the spot that Lexi holds.
CHAPTER 54: LEXI
When I wake up, the house is quiet. Gage’s door is open, and his bed is made. His duffel bag sits on top of it, exactly where it was when I walked by that same doorway last night after the afterparty.
I tried a hundred times to walk over to him, to bid him congratulations, to talk to him, but he was busy.
As he should have been. He has no obligations to me, and he deserved his celebration.
But it still hurts my heart more than I care to admit when I find that he didn’t sleep here last night.
He was pretty quick to jump into bed with me at the hotel, and I have this sinking suspicion that the same sort of thing happened last night. He had his hands full with a woman hanging off each of his arms as I made one last valiant attempt to say goodbye, so I didn’t bother. He was laughing and having a great time, and I didn’t want to take away from that in any way. I went, I fulfilled my obligations, and I left. I cried myself to sleep, and now it’s morning and I don’t feel any better.
My bags are packed and I’m ready to go wherever I’m supposed to go next. I just have to figure out what that is.
I try to look on the bright side anyway because that’s just the kind of person I am. I’ve got a meeting at Ashmark. I’ve got Ethan Fuller in my corner, saying he’s ready to fight for me. That’s a big freaking deal.
“Good morning,” Camille says when I walk into the kitchen.
“Morning,” I murmur, and I start fixing myself a bowl of oatmeal.
“Your meeting at Ashmark is scheduled for twelve noon. Is that a problem?”
I shake my head. “Sounds great.”
“They just want to have a short exit interview and discuss your living arrangements for the time being until the show airs,” she says.
“Okay.” I nod and set my bowl in the microwave.
“On a personal level, Lexi, I thought you did a great job. I was rooting for you.”
I glance up in surprise, and she smiles at me.
Camille’s the one who’s really been all business this whole time. But it’s over now.
“I can’t pretend to know what you’re going through, but I saw some of your confessionals, and I saw some of his. Find a way to talk to him. For what it’s worth, you two seem pretty damn perfect for each other.”
I press my lips together. As unlikely as it first seemed, as it turns out, we really were pretty perfect for each other. But just as I thought this whole time, one of us is going to fly while the other is going to be left behind in the dust.
And I’m already choking on the cloud he’s kicking up.
“Thanks, Camille,” I say, and I can’t seem to muster much more than that.
She presses her lips into a thin smile and bolts, and I’m left alone with my breakfast. I take it to the patio and stare at the pool, where I watched him swim lap after lap.
And then, because I slept later
than I realized, it’s time to get ready and head to Ashmark. Tony the driver waits out front for me, and he hauls my bags into the trunk. He ushers me toward downtown Los Angeles.
We arrive at the imposing building with the ASHMARK logo written in large block letters across the top, and it’s still surreal to be here even after everything I’ve been through since I first got the invitation to be on this show.
I take the elevator up, and the receptionist calls to one of Mark Ashton’s assistants, who ushers me back to the same conference room where I stood the first time I met MFB.
This time, though, I find several Ashmark executives along with Mark Ashton and Ethan Fuller. There are no MFB members present.
“Good afternoon, Miss Weber,” Mark says formally. He nods toward an open seat.
“Good afternoon,” I say with a small smile, and I slide into the chair.
“Thank you for meeting with us today,” Mark says, “and congratulations on an epic performance in the competition. You stood out among the others not just for your talents on bass, but more importantly for your voice.”
“Thank you,” I say, and my words hold far more strength than I expect them to. I know I’m a good singer, but to hear one of my idols tell me that means the world to me.
“We had Camille call this your exit interview, but that’s not really what it is.” Mark glances at Ethan, who nods. “We called you in today because throughout this competition, all of us sitting here along with all four original members of MFB saw more in you than a replacement bassist. We saw you flourish and grow under the intense heat of competition. We saw you own not just the bass, but also the vocals any time you interjected on back-ups. And your voice is too strong to be a back-up. Your talent is too powerful to be cast to the side purely on bass. We want you front and center, owning every stage you walk across, and we want to be the vehicle that helps you see the biggest stages of your life from the driver’s seat.”
My heart starts racing as I wait for where I think he’s going with this.
“So today we’d like to offer you a rather attractive and lucrative contract to sign with Ashmark Records.”
I’m pretty sure my heart stops for a second at his words.
All the blood drains from my cheeks.
I feel like I’m going to pass out.
“You’ll be our first foray into country music,” he continues, “and you can bring along your band members from Electric Red Summer if they’re interested or we can work together to find your permanent band, but let it be very clear that this will not be ERS. It’ll be Lexi Weber, or simply just Lexi, pending what our marketing team drafts up for you, plus her back-up band.”
He says some other things, but I can’t really hear him over the rush of excitement in my ears.
Ashmark Records is offering me a recording contract.
Oh.
My.
God.
What even is happening right now?
I think maybe I do actually black out for a second, because when I come back to, Mark is pushing some paperwork toward me.
“This is the official contract,” he says. “Take it with you, read it over, have a lawyer look at it if you’d like, and let us know if this is something that will work for you. We’re open to negotiations as well if there’s any stipulations you’d like to add. We’re excited about the possibilities of bringing you on board here.”
“Wow,” is all my dumb mouth can manage to spit out. I draw in a shaky breath and attempt to compose myself.
I just went from being the loser of a reality show competition to getting my own freaking recording contract.
Holy. Cow.
“Thank you.” My voice trembles as I reach for the papers. “I’m honored. It would truly be a privilege to work with y’all.”
Mark smiles. “Fantastic. Take your time, but let’s schedule a meeting in a few days to see where you’re at and if you’re ready to sign. I’ll have you talk with one of my assistants to set up a meeting, and she can also help you work out living arrangements. I know Camille told you that you need to stay here in LA until the show airs, and we still stand by that, but you can head back to Nashville for a few days to take care of things, talk to the other ERS members, and get what you need to move here indefinitely should you choose that route. She’ll book you a flight, too, and she also has your phone to return to you.”
“That’s all so generous of you to offer,” I say, and my manners cause me to hold up a hand. “But I can’t accept all that.”
“Nonsense,” Ethan says. “You can and you will.”
I laugh. I feel like when Ethan says something, well, he probably always gets his way, so I let it go and I graciously accept what they’re offering.
“Thank you,” I say. “For everything. For the opportunity to play with MFB, for this.” I nod toward the contract. “For a potential future I never dreamed of.”
Mark smiles. “Review the contract so we can get started on those dreams.”
CHAPTER 55: GAGE
The house is empty when I get back. Lexi must already have headed off to her meeting at Ashmark, and I’m really just here to pick up my bags and say goodbye to the producers.
I stand on the patio one last time and look out over the water.
Never in my wildest dreams when my eyes landed on this view for the very first time could I have imagined everything that would happen by the time I looked upon it for the last time.
Kat steps out onto the patio, interrupting my reverie. She waves something in her hand at me, and my stomach does a little flip when I see what it is.
My phone.
I wonder if Lexi ever responded to the final text I sent.
I take it from her with a muttered thanks, and when I go to turn it on...
Well, it’s pretty anticlimactic. The battery’s dead from sitting unused for the last few weeks.
“Really, Kat? You couldn’t have given me a courtesy charge before handing this over?”
She laughs. “Not my job, big boy.”
I roll my eyes. My charger is somewhere in my duffel bag, which is now by the front door as I wait for my ride to Ashmark, so I head inside with Kat following close behind as I make my way to the hall.
“I’m going to miss bugging you every day,” she says. “Getting inside that head of yours. Who will you confess your deepest, darkest secrets to now?”
I chuckle dryly. “Dax, I guess.”
She laughs and touches my arm, and I bend to find my charger, moving out of her reach.
“You’re really stuck on her, huh?” It feels very much like this is her way of asking if she has a chance.
The answer is a firm no.
I blow out a breath as I pull out the cord and stand. “I’m in love with her.”
“I saw the way you were fending off all those girls last night.” She shakes her head. “She’s one lucky lady.”
“Yeah, well, we’re not exactly together, so I’m not sure how lucky either of us are when it comes to our relationship.” I head to the kitchen to plug in my phone so I can get at least a little juice to power it on.
“Good luck to you, Gage, not that you’ll need it.” She presses her lips together, and I suppose in some twisted way, she did sort of become my friend through all this.
I give her a quick hug, and then Camille steps into the kitchen. “Your ride’s here,” she says, and I glance at my phone. It’s not even on yet.
“Thanks.” I issue a hug to her, too, and fist bump Ben and Miles.
And then I unplug my phone, grab my duffel bag, and head out the door to whatever comes next.
Tony awaits.
He’s taking me to my record label, where I’ll have a chance to sit down with a lawyer to review the terms of my contract. Then Tony will take me...wherever I want to go, I guess. Until I find a place to live, they’re putting me up in the same hotel Lexi and I stayed in before filming started, and I can’t help but wonder whether she’s staying there, too.
I can’t help but wonder what she’s doing right now. What she’s thinking and feeling. How she feels about me. If she meant those words last night or if she said them out of friendship because an experience like this bonds people for life in ways people outside of it could never understand.
There’s a USB port in the back of the car, so I plug in.
My phone lights up after a few minutes.
And when it finally powers on, I see a whole slew of missed messages and calls.
But I scroll through those messages until I find her name.
There’s a new message...but it’s an old new message.
It was sent the morning I powered my phone down. A reply to the last message I ever sent her.
I draw in a deep breath as I read the last words she had to say to me before we found each other in the same house competing for the same prize.
Lexi: If you’re in Los Angeles the first weekend of September, meet me at the lobby bar on Friday night at eight. That’ll be our second chance.
My chest squeezes.
I’ll be in Los Angeles the first weekend in September.
She will be, too, if she’s following the instructions from the producers to stay in town through the finale.
In fact, I might even be staying at the hotel where she wants to meet, presuming I’m not otherwise engaged with MFB at eight PM this Friday.
Will she be? That remains to be seen.
She sent this text long before we found each other in the house, long before we said words we can’t unsay.
Long before she said I love you seconds before I took the grand prize and she left with nothing.
Do I text her back? I assume she has her phone back, too, but I have no idea where she is or what her state of mind is.
What do I even say at this point?
The first weekend in September is only a few days away.
Do I hold out?
Will she even show up?
We pull up to Ashmark before I have any answers, and then I’m swept into the lawyer’s office, where she goes over every point of the contract in detail and waits for my questions.
