I miss you, Dylan. But I need to move forward. Please forgive me. It’s killing me inside not to live.
With a prayer, I sent my thoughts to him, hoping he heard me.
I received my answer.
Live, Knoah. It’s okay. Live.
It stunned me. I could almost hear his voice.
Thank you, Dylan. I’ll always love you.
Kurt ended the song with a last few notes. As he strummed the last chord, I rushed into his arms. “I’m so sorry I left all those years ago.”
His mouth pressed against my hair. “I understand, Knoah. I get why. Just don’t leave again. You’re the only piece of him I have left.”
“I won’t. Never again.”
Kurt was all I had left of Dylan, too. We needed each other to heal. And without each other, we would never be whole.
Around us, the crowd went ballistic. Kurt had been right. This song deserved to be heard. It was beautifully painful. I took a deep breath, enjoying the moment.
“More! More! More!” The chant took off.
Kurt waved to the crowd as they gave him a roar of approval. “That’s what I’m fucking talking about. Don’t go anywhere.”
Screams filled the air. I gave one last wave before disappearing offstage. Kurt rubbed his forehead as if contemplating something. “You can’t go back out in the crowd.”
I frowned. “We hadn’t planned to. But why not?”
Holding up a hand, he motioned to someone behind me. “With you coming out onstage, the crowd is a little more amped up than I anticipated. I don’t want you or Sawyer mauled.”
Mauled? Good grief. More than anticipated? Oh, shit. I’d stepped onstage. We’d hugged. What was I thinking? Once, in a much smaller crowd, Dylan had kissed me onstage, and some of the girls had not been nice when I took my seat in the audience. “I’ll stay back here. No worries.”
“Good. I’ll see you after to the show. Okay?”
“I’ll be right here.”
He kissed my forehead the way he always had. “It’ll be crazy after, but I’ll find you here.”
“Sawyer and I won’t move.” I gave him a thumbs-up.
A member of the stage crew tapped him on the shoulder. “It’s time, Kurt. The crowd is getting antsy. We’re moving up the show if you’re good with it.”
“Okay, let’s do this!”
I turned and nearly collided with Sawyer. “Holy shit, Knoah. That song. Unbelievable. You helped write it?” Without giving me a chance to respond, she continued, “Un-freaking-believably amazing. That song. Kurt. You. You captured the soul of everyone in the audience. Holy shitballs. I just can’t even.”
“I only stood out there.”
“No, you bared yourself to everyone watching.”
Bared myself? That seemed a little over the top, in typical Sawyer fashion. She stared at me for a second, questions all over her face. There had been pictures of Dylan in those slides. If she wanted to know who he was, this was not the place.
Instead, I changed the subject. “I’m glad you pushed me to come out tonight.”
“Hell yeah. You can thank me by saying I can go after Kurt as my sidepiece.”
Honest to goodness, Sawyer was a mess but brought out the best in me. “Operation Sidepiece can start.”
Fist pumping, she did a few spins.
A warm, tingling feeling erupted over my skin as I felt someone watching me. I turned around but didn’t see anyone looking my way.
It was the same feeling I’d had earlier when my eyes had connected with the stranger in Cameron’s office twice. I would never forget the exact green of his eyes.
Sawyer grabbed my shoulders. “Oh, that man has not stopped staring at you.”
In her excitement, she dropped her clutch and bent down to pick it up.
“What?” I whipped my head around, looking for a man staring at me.
Standing, Sawyer shook her head. “He was right over there, but he’s gone now. He asked if you were single.”
“Who? What did you say?” Someone had asked if I was single. I wasn’t sure how I felt about that. Again, the face of the stranger from earlier flashed across my mind. Get it together, Knoah. If it had been him, Sawyer would have recognized him. I frowned, unsure if I was relieved it wasn’t him or if I was a little disappointed.
A devilish smirk appeared. “Well…”
“Sawyer!”
She shrugged. “I might have said you were single but might not be for long after that song.”
I leaned my head against the wall. Only today had I decided to try harder to move forward. “Sawyer, don’t play matchmaker.”
“Whatever. You’ll probably never see him again. After I said that, he turned and walked away. He was nicely dressed. The suit he wore was super sexy.”
Suit? At a concert? That was odd. But at the same time sexy, too.
Stop.
One of Sawyer’s favorite songs, “Doubt,” came on, and she turned her attention back to the band and her future sidepiece.
Who had asked about me? When I glanced around again, a couple of girls whispered to each other while giving me cold looks. I turned my attention back to the stage.
What did I get myself into tonight?
I blew out a long breath.
This is why it’s important to live each day like it’s your last.
Dylan’s words sobered me more. I was on the right path now. At least I hoped. Honestly, I was a mess.
Chapter Five
The constant buzzing woke me. I groaned as I reached for the phone to make the irritating noise go away.
“Hello.” My voice was scratchy and barely audible, even to my own ears. Thank goodness I’d turned down the last round of shots that had come our way. It had been too long since I’d been out drinking.
“Knoah, it’s Kurt. Are you home?”
I looked at the clock. It was only eight in the morning. We hadn’t gotten to bed until around two. “Yes. I was sleeping. I thought we were meeting later.”
“Don’t go anywhere. I’m on my way to your place.”
Last night after the show, we’d exchanged contact info and I’d given him my address.
Where would I go? It was so early. The concern in his voice woke me up. I blinked my eyes open. “What’s going on? What happened?”
“Our song got a little more attention than I anticipated. Pictures and video of us together onstage have gone viral on social media.”
I sat up—well, more like jolted upright. “What?”
“I’ll be there in less than two minutes. Don’t answer the phone for any numbers you don’t know.”
“I won’t.”
This was moving fast.
I quickly put on a pair of sweatpants and threw my hair up just in time to hear three quick knocks at the front door. Peeking out the peephole, I confirmed it was Kurt. He wore a baseball hat, but I recognized him immediately when he looked up at me. He’d been up later than I was but looked fresh as a daisy.
“Good morning.” My voice still sounded rough, and I coughed to clear it.
He held out a coffee for me. “I brought you a caramel macchiato. I hope that’s still your favorite.”
His casual smile eased my nerves a little. “It is. Thank you.” The warmth from the coffee felt good in my hands. “Come on in. Sawyer’s still asleep. What’s going on?”
I led us into the living room, feeling the tension from Kurt like a weight pressing on my chest. Apprehension filled me. Social media and viral were not terms I wanted put together where I was concerned.
For a minute, he took in the room. “This is nice. And on the beach. It suits you.”
Kurt obviously had something else he wanted to discuss other than the reason that initially brought him here. I curled into the big, overstuffed chair, giving him the time he needed. It was the least I could do after leaving the way I had.
The dull throb in my head was moments away from becoming a tension headache. I massaged my temples, wanting to
know what was going on. “I like it here. It’s… safe.”
“Safe.” He echoed while walking around the room. “Where are your pictures?”
The house was empty of any of my personal effects. Only Sawyer’s things were neatly placed around the room. My roommate was a neat freak on top of her sticky-note obsession. I shifted uncomfortably. “Umm… they’re in a box. In my room. It’s easier if they’re not out.”
Having a constant reminder was hard. My therapist wanted me to take a different approach and look through the box. However, this time I was supposed to think about what I had in my life, not what was gone. Regardless, loss was loss, and it hurt. I shifted again to reposition myself, feeling Kurt’s stare on me. It unnerved me because he knew me better than anyone else did.
“Are you happy, Knoah?”
I blew the steam from my coffee. Am I happy? That was the million-dollar question of the year. Do I evade? Lie? Or tell the truth? Kurt would know if I lied. If I wanted to move forward, I had to come to terms with the truth. “I thought I was okay, but I think that was a delusion. So to answer your question—no, I’m not happy. But I’m working on becoming happy.”
Casually, he took a seat. “I’m sorry about the kiss the night before you left. I was drunk. You were drunk. It should have never happened. I thought if I went to bed, you’d forget it even happened. Then I woke up and found your note.”
Leave it to Kurt to get to the heart of the matter. The steam from my coffee became my focus. “It felt like a betrayal to Dylan. But I shouldn’t have left like that. I’m sorry.”
When he remained quiet, I looked up. He leaned on his elbows to study me before speaking. “Knoah, if we had feelings for each other, it wouldn’t be betraying him. We don’t, so it’s not an issue. But Dylan would want you to be happy. It’s hard sometimes—getting up onstage, knowing he wanted this life as much as I did. But I know he’d want me happy. No regrets, Knoah. Live each day like it’s your last.”
“No regrets.”
Relief flooded through me at Kurt’s confirmation that we were only friends. I never saw him as anything more. That night had been a mistake.
Cautiously he asked, “Are we cool?”
“Yes. Very. But Sawyer knows nothing about what happened. I’d like to keep it that way… for now. Until I’m ready. I’m sure she saw the pictures of Dylan. If she asks, I just… I want…” I took a deep breath. “I’m not sure what I’m going to say yet.”
He nodded solemnly. “You have my word. I won’t say anything.”
At some point, I’d tell Sawyer. But later on, down the road, when I felt more together. “Why were you at Cameron’s marketing firm?”
He chuckled, a deep, happy sound that I’d missed. “Fate is funny. I only went there because my guitarist said they might be good as a fresh perspective for the band. To be honest, I almost cancelled the meeting. I’d actually left but came back for my jacket.”
Wow. A mere two minutes either way and we never would have reconnected. The thought saddened me now that the piece of my heart I’d been missing was filled again.
I took a tentative sip of my coffee as I prepared to share my feelings. It had been a while since I opened up to anyone but my therapist. “I’m glad we found each other again.”
“Me, too.”
I understood that Kurt had needed to get the friendship piece handled between us before we approached the next issue. He rolled his neck, leaned back, and took off his hat. “Fuck, Knoah. The media has labeled us a couple. It’s everywhere on social media. They want more. I got a call from my record label at six this morning. They want me to convince you to do a music video with me. Tour with me. I’ve made a statement, but it’s not taking. First, though, we’ll need to decide if you want to entertain the idea of the song being recorded. If you did, you would get fifty percent of the royalties. I’ll support whatever you decide.”
Oh geez. “Wait. All this happened since you dropped us off at two? Doesn’t anyone sleep in the music industry? Geez, Kurt, this is a little crazy from you simply singing this song and me walking out onstage.”
He scrubbed a hand down his face. “Yeah, they monitor everything. The views and shares are exponentially increasing. I told them to stop spinning the shit.”
This was not what I wanted. “How viral are we talking?”
“Millions have seen it. Photographers will find you before Monday.”
Double shit.
“I’m sorry, Knoah. So sorry.”
I took a deep breath. “I’m not sorry.” He looked up at me with surprise. “Last night felt freeing. I feel alive inside for the first time in a long time. I understand we have a serious issue, but thank you.”
“I… uh… Knoah.” At a loss for words, Kurt shut his mouth for a second.
I ran my finger along the rim of my cup. “I know I’ve taken an abrupt U-turn. It’s been building for some time. I think you were the missing piece I needed to be able to open myself up to feel again. We’ll deal with this mess. If it means I have you back in my life, then it’s worth it.”
Leaning forward, Kurt grabbed my hand. “You were always stronger than you realized.”
Heat flooded my cheeks at the compliment. “Thank you.”
From down the hall, the door to Sawyer’s bedroom flew open, startling me.
“Holy shit, Knoah. Your video is everywhere. They’re trying to find you and saying you’re Kurt’s girlfriend. And there are pictures of your birthmark all over the place.”
Instinctively, my hand went up to my neck. There, a dark birthmark of a broken heart stood out against my skin when I wore my hair up. Mom always said it meant my heart was destined for great things. For some reason, the specific mention of this distinctive mark rattled my nerves, and I struggled to remain calm.
Sawyer sat on the edge of the chair. Her hair was a complete mess and her pajamas were askew. Clueless, she still had no idea Kurt sat five feet away in the other chair. He watched her with curiosity as she rubbed her face where last night’s mascara had smeared on her cheek. “Knoah, what are you going to do? Holy shit. You’re all over my social media feeds. I mean—hello—you’re, like, everywhere. Good thing your ass looked good in those pants. And fuck me raw and dirty, Kurt was hot.”
She glanced over to the other chair, and her eyes bugged out. All of a sudden, Sawyer flipped backward and landed with a thud, her feet in the air.
We scrambled to her. “Sawyer, are you okay?” I asked.
She put her hands over her face. “Fuck my luck. I have to find a ring-bearer monkey and now this. Shit on a stick.”
Kneeling beside her, Kurt chuckled. “A ring-bearer monkey?”
Sawyer groaned as she sat up. “Don’t ask. I have a bridezilla on my hands. She’s a nutjob who thinks Elvis is going to bless her yet-to-be-conceived child through crystals. At least the wedding is near Halloween. People will think it’s a Halloween party.”
“Are you shitting me?”
Pointing to her hair, Sawyer responded, “Do I look like I’m kidding you? No, I’m not.”
Seeing her in such a state had me suppressing a laugh. Beside me, Kurt seemed just as amused. “I have a feeling you can hold your own,” he said.
Sawyer stood and shot him a sassy look while looking like she’d gone ten rounds with a bear and come out the loser. “Oh, I can.” Kurt snorted, which further infuriated Sawyer. “I’m going to take a shower and listen to Cole Davis.”
I sucked in a breath knowing Cole was Kurt’s musical rival. Anyone who read the tabloid articles in the grocery line knew this.
A cocky grin appeared on Kurt’s face. “If he does it for you, then you’re not the girl I thought you were.”
With a raised eyebrow, Sawyer tossed her messy hair over her shoulder. “Oh, I’m more. So much more. That’s why you’d be my sidepiece if we ever went out in public,” she said as she flounced to her room.
After she left the room, Kurt smirked and glanced at me. “Sidepiece?”
“Umm… you’d be her arm candy.”
He looked toward Sawyer’s bedroom. “I think this might be a nice change of pace.”
Chapter Six
Monday. It came too soon.
I spent most of the weekend hiding out in my apartment and watching movies with Sawyer.
After he left my apartment Saturday morning, Kurt flew to Miami. This morning, the news showed snippets of him surrounded by different women. His strategy was to be photographed with other women in the hopes it would take the emphasis off me.
As I left for work, I glanced at the paper in the passenger seat that showed him surrounded by multiple women. Normally, that wasn’t his scene—at all.
I wasn’t sure if the plan worked or fueled the fire. The headlines from last night referred to me as the “heartbroken sweetheart” back in Orlando.
Vultures. The media contorted the truth.
Pulling up to the gatehouse, I noticed a few photographers still lurking around. They’d been out there waiting when Sawyer left in my car that morning for a meeting with a monkey.
Luckily, as I turned out of my gated community without anyone following me, it appeared they’d followed her.
The thought made me smile, and I remembered how much Sawyer had helped me decide how I wanted to proceed with the “Lost” song. After Kurt had left, she’d walked out of her room, fresh from a shower, with a stack of multicolored sticky notes.
Multicolored notes meant two things:
Better grab a couple of pens.
Things were about to get serious.
The kitchen table was still covered with sticky notes detailing the pros and cons of my involvement in the song. It may sound unbelievable, but it helped. After a lot of debate, I decided to let Kurt record the song if he wanted and retain fifty percent of the royalties. However, I chose not to be in the music video or tour with him. It would only feed the image of a romantic relationship.
My terms had been simple: money, no publicity stunts, and anonymity.
The money part was Kurt’s insistence.
Hopefully, this mess would die down and the media would leave me alone. I figured after a few days with no juicy tidbits, they would move on.
Untouched Perfection Page 4
