Dating Him: The Series

by Michelle MacQueen

  “Beckett.” The older lady stood, flustered. “They’re waiting for you.”

  “Thanks, darlin’.” He strode across the modern-styled lobby to where a wall of glass separated the conference rooms. Inside the far one, Sky talked in low tones with Quinn and Harrison. April and Kyle, the Beckett Anderson PR team, sat at the long table, matching hard expressions on their faces.

  Nari joined the rest of the band as Sofie stepped into the room. “Excuse me, I’m just going to steal Beckett for a moment before we begin.” Not waiting for their responses, she grabbed Becks’ arm and pulled him through the door, shoving it shut behind her with her foot.

  Whirling around to face him, she crossed her arms over her chest. “I get it now.”

  It took a moment for her words to register. “Get what exactly?”

  “Beckett, you and I have been doing whatever it is we’re doing for over a year, but in all that time, you never let me get close. Now, I know why. You’re in love with someone else.”

  A million other excuses rolled through his mind. He never let most people in. He’d been lonely. Sofie was his assistant and a relationship would be frowned upon. But none of that rolled off his stupid tongue. Instead, he leaned back against the wall, propping his foot behind him.

  “I… Yes. I’m in love with someone else.” Man, he was a coward.

  “A guy.”

  Wait, what? “No… I mean… What?” He assumed she meant he was seeing someone else in Nashville. She couldn’t mean—

  “Nicky.”

  “I’m not in love with Nicky,” he scoffed. Did she realize how ridiculous she sounded?

  “Beckett…that kiss was hot. I honestly don’t know if I’ve seen fire like that. The way he looked at you afterward… I’d kill for someone to look at me like that. And it won’t be you. I know that now, and it’s okay. I hope you’ll still allow me to stay on because I believe in you and want to be there when you reach the highest levels of success.” Tears sprang to her eyes.

  Becks didn’t argue with her about Nicky any longer. That wasn’t what their moment was about. He wished he felt something for Sofie. She was sweet and kind and everything he should want. Pushing off the wall, he reached for her and pulled her into a hug. “Don’t cry, Sof. Of course, we still want you. You’re a part of this band too.”

  She sniffed and looked up at him. “Thanks. Now, the real reason I brought you out here.”

  His brow scrunched. “This wasn’t about us?”

  She poked his stomach and pushed him away. “Not everything in the world has to do with Beckett Anderson.” It was said with affection. “Your mother…”

  A sigh broke past his lips. The woman was not his mother. She’d abandoned both him and Wylder when they were kids, only showing up to pry money out of their father for her drug habit. And then Beckett’s first single hit the radio, and there she was with her hand out. He’d only seen her once, and the number she had was Sofie’s. It was better to distance himself.

  “She’s been in contact, hasn’t she?”

  Sofie nodded, sympathy entering her green eyes. “This time, she sounded worse than normal. I only talked to her for a few minutes. She begged me to get you to call her.”

  “Just send her a check like we usually do. That’ll keep her away. I don’t want my sister to go through more drama with her. The money keeps her from speaking to the media. Wylder doesn’t need our dirty laundry front and center.”

  Wasn’t that what he’d done to Nicky? Put him front and center? He really was an ass, wasn’t he?

  She typed a note into her phone before lifting her eyes to him once more. “I’m sorry that—”

  He cut her off and jerked a thumb toward the door. “We should get in there.”

  She smiled in acceptance and opened the door for him. The band had taken seats at the table, and every eye turned to him as he waited to hear just how badly he’d screwed up.

  “You want me to do what?” Becks jumped from his chair and leaned forward with his hands planted on the table. “You can’t be serious.”

  “Beckett.” April pinned him with a glare. “Sit your butt down.”

  Chastised, he slid back into his chair. “Yes, ma’am.” Something about the tall woman had always intimidated him. She was the label’s head public relations specialist and currently looked at him as if questioning whether he was worth the trouble.

  Nari shot him a grin. “Ma’am,” she said under her breath, her entire body shaking as if trying not to laugh.

  “Shut up,” he whispered back.

  “Make me.”

  He suppressed his grin. He could get back at Nari for the dig, and she knew it. He’d write a song with a curse word and make her sing it—which she hated—or, gasp, he’d make her do a solo. Yeah, the last one held merit.

  April, seeming to miss the exchange, slid a folder across the table. “Open it.”

  Becks didn’t have to be told twice. He stared down at a spreadsheet he didn’t understand. He’d never claimed to be the smartest guy in the room. He understood music, guitar chords, harmonies—not whatever this was.

  And April knew that. As Becks’ ever steady confidence started to waver, she finally spoke. “This is why we want you to consider speaking to the media about your relationship.”

  His relationship. He sent Nari a panicked look, but her body shook with laughter. No sympathy there.

  April leaned across the table and pointed to numbers on the spreadsheet. “In the week since your kiss went viral, album sales have skyrocketed. This here shows the improvement in iTunes downloads over previous weeks.” The number was more than triple. “And here…” She pointed to another line. “This is how many times your songs have been streamed on services such as Spotify. As you can see, Beckett…” She paused dramatically as she liked to do. “You have become one of our top performing artists.”

  It took a few moments for those words to sink in. He rubbed his jaw, hating the stubble. He should have shaved. How was he supposed to digest this information with an unshaven face? It was a stupid thought, but it played through his mind over and over. “So…you’re not dropping me?”

  “Beckett.” Kyle eyed him like he was crazy. “Why would we drop you when you’ve become a viral sensation? No, this isn’t the end for you but rather the beginning. It seems the world wants your love story. What made a man interrupt his own concert to kiss another man?”

  “But none of it was real. Guys, I’m not gay. I was only helping a friend.” None of them seemed surprised by this which must have meant Nari already told them the truth. And yet, they still wanted him to play the gay country singer.

  April folded her hands on the table. “Reality doesn’t matter, Beckett. The world wants a fairy tale, fiction. If we feed it to them right, there is no limit to your power in this industry.”

  A shudder raced through Becks, and he rested his elbows on the table, hanging his head. “I thought it was over.”

  A hand landed on his shoulder. Sofie. “They believe in you too, Beckett.”

  He looked at each face around the table. Only Nari seemed unsure of what they were asking of him. Unsure or disapproving, he didn’t know.

  “So.” He sighed. “What do you want from me exactly?”

  April smiled as if she’d already won. “This boy.” She glanced at her notes. “Nicky. You say he’s a friend. We’d like you to convince him to enter into a relationship with you. In front of the cameras, he will be your boyfriend. While the media and your fans are going crazy over this, I want you working on your next album. Include some Nicky-inspired songs. You’ll start in the recording studio next week with the songs you already have finished. There’s a tour beginning in August. Etta Morelli is headlining, and we’ve managed to get you an opening spot.”

  Quinn and Harrison let out excited whoops. Nari’s hard expression softened into a smile. Even she could get past her disappointment in Beckett to be excited about a tour. It was a sign the label truly was putting them out t
here.

  Kyle picked up where April left off. “Beckett, I’m not sure you quite understand how much you need this. After how big the story has gotten, if you come out as straight, your fans will feel lied to.”

  “But…this is a lie. What if the truth comes out?” Becks wanted to laugh at the fact he’d have to “come out” as straight, but he couldn’t muster up the sound. So many questions entered his head. What if the world found out he was a fraud? Was he doing the wrong thing? What if Nicky said no?

  And the biggest: What if Nicky hated him? Of all the questions he didn’t have an answer to, that was the one he couldn’t live with.

  Kyle pursed his lips. “The truth doesn’t leave this room except for Nicky. That’s how we lock this down. We have the go ahead from label execs, but the fewer people who know the better.”

  “And if I say no?”

  “Then I’m afraid the label cannot support an artist who lied to an entire concert full of people.”

  But they were asking him to lie now. What Kyle meant was he had no choice in this. The label held every single card, and he’d bet his last penny.

  He closed his eyes, hating himself for the next words that came out of his mouth. “Okay. If Nicky agrees…you have your gay country star.”

  April and Kyle wore matching grins as they exited the room moments later. Harrison and Quinn talked excitedly about the tour. Nari left without waiting for him, her phone pressed to her ear. Despite what Kyle said, he knew she’d tell Avery the minute she could.

  Beckett’s best friend would know he planned to use said friend’s brother as a prop in his career. The same driver he’d ridden with to the meeting took Becks back to his apartment. He went inside, throwing his keys on a table by the door and toeing off his shoes. Retrieving his iPad from the bedroom, he flopped onto the couch.

  The video was still pulled up, and he hit play, watching the way Nicky reacted to the kiss. It was impossible to take his eyes away. How was he supposed to put that sweet man through the publicity gambit?

  He closed his eyes, surprised when Nicky’s face was the first thing he saw. Brown hair that flopped into his eyes. A firm jaw and soft lips. He’d do anything for the kid. No, not kid, not anymore. Nicky was all grown up, and it hadn’t escaped Beckett’s notice.

  Maybe, thinking of him as a kid was a way to stave off the unfamiliar feelings rolling through him.

  Opening his eyes, he pulled up the notes app on his iPad and stared at the lyrics to a new song he’d started days ago. Even before they told him to write a song about Nicky for a new album, he’d started one.

  It was titled “That Girl” because he hadn’t been able to bring himself to call a song “That Boy.” Deleting the title, he typed in “That Boy.”

  After writing a few more lines, he found himself scrolling through airline tickets. If Nicky was still the same boy Becks knew two years ago, he wouldn’t agree to any of this.

  So, Becks had to go home. He needed to give Nicky a reason to say yes.

  5

  Nicky

  “After you take the trash out, you can leave for the evening.” Brian Callahan patted Nicky on the back. “The night shift will pick up the last of your tables.”

  “Thanks, Mr. C.”

  “You doing all right?” Brian craned his neck to search the parking lot for lurking reporters.

  “Yeah, I think they’ve finally realized I’m not going to talk to them, so they’ve just resorted to making up stuff about me so they have something to say.”

  “Well, this town has your back, Nicky. Everyone knows you’re a good kid, and the media is just poking their nose into your private business.”

  “Thanks, Mr. C. Have a good night.” Nicky grabbed the trash bags and headed out to the dumpsters in the alley.

  As he shoved the bags into the dumpster, Nicky thought he heard someone whisper his name. Fear lanced through him at the thought of facing a reporter in a dark alley all by himself. Nicky fumbled with the door back into the restaurant, but it was locked after eight o’clock.

  “Psst, Nick-Nick.” A familiar voice came from the other side of the dumpster. “I need to talk to you.”

  Nicky rolled his eyes and stomped down the alley. “If I wanted to talk to you, I would have answered my phone.” Nicky kept walking toward the rear parking lot. “Go back to Nashville, Beckett.”

  “Wait,” Becks called after him, jogging to catch up.

  Nicky turned to face him and resisted the urge to roll his eyes again. “I can’t talk to you when you look like that.” Becks glanced down at his skinny jeans and T-shirt.

  “What’s with the bleach blond man-bun and Jackie O. sunglasses? It’s dark.”

  “I’m in disguise,” Becks whisper-shouted.

  “You look ridiculous.”

  “I’m sorry about the media shitstorm.” Becks shrugged his wide shoulders with his hands stuffed in his pockets. He had the “aw, shucks” guilty five-year-old look down pat. But it wasn’t going to work this time.

  “You’re sorry?” Nicky took a step back. “What the hell was that, Becks?”

  “My attempt at an apology?”

  “Are you serious right now?” Nicky paced a few steps down the alley and back. “Are you this big of an idiot?”

  “Hey now. You know I’m trying to apologize here. No need to be mean.” Becks poked out his bottom lip.

  “Then tell me what the hell were you thinking when you stopped in the middle of your concert to kiss me like that? Please, I’m all ears, man, because I’d really like to know what could possibly have gone through your head that night. Do the smoke and lights make you hallucinate? They have doctors for that kind of thing.”

  “I don’t know, Nicky.” Becks tried to shove a hand through his hair but dislodged his absurd blond wig and tossed it on the ground instead.

  “You owe me something better than ‘I don’t know.’” Nicky folded his arms across his chest.

  “You’re right.” Becks sighed and leaned against the brick wall. “I saw you in the crowd, and you were upset. That douche-nugget, Kenny, was yelling at you, and that girl stuck on his arm like a barnacle just looked so damned smug. I heard your voice in my head saying he’s the best you could do, and I just lost it.”

  Nicky gave a miserable laugh, scratching the back of his head. “I would have been less surprised if you’d charged into the audience and just hit him. I don’t understand how you went from protective big brother to…to…that?”

  “I don’t know, Nicky, but I’ve made a mess of everything, and I really need your help.”

  “You want my help?” Nicky stared at his clueless friend, astounded he had the nerve to come here asking for help after he’d turned Nicky’s life into a train wreck.

  “The media ran away with the story, and my PR people say I have to ride it out.” Becks shuffled his feet against the crumbling asphalt.

  “And that includes me, how?”

  “I have two choices, Nicky. Behind door number one is my dream. A new album and a real tour opening for Etta Morelli. It’s the fast track to the top of the charts. But behind door number two is nothing but a one-way ticket back to Twin Rivers. Nick-Nick, you’re about to decide what door my future holds.”

  “Bullshit, Beckett Anderson. You are not pulling that emotional blackmail crap on me. I won’t fall for it. You made this mess, and you need to clean it up.”

  “I’m trying. That’s why I’m here.”

  “Spit it out, Becks. What do you want from me?”

  “I, ah…I need to be your boyfriend for a little while. Just until this all blows over.”

  “My boyfriend?” Nicky wanted to laugh or cry, but he wasn’t sure which. “You do realize I’m a guy, right?” Nicky threw his hands up in frustration. “You like women. Lots of them—like all of them.”

  “My fans want our love story, Nicky. If I don’t give it to them, I’m done. So what do you say, Nicholas, can I wine and dine and dump you?” Becks flashed his winning smile, t
he one that always got him everything he wanted.

  Nicky’s back went stiff with anger as the temptation to strangle Becks overwhelmed him. I could stash him in the dumpster. No one would ever know it was me—and if they did, they couldn’t possibly blame me. “You are a colossal asshole, you know that?” Nicky took a step toward him, his fists clenched. “You never take anything seriously. You just do whatever the hell you want, and you never give another thought to the people you hurt!” Nicky’s voice echoed against the brick walls. “You’ve turned my life into a circus of hiding in the back seat of your sister’s car to avoid strangers demanding to know the intimate details of my love life. I can barely make it through a shift at my job—a job I really need—without someone trying to take a picture of me. You thrive in the spotlight, but I hate being the center of attention. This is all a big joke to you, but this is my life, and I don’t need any of it.”

  “I know, Nicky. God, I know they’ve been horrible to you, and I’m so sorry.”

  “What about Kenny? Did you even think about him?”

  “He’s a tool, and you’re too good for him. Besides, didn’t you break up?”

  “Yeah, we broke up. But we were together for two years. You don’t stop caring about someone you once loved just like that. He’s not ready to come out, Becks. His father is an Ohio senator. A conservative, very Republican senator who does not want a gay son. Do you have any idea how this has affected him? He was in that video too. The media has hounded him just as much as me—and not the entertainment media. His face has been all over CNN and Fox News. Did you think about that when you swept in with the PR stunt from hell? It might have launched your career into the stratosphere, but you’ve stepped on a lot of people to get there. Was it worth it?” Nicky’s chest tightened, and his nostrils flared as his breath came in short, rapid gasps. He was so angry, he just wanted to give one really good throat punch to see how well Beckett Anderson would sing then.