Secret Hudson (A Finding Nolan Novel Book 2)

by K. S. Thomas

  Inevitably, all eyes were on me. Most of them making me wish I was wearing a set of steel fucking armor.

  “Hadn’t really thought that much about it. Figured we’d just go out and have fun, you know?”

  She flashed me her crooked grin. “I like fun. Fun works.” Then she noticed the awkward expressions coming back at us. “Ava, you gonna have fun tonight? Because you look like you might fucking hurl.”

  “I think all the hot air in here is just getting to me. I’ll be fine.” She leaned into Blaise’s shoulder, burying her face in his shirt and I couldn’t help but wonder if she was biting him to keep from saying what she was thinking. Judging by the way half of his face twitched when she disappeared back there, I probably wasn’t too far off in my assumptions.

  Meanwhile, I wasn’t about to look at Hudson. Although, even without facing him, I noticed his leg had moved and was no longer pressed against mine. It could have been meaningless, except I knew it wasn’t. It was only the beginning. He was pulling away from me. But I told myself repeatedly that it was just for tonight and that I’d be able to undo any damage I did. He’d be pissed, but he’d get over it.

  When we arrived at the EMAs, Blaise and Ava were the first to get out. Followed by Derek and Sammy, then Angel and Petra. Leaving me with my date and my boyfriend for last. I couldn’t get out of that fucking limo fast enough. I knew the second we hit the red carpet, everything else would fade away. Ava’s glare. Hudson’s cold distance. Everything would blur in the noise and chaos of fans and media people.

  The flash of cameras was blinding me from the moment I stepped out of the car and it was the best fucking feeling ever. Not because I relished being the center of attention. I hated that actually, but because it made me feel invisible, ironically. It’s like that stupid thing you do when you’re a kid and you cover your eyes saying, ‘you can’t see me’. Total bullshit. But that’s how it feels. I can’t see you. So, clearly I’m hidden.

  This was the same way. Unable to make out much of anything other than the bright red path that lie ahead, I smiled and waved and just kept on walking in the safety of the lights.

  It wasn’t until I heard my name being shouted by one of the reporters doing interviews along the way that I grabbed Francis by the hand and pulled her toward me, knowing Hudson would be right there as well.

  “Royce! Royce, over here. Do you have a minute to chat with me?” A tall blonde wearing a skin tight platinum colored dress was waving her microphone in my direction.

  “Absolutely. Mandy, right?”

  She smiled broadly and I knew I’d gotten her name right. At least there was one thing I hadn’t fucked up about this evening.

  “So nice to see you again, Royce. You’re looking handsome as ever. And tell me, who is this lovely woman by your side?” She winked and held the microphone toward me.

  “Thank you, thank you. You’re as beautiful as ever, yourself.” I turned halfway toward Francis to make sure she had her game face on. “This amazingly sexy lady here with me tonight is Francis Hollister.”

  “Francis, pleasure to meet you. Tell us single girls out here, what does it take to land a rock and roll hottie like Royce Lemmi?”

  I heard a distinct snort behind me, but I ignored it and hoped like a motherfucker, Francis and Mandy did the same.

  Francis laughed. “I’m afraid I don’t have any good inside info Mandy. I kinda landed this guy by default.”

  “Francis is a member of our management team,” I explained.

  “Damn, that’s two of you boys lost to management now. Well, there you have it girls, you want to land a rock star, you gotta get yourself on their payroll.”

  Another audible snort.

  “Before I let you catch up with the rest of the Finding Nolan crew, tell me Royce, what can we expect from tonight’s performance? Any hints?”

  With everything going on, I temporarily blanked on the whole fucking thing. I couldn’t have told Mandy if we were doing anything out of the ordinary, let alone what fucking song we were even doing. Thankfully, Francis jumped in to cover for me.

  “You know he can’t give anything away, Mandy. That would ruin the surprise. But, I will tell you this, if people have been digging the tour thus far, they’re going to flip when they see the performance tonight!”

  And then I remembered. We were doing a compilation of songs. Like the entire fucking concert rolled into one performance. It was going to be crazy. And really fucking awesome if we managed to pull it off. Which we would. Provided I didn’t forget again between now and then.

  Mandy and I exchanged the polite cheek and kiss business and then Francis and I were free to go. The trip down the red carpet seemed to last an eternity, but with each little meet and greet we did, Francis and I fell more comfortably into our fake relationship and by the time we were walking into the building, she had her hand firmly on my ass while my arm was comfortably snaked around her tiny little waist. Wasn’t like I was getting turned on by any of it, it was hilarious to me more than anything. Until I caught a glimpse of Hudson’s face.

  Then, to make matters worse, I realized Francis had seen it, too. Instantly, her hand dropped from my ass and she took several steps out of my embrace.

  “I’m sorry. It was just for show,” she mumbled. “You know that, right?”

  Hudson’s brow lifted in acknowledgement, but he said nothing. Just turned and started shooting Blaise and Ava, who were completely entangled in an embrace which could only be described as disgustingly romantic. Naturally, I felt like an even bigger piece of shit. Not only that. I was crushing my own fucking heart in the process. I wanted that. I wanted to be standing there, sharing the night with Hudson. Not playing fucking pretend with Francis.

  “Did you work this out with him ahead of time?” I heard her hiss in my ear.

  “Did I work what out with whom?” I don’t know why I thought playing dumb would be helpful at this point.

  “Don’t dick around with me, Royce. Your boyfriend looks devastated and I’m experiencing flashbacks of what it felt like when I found out my ex had a wife. From her. I don’t like the feeling, Royce. Not one iota of it. So you better fucking tell me right now what’s going on.”

  “Please, Francis. Just fucking be a friend. I can’t do this right now. Not here.” But she wasn’t going for it. “Come on. It’s not like I’m cheating. And you’re nobody’s other woman for fuck’s sake.”

  “Then why do I suddenly feel like one?” She was still scowling at me, but at least she had let me get close enough to her to be able to keep our conversation relatively private.

  “Look, he doesn’t understand. Okay? He doesn’t get what it’s like. What it means to be a fucking public figure and the fucking hoops I have to jump through to maintain some sort of goddamn privacy. Which, incidentally I don’t think is too much to ask for. Why should the whole fucking world have to know about my love life? Huh?”

  She shrugged. “I think the bigger question is, why are you trying so fucking hard to hide your love life from the world? The word ‘love’ in love life actually implies that you love something. Most people aren’t ashamed of that. Quite the opposite actually. Mostly people seem to be annoyingly and disturbingly proud to display their heart’s desire for the world to see.” She gave an obvious glance in Blaise and Ava’s direction.

  “Yeah, well. If most people got stuffed in lockers with the word fag spray painted across the damn door, they’d have a little less pride to work with too.” The words sort of slipped out involuntarily. Airing my most humiliating business wasn’t generally my style, but in this case, it paid off. Francis changed her tune. She understood.

  “Fine. You want me to be your decoy and keep you from popping up on people’s gay-dar, I will. But I’m telling you, Royce, you’re going to regret having asked me to.” She took my hand still shaking her head and I led her out into the auditorium where we found our seats.

  She was right. I knew she was right. I just couldn’t do shit about it.<
br />
  ***

  Watching Royce and Francis made me wish I was a violent fucking person. Because if I had been more aggressive I could have ran to the restroom and pummeled a trash can or punched a fucking mirror or something, anything to make me feel better. Except I wasn’t the beat the shit out of inanimate objects type, and I definitely wasn’t the beat up a girl type, so that left me with the agonizing reality in which I was a fucking pussy who had to fight back actual goddamn tears while his boyfriend went about humiliating him in public.

  Fine. He’d explained not coming out in public. And I understood. I didn’t fucking agree, but damn it, I’d understood. But this? Bringing an actual date while I was standing right beside him? It was like going from being a secret to being fucking invisible.

  I could handle not being seen by the world, but having Royce stare through me like I wasn’t even there, wasn’t standing two fucking feet in front of him, that was unbearable.

  Chapter 15

  Ironically, the only two people talking and having a good time on the drive home were Derek and Sammy. And even with all of my own shit bringing me down, I didn’t even hold their blissful ignorance against them. If Derek could steal himself a moment of actual happiness after the grief he’d suffered in the last few months, I was all for it. I’d certainly had my share of happy times recently, which probably meant I was long overdue for the impending dose of massive misery headed my way.

  It didn’t even matter that we had rocked the EMAs, or that our performance was blowing up on social media sites everywhere. Nor did it make a damn difference that we’d walked away with three awards, including best song. Nothing was going to salvage this evening short of Hudson getting a sudden bout of amnesia and forgetting about the entire day. And I just didn’t see that happening.

  “You want to tell me what the fuck happened here tonight?” The door had barely shut behind me.

  “I’m sorry. I know I should have told you I was going to go with Francis. But I mean, it was nothing. We just went as friends. You know that.” I was so fucking lame. And spineless. How the hell I managed to stand upright at all was a fucking mystery to me.

  “Oh, do I know that? I mean, I would have thought that you were just friends if I hadn’t heard you suggest the exact opposite with my own fucking ears.” He was yelling, but that wasn’t the worst part. His voice had cracked. He wasn’t just pissed off. He was hurt. Really, fucking hurt. And I was the reason. I’d done that. And that fucking killed me like nothing else ever had.

  I took a step toward him, but he turned his back on me instantly.

  “Hudson. What did you want me to do? Everyone else was taking a date. I couldn’t just show up at the fucking EMAs alone. This shit just doesn’t work that way.” I ran my fingers through my hair multiple times trying to hide that my hands were actually shaking. Not that Hudson would have noticed anyway. Wasn’t like he was even looking at me.

  “That’s bullshit, Royce. You’re not the first musician to ever settle down. You telling me Derek gets a fill-in date when Sammy can’t make it?” He was busy digging around in his camera bag and I got the terrifying notion that he was packing.

  “Derek’s situation is different. Everyone knows he’s married,” I said flatly, too focused on trying to determine if he was busy adding things to his bag or just re-organizing things in an attempt to stay distracted.

  This time his head shot up to face me. “Yeah. Exactly. Everyone knows.”

  And we were back to that. Fuck.

  “I already told you. I can’t tell people I’m in a fucking relationship.”

  He dropped his bag on the bed. “Yeah, I remember. I just don’t buy it. What would be the big deal in just announcing that you were with someone?”

  “The big deal is that people would want to know who I was with. The media would start digging. And I can’t risk anyone finding out it’s...you.” Now it was my turn to look away. Thing was, no matter how much Hudson had to hate me in that moment, it was nothing compared to how much I hated myself.

  “Right.” His tone was quiet. Almost inaudible. “Because that would upset Ava, right?”

  And even though I knew he hardly even believed that anymore, I jumped on it like a drowning man leaping onto a sinking raft.

  “It would. Why the hell do you think she made Francis pretend to be my girlfriend tonight?!” It was a good thing I already couldn’t stand myself, because I fucking hated liars.

  “You’re telling me that Ava arranged the whole thing? That she insisted you put on this whole show tonight and wouldn’t just let you go alone?”

  “Yes!” I have no clue where my complete conviction was coming from, except that maybe it was a surge of severely misguided desperation.

  “Well, in that case, you’re both assholes.” He picked up his bag again and then opened the closet to retrieve his duffle bag containing his clothes.

  “Where are you going?” I took a step out to block the doorway.

  “I don’t know yet, but there’s no fucking way I’m staying here. I’ve never spent a single day of my life in the closet, Royce. I’m not about to let you shove me into one now. You want to stay inside, cool, stay there. I get it. It’s safe. Being openly gay has cost me shit. So I really, really get it. Thing is, I can’t let everything I’ve sacrificed and endured over the years be for nothing now.”

  He brushed past me and reached for the door handle. I caught his hand just as he was turning it.

  “Hudson.”

  “I’m sorry, Royce. I get that you feel like you have to do this. I just can’t.”

  I had nothing. No response short of dropping to my knees and literally begging, which I would have done actually if I’d thought it’d make a damn difference. Only I knew that it wouldn’t. Hudson wasn’t just mad at me. He was done with me.

  ***

  I had no fucking clue where I was headed with all of my shit in hand. Truth was, I wasn’t likely to get further than the couch. After all, I was under contract. And that contract clearly stated that I had to be stuck like motherfucking glue to Finding Nolan for the remainder of their tour, which meant another two weeks before I’d be able to truly walk away from Royce. And it remained to be seen if that was something I was really capable of doing.

  Making a dramatic exit in the heat of an argument was considerably less risky when you knew damn well you couldn’t go but ten feet outside of the room before your legal obligations forced you to stop again.

  Unfortunately, I was way too wrapped up in my own funnel of thoughts to realize I wasn’t alone in the room. No. Ava was there, too. Of all the people staying in this fucking suite, she was the last one I’d wanted to see just then.

  She looked over at me over the rim of a large mug. How that chick was able to drink coffee at all hours of the day and night and still managed to sleep blew my fucking mind. Then again, maybe she wasn’t sleeping. The way she ran around the damn place like the goddamn energizer bunny organizing every aspect of everyone’s life probably didn’t leave her any time to catch too many Zs.

  “I heard you two fighting. Are you okay?” she asked quietly.

  “No. No, I’m not.” I shook my head and started toward the couch, my originally intended target.

  “Is there anything I can do? I know tonight had to have been really rough on you. I’ve got coffee, brownies and Nutella. I don’t know if you know, but those three things combined together fix damn near anything.” She attempted a smile.

  I wanted to scream. How the hell was she acting like she could erase what she had done to me and to Royce by offering me a fucking pastry?

  “No, Avalon. Shocker as is it may be to you, none of those stupid things are going to fix this.”

  Her face faltered from the harshness of my tone and she seemed genuinely hurt. And surprised.

  “I’m sorry. I was just...That’s what I do with my friends when one of us is hurt. We eat brownies and drink coffee. It’s stupid. But it’s what we do.” She shrugged helplessly.
>
  I yanked a blanket from the recliner and spread it out over the couch. “Yeah, well. I’m not your friend, Ava.”

  She frowned. “You’re not?”

  I plopped down like I was claiming the fucking place. “No. I just work for you. In more ways than one, I realize now.”

  Ava came closer. “What are you talking about?”

  “Remember that self-righteous little speech you gave me the night you offered me this job? Because I do. Man, you really had me eating up every last bit of that bullshit. Don’t I feel stupid now?!”

  Her brow knitted, crinkling her forehead and I couldn’t tell if she was mad or confused. It was entirely possible she wasn’t sure either.

  “What the fuck are you talking about?”

  “I’m talking about how you swore up and down you were the band manager and not their fucking pimp. Imagine my surprise when I find out that apparently the two go hand in hand after all and you really did hire me to fuck your bass player. I mean, it all makes perfect sense, now.”

  And the confusion was gone. Ava was definitely mad. Furious was probably more like it. “Excuse me? Well, you better keep talking until this starts making some fucking sense to me, Kieran Hudson.”

  “Really? You’re going with denial? That’s fine. I’ll spell it out for you. Royce told me,” I spread out my arms dramatically, “e-ver-y-thing. How you won’t let him come out publicly because you think it will hurt the band’s image. How you make him go to some pretty extreme lengths to properly portray a womanizing heterosexual. Including that little stunt you pulled tonight, making Francis pretend to be his girlfriend. So, yeah, it all makes sense now. You want Royce to keep acting straight, you gotta keep him happy, and what better way to do that than to hire him a little piece of ass for the road?!”

  Ava just stared at me. For a really long fucking time. She didn’t say anything. She didn’t shout. Didn’t physically attack me. She didn’t even bother to give me the finger, and I had a shit ton of pictures which indicated just how much she enjoyed doing that.