My Song for You: A Pushing Limits Novel

by Stina Lindenblatt

  He cocked his head to the side, studying the tall man in front of him, who had the same wavy brown hair as his own. But Logan’s hair was longish and messy. Jared’s was short on the sides and longer on top and was artfully styled away from his face. He also had facial stubble that made him look even sexier. In the past five years, since I’d last seen him in person, his hotness factor had climbed exponentially. Unfortunately for me and my poor idiotic heart.

  Jared smiled at Logan and crouched to his level. “Hey, buddy. You know what? That’s my favorite cereal too.”

  Of course it was. Go figure.

  “It is?” Logan also signed the words as he spoke.

  Jared glanced up at me, eyebrows raised in confusion.

  “Logan is deaf,” I explained, “but he has a cochlear implant.”

  “So he can hear?”

  “Not perfectly. And there are sounds he can’t handle. Like music.” Which was heartbreaking when you considered that his father was a talented guitarist.

  “Then why the sign language?”

  I narrowed my eyes at him. “Are you judging my decisions on how my son should be educated?” I might have stressed “my son” more forcefully than I’d meant to. Legally he wasn’t my son. I was only his guardian.

  Jared slowly shook his head. “Sorry. I didn’t mean for it to sound that way.”

  I let out a long breath. “I’m sorry too. Let’s just say it’s a sensitive topic. He goes to a preschool that encourages total communication. So American Sign Language, lip reading, and speech.”

  “Mommy, I have a dog?” Logan asked, already bored by the current subject. He was lucky. He wasn’t the one who had spent weeks studying the pros and cons of the implant and the different types of education for him, listening to arguments from both sides of the fence, spending many sleepless nights wondering which was the right choice.

  He was just the one who had to deal with the repercussions of my decisions.

  “May I have a dog?” I corrected.

  A huge grin broke out on Logan’s face. “Yes! We getting a dog.”

  Ugh! Head, meet brick wall.

  “No, Logan. The correct phrase is ‘Mommy, can I have a dog?’ And no, we can’t have a dog. Our apartment won’t allow animals.” I didn’t bother to correct his other sentence.

  His responding pout was enough to break hearts within a hundred-mile radius.

  “I’m sorry.” And I was. I would do anything for him, if I could.

  “Do you like dogs?” Jared asked, still crouching in front of his son. And I tried not to freak out more than I already was. In a city of more than three million people, the last thing I’d expected was to bump into Jared. Ever.

  Logan nodded.

  “My friends are adopting a puppy. I’m sure they won’t mind if you want to meet it. Would you like that?”

  The dimples came out full force. “Can I, Mommy?”

  “Um…I’m not sure. We’ll see.” Brilliant move, Callie. How many times today are you planning to break his heart?

  Jared held out his hand to Logan. “By the way, I’m Jared. Your mom and I grew up together. We used to be neighbors.” Well, technically, there had been a house between us, but close enough.

  “My name is Logan.” He shook his father’s hand while alarms screeched in my head.

  “Nice to meet you, Logan.”

  “Nice to meet you,” the four-year-old intoned back. “I like you.”

  “I like you too.”

  Logan grinned again. “I love soccer.”

  The corners of my mouth twitched up. Following a four-year-old’s train of thought could be an adventure in itself. “He saw your band perform last year at the soccer charity event.” The event had been a fundraiser for a soccer program for disabled kids. Logan played soccer with hearing kids his age, but when we heard about the event and how there would be soccer-related activities, he had begged me to take him.

  “I thought he couldn’t hear music,” Jared said.

  “He can hear music, but the sound is horribly distorted. We turned the implant off while you guys played.” This wasn’t always the situation for someone with an implant, but like everything else, the results differed from person to person.

  “How come you didn’t come over to say hi?”

  Very good question. “I just figured you were busy with your fans.” In reality, I had been careful to make sure Jared wasn’t aware we were at the event. For the same reasons I would’ve done anything to avoid seeing him here now.

  “We have a party today,” Logan said. “You come?”

  The alarms went off again, drowned out by the need to be the ideal mom to a deaf boy with a cochlear implant.

  “The correct sentence is ‘We are having a party today. Would you like to come?’ ” I said to Logan.

  “Sounds good to me,” Jared replied. “What time and where?” He flashed his dimples, and my heart temporarily stuttered to a stop. Father and son were definitely going to kill me if given a chance.

  “No, no. I was just telling Logan so he could repeat the correct sentence. It’s the only way he’ll learn.”

  “But Jared will come, right?” Logan looked at Jared with those puppy-dog eyes no mere human could say no to, ignoring me and that he was supposed to repeat the sentence correctly.

  I inwardly sighed and gave up the exercise for now. I had something more urgent to deal with. “I’m sure Jared has more important things to do than come to Mrs. Rogers’s birthday party.” To Jared, I said, “She’s our neighbor. She looks after Logan while I’m at work. It’s not a big deal. Just Mrs. Rogers, Logan, and me.” Nothing like those big celebrity parties he was used to. The parties he attended with his on-again, off-again supermodel girlfriend.

  “She’s nice,” Logan said, referring to Mrs. Rogers. “You like her.”

  Jared unfolded himself to his full height. He was a good few inches taller than me, and I wasn’t short by any stretch of the imagination. “Well, if you like her, then I know I will. Tell me the when and where and I’ll be there.”

  “That won’t be necessary,” I bit out. “I’m sure you’re busy.” With groupies. With your band. With anything that doesn’t involve me and your son.

  “As it is, I’m available. I just finished up with a band event for a local radio station.”

  “It’s going to be boring, Jared. It’s not one of your rock-star parties. You won’t have fun at all. It’s just gonna be pizza and birthday cake.”

  His mouth did that annoying trick of sliding up to one side. Damn sexy smile. “Rock-star parties are overrated. And I could go for some pizza and birthday cake.”

  “And balloons,” Logan added. “Don’t forget balloons.” He didn’t bother to sign that, and I didn’t push it. As much as I didn’t want him to forget he was part of the deaf community, some days it was easier just pretending that plan didn’t exist.

  “I won’t forget,” I said. “I promise.” To Jared I added, “I can guarantee you’ll be bored. I’m sure there’s a party you’d much rather hang out at. Maybe with a few celebrities.” I nodded with finality. Problem solved.

  That damn sexy smile was still there. As were the damn sexy dimples. The guy wasn’t playing fair. He checked something on his phone. “Nope, no rock-star parties with celebrities on today’s calendar. So I’m definitely free.”

  My traitorous nephew whooped at that news.

  “Seriously, why do you want to do this?” I asked, somehow not stomping my foot at how stubborn he was being. Father was definitely like son. Logan could be pretty stubborn too.

  “Because I haven’t seen you in something like five years. I thought we could catch up. Maybe give me a break from all these crazy rock-star parties I’ve been attending.” He winked at me.

  I had no idea what it was about that wink, but combined with the dimples, it was lethal. If I hadn’t been in full-out panic mode, my panties would have dampened with need.

  Okay, maybe there was a little dampening going
on, but he didn’t need to know that. A dampening you could blame on the long drought—aka my lack of a sex life.

  “What’s the sign for balloon?” Jared asked Logan.

  Despite my current freak-out mode, I couldn’t help but smile. I’d always believed Jared would’ve someday been a great father. My sister, Alexis, Logan’s biological mother, had disagreed. Even before Jared formed Pushing Limits with Nolan Kincaid, Alexis predicted he would one day make it big. So far it looked like her prediction was coming true. There was already speculation that their second album, which was due out soon, would outdo their debut album on the charts.

  But Alexis had been positive that once Jared hit it big, he would end up regretting Logan. She’d feared that his son would be nothing more than an inconvenience to him, especially since Logan had been the result of a one-time fling years after they had broken up. They hadn’t been in love. They weren’t even friends at that point. She had wanted so much more for Logan, more than what she’d felt Jared could give him, regardless of whether his band hit it big or not. She wanted her son to grow up loved and appreciated. She wanted her son to grow up as part of a loving family, complete with the white picket fence and a father with a white-collar job. She wanted the same thing for her son that we had growing up.

  That might’ve been all true, but the man standing before me wasn’t acting like Logan was an inconvenience. Quite the opposite. But would he still feel that way if he found out the truth? Or would Alexis’s predictions come true? Pushing Limits was a favorite when it came to the media, and not always in a good way. My dead sister’s fears were justified when it came to what the media would do if they discovered Jared had a son. A son who was now deaf.

  Logan would never get to be just a normal kid if that happened.

  Logan proudly demonstrated the sign for balloon, which involved miming inflating one. Jared repeated it and was rewarded with a grin from the four-year-old. Warmth filled me at the bonding between father and son. I doused it with icy water. I had to end things between them before Logan got hurt. And I knew he would be. There was no way to avoid it.

  The other part of me argued that I was making a big deal out of nothing. It would only be for the one time. Jared was busy and would be leaving soon on another tour. After the party, we’d probably never see him again.

  While the yea and the nay were battling it out in my head, Jared raised an eyebrow at me. “So do I get an invite to the party? Or am I not cool enough to hang out with you guys tonight?”

  He had asked me, but Logan decided to answer for me instead. “You’re invited.” Then he looked at me with those eyes that were impossible to say no to. “Right, Mommy?”

  Just this one time, I reminded myself. Jared will come over, we’ll catch up on whatever I can tell him, and then I can go back to pretending he doesn’t exist in my life.

  I told him where we lived. “Mrs. Rogers is coming over at five p.m.”

  He told us he would see us then and left, suddenly leaving me to inwardly freak out again. I’d just made a huge mistake and it had nothing to do with Logan.

  Instead, it had everything to do with the girl who Jared had once seen as his girlfriend’s annoying little sister, the little sister who’d wanted to tag along with the guy she idolized. The little sister who one day grew up and realized that the guy who was four years older than her really was an amazing guy. The real Jared, not the one the fans thought they knew. The Jared who I had been crushing on since I turned seventeen.

  The little sister who couldn’t risk the crush becoming something more.

  But by the time I realized it would be a mistake for Jared to come over, he was gone—and I had no way to cancel on him.

  Chapter 3

  Jared

  The last time I saw Callie was five years ago, just before my world was turned upside down. Her sister, Alexis, was two years older than me, and had been my girlfriend when I was seventeen. Well, more accurately, she was the hot babe I’d enjoyed equally hot sex with on a regular basis. We’d dated for a few months, but then realized we were more interested in having sex together than having a relationship. Not that Callie knew that. At the time she had been a cute but awkward thirteen-year-old who I had always known would one day be beautiful.

  No, Callie had been like no other girl…and she was still like no other girl, but in a whole new way. She might’ve been wearing baggy jeans and an oversized white T-shirt with paint splattered on it, but the awkward thirteen-year-old had clearly grown into the woman I had predicted she would be. A beautiful, curvy, sexy woman.

  Logan’s dark hair must’ve belonged to his father. A father who wasn’t coming to the party. Callie hadn’t been wearing a ring, so she wasn’t married nor was she engaged. Maybe she had a boyfriend but he was too busy to attend tonight.

  On the way home from the grocery store, I bought flowers for the mysterious Mrs. Rogers. I also found a dog-shaped helium balloon that was perfect for Logan. At home, I tossed the phone numbers that had been shoved into my jeans pocket during the radio event, then showered.

  Afterward I sent Mason a text: Will be late meeting up with you. Have something I have to do first. I still wanted to hang out with the guys, but I was curious what Callie was up to these days—other than being a mother. The girl I remembered was a talented artist and had dreamed of one day working at Pixar, the animation studio.

  My curiosity, though, extended only to Callie. The last thing I cared to hear about was the woman who had aborted my child two days after telling me she was pregnant, no matter what I wanted. Yes, at that point all Alexis and I had been to each other was a hot and satisfying fuck. A one-time thing. Nothing more. We had bumped into each other one day, and it hadn’t taken long before we were reminiscing about the backseat of my car…only the reminiscing took place in my apartment.

  The restlessness that had struck while I was at the radio event returned. It had been hovering around me for the past year while touring. Back then it had been easy to ignore. But now, ever since I’d returned to L.A., it was harder to pretend the restlessness didn’t exist. It was like a mosquito bite. The more you tried to ignore it, the more it itched to the point of driving you completely insane.

  But unlike with a mosquito bite, there was nothing I could put on this itch to soothe it. I just needed something to distract me.

  Callie’s apartment was in a part of L.A. where rents were higher than most twenty-two-year-olds could afford. It was definitely in a nicer part of the city than where I lived. Maybe Logan’s father was in the picture after all, or she was living with a boyfriend. It seemed an ideal neighborhood to raise a child. The streets were clean, as were the houses and low-rise apartment buildings. The surrounding gardens were green and well maintained. People took pride in living here.

  I found Callie’s building and parked my car in a visitor space. I gathered my gifts and walked to the front entrance. Inside, the place smelled clean and safe. Callie buzzed me in a moment later and I rode the elevator to the third floor, then walked down the hall to her apartment.

  I knocked on the door, and a few seconds later it opened. Callie flashed me a small, uncertain smile and let me in. She had changed out of her T-shirt and jeans and was now in a red sundress, the color faded.

  “Did you have any trouble finding the building?” she asked, voice slightly shaky. She glanced up at the balloon and smirked. “I take it that’s not for me.” The smirk slipped away, and her teeth pressed into her lower lip. Some girls did that when they were nervous. Callie did it whenever she was worried.

  “No,” I said with a laugh. “I remembered how terrified you were of them.”

  She rolled her eyes. “I wasn’t terrified of balloons.”

  I leveled my gaze at her, enjoying this as much as I had enjoyed teasing her when she was a kid. “Really?”

  “Hey, I couldn’t help that I didn’t like the loud bang when they popped.”

  I snickered. “Is that why you always shrieked like a large hairy monste
r was after you?”

  “Says the guy who freaked out when a caterpillar fell down the back of his T-shirt.”

  “Hey, in my defense, I had just watched a TV special on venomous caterpillars. I thought it was one of those. Nice place, by the way.”

  “Thanks. We like it.” She led me down the hallway, past an open door into what had to be Logan’s room. The pictures on the hallway wall ranged from when he was a baby to more recent ones. No one else was in them. Only the baby picture looked to have been taken by a professional. The rest were snapshots that had been enlarged to fit the frames.

  Like the apartment building itself, the furniture was nicer than I would’ve expected for a twenty-two-year-old. The couch was beige, with a few stains on the puffy cushions, but despite that, it was obviously of quality. As were the dark wooden end tables with the simple yet masculine lamps, and the coffee table on the rug, which had rectangles in various shades of brown. Everything was expensive—and oddly familiar.

  More pictures of Logan, of Callie’s family, and of Callie with Logan were scattered around the room, both on the walls and on the dark-wood bookshelf. No pictures of a boyfriend were visible. Maybe he was camera-shy…or was the photographer. Or he didn’t exist.

  The other pictures on the walls were ones I recognized as the style Callie would’ve created. They were the kinds of drawings and digital art you’d expect to find in a kid’s picture book, the colors bold.

  Before I could ask her about her dreams of working at Pixar, an energetic Logan catapulted from the couch and rushed over to me.

  “Is that mine?” he asked, pointing at the dog balloon.

  “Is that for me?” Callie corrected.

  “Is that for me?” Logan grinned at the oversized balloon.

  “I was gonna give it to Mrs. Rogers,” I said, “but do you think she would like the flowers more?”

  Callie laughed, the sound of it more beautiful than I remembered. “I don’t know. I think Logan loves flowers even more than balloons.”

  “No, I don’t,” Logan said with a pout. “Balloons better.”