Dating Him: The Series

by Michelle MacQueen

  “His new relationship suits him better than ours ever did. We had different priorities. I wanted to focus on my career, my fans, and he was never supportive, having goals that I didn’t agree with. I’m hurt, but I think I’ll be better off.”

  Nicky didn’t understand how Becks could throw him under the bus like that. Not when this whole thing started as a favor to help him save face when he’d lost his mind and kissed Nicky in front of thousands of screaming fans. He scrolled through the comments from the fans, unable to tear his eyes away from the screen. It shattered him all over again to see how much they hated him for breaking Beckett’s heart.

  Chin up #SexyBecksy. Unfortunately, there will always be guys like Nicky who just get a kick out of breaking hearts. He’s not worth it. Your #Fandersons are all behind you!

  #SexyBecksy just chose the wrong guy. Fame seekers are the worst. Nicky should be ashamed of himself. And that poor senator’s son better watch out for the #BlackWidowBoy.

  #SexyBecksy I’ll be your boyfriend. You’ll never catch me kissing other dudes. #BlackWidowBoy is a gold-digging attention whore who just needs to get a job and stop trying to ride coattails.

  #BlackWidowBoy do us all a favor and go back to Twin Rivers and take a dive off Defiance Falls.

  #BlackWidowBoy stop trying to turn straight guys into boyfriends. There are plenty of us gays out there for you to date—if any of us would even be interested at this point. What are you trying to prove? The LGBTQ community doesn’t need someone like you speaking for us. Go home.

  Angry tears rolled down Nicky’s cheeks, but he couldn’t make himself stop reading the comments. He’d tried so hard to help his friend, and now, the whole world hated him.

  After he left work last night, he found his car covered in a mess of rotten eggs and fruit. It was so disgusting he couldn’t bring himself to get inside and drive it to the car wash. He could have called Wylder to come get him or asked Julian for a ride home, but he didn’t want to face anyone, so he’d walked the seven miles home. This morning, he’d asked his pop to take care of his car. He just wanted to do what most of Beckett Anderson’s fans wanted him to do—disappear.

  A text from Avery flashed on the screen, breaking Nicky’s focus on the comments. His brother had been texting him all day, but Nicky didn’t know what to say.

  Avery: Are you okay?

  Avery: I’m sorry. Becks is an ass.

  Avery: Want me to kick his butt for you?

  Avery: Nari might beat me to it, she’s ready to kill him.

  Avery: Nicky, tell me you’re okay?

  Avery: Little man?

  Avery: Dad told me about your car. I’m so sorry, Nicky. Something’s not right about this. I don’t believe Becks actually said those things. The whole statement didn’t even sound like him. I’m here for you, little man.

  Nicky: I’m okay.

  It was all he could manage. Tossing his phone aside, Nicky stared at the boxes he was supposed to be packing. At the beginning of the summer, he couldn’t wait to move to Nashville to be near Avery and Nari. And a part of him had been anxious about living near Becks again. After years of crushing on his brother’s best friend, it all came crashing down on him, and he’d made a mess of it. Now, Nicky didn’t know where he belonged. He brushed at the tears still burning his eyes.

  “That boy is not worth a single one of your tears, son.” Grayson St. Germaine’s wide frame filled the doorway, the concern in his eyes did nothing to quell Nicky’s tears.

  “I’m okay, Pop.” Nicky scrubbed at his eyes, trying to convince himself he really was okay.

  “Listen, Nicky.” His father came into the room and sat on the corner of Nicky’s bed. “I know I haven’t always been the supportive father I’m trying to be now.”

  “It’s okay, Pop. That stuff is behind us now.” At the height of his father’s addiction, Nicky and Grayson didn’t get along. His father was a mean drunk, and when Nicky came out, he hadn’t supported him. After rehab and with nearly two years of sobriety behind him, Grayson St. Germaine was a different man. The kind of father Nicky was damn proud of.

  “Well, I’m with Avery. That Anderson boy needs a good ass kicking.” His pop crossed his arms over his chest. “You deserve better than that train wreck, one-hit wonder.”

  A laugh burst through Nicky’s lips at the look on his father’s face. “Thanks, Pop.”

  Grayson looked around the room at how little Nicky had accomplished. “You got a long way to go if you’re going to be ready to move soon. Need some help, son?”

  “I don’t know.” Nicky sighed, tossing a stack of folded sweaters into a box. “I guess I can’t get excited about this move right now.”

  “I meant it when I said you could live in the dorms next semester. It’s too late to make that change for this semester, but I don’t want to see you give up this opportunity because a boy broke your heart. No man is worth that. I know living across the hall from him won’t be easy, but from what your brother tells me, Becks will be on tour soon, and you won’t have to see him as much.”

  “I know. I just don’t think I can face him at all.” Nicky threw a pile of jeans into a box.

  “Nicky, are you thinking about not going to Vanderbilt this year?” Grayson tried to hide his disapproval.

  “No. Yes. I don’t know.” Nicky leaned back against the wall, pulling his knees up to rest his elbows on top. “I was so excited about going to school with Avery and living with them in Nashville. Now, I just don’t know if it’s worth it.”

  “Of course, it’s worth it, son. This will all blow over in a few months. I know it won’t be easy starting school with the whole country music world talking about you, but this won’t follow you forever. Now, if you want to take a semester off and find another school you want to go to in January, your mother and I will support your decision, but I don’t want to see you delay your education because of this drama.”

  “If it was any other relationship that failed, I wouldn’t let it affect me like this.” Nicky picked at his fingernails, avoiding his father’s gaze.

  “But it happened in the media, and everyone thinks they have a right to stare at you in your misery when it’s none of their damn business. Believe me, son, I know what it’s like to have the media’s attention for all the wrong reasons. But this is Becks, Nicky.” His voice grew soft. “You’ve had a crush on him for ages. It kills me that this didn’t work out for you, but I can’t stand to see you stuck in this small town where your options are so limited. You deserve so much more than Kenny or Becks. You deserve a better man, and you will find that someday. I just don’t know if you’ll find it here in Twin Rivers.”

  “I know. I’m just so tired of trying. So tired of these boys who don’t know what they want.”

  “Go to Vanderbilt, Nicky. I want you to have the real college experience. Hang out with friends. Go to football games and have the time of your life. And maybe, you’ll find a great love out there just waiting for you, but don’t stop your life because it didn’t work out this time.”

  “Thanks, Pop.” Nicky smiled. “You’re absolutely right.” Facing Becks and the whole Nashville scene wouldn’t be easy, but he didn’t want to hide anymore.

  “That’s my boy.” Grayson’s wide grin stretched across his face. “Ignore what the media is saying about you because they don’t know you. Half of them should just bend over and flap their butt cheeks at the cameras because they’re just talking out of their asses. Anyone who really knows you won’t believe this Black Widow Boy nonsense.”

  Nicky threw his head back and laughed until tears leaked out of his eyes. “I needed that.” He wiped at his eyes. “I love you, Pop.”

  “Love you too, son. Now get busy packing up this room. We’re leaving at the end of the week and you need to be ready.”

  Nicky stood in the bathroom at the Main, staring at his ridiculous reflection in the mirror. He’d always made fun of Becks with his disguises, and here he was about to do the same thing. Granted,
his disguise was a lot less elaborate and consisted of a black wig from an old Halloween costume—from the year he’d gone as Elvis—a baseball cap, and dark sunglasses. He’d borrowed some of Avery’s clothes too. Dressed in too-large basketball shorts and a ratty old Twin Rivers High T-shirt, he definitely didn’t look like himself.

  “What do you think?” Nicky turned to face Julian. “Am I trying too hard?”

  “You look like any other Twin Rivers kid. They shouldn’t recognize you. At least not right away. You might want to run as soon as you get past the cameras.”

  “All this just to walk across the damn street.” Nicky wiped his sweaty palms against his shorts and headed for the door. “Wish me luck.” He needed to talk to Wylder. She wasn’t answering his texts or his calls. He was afraid she’d sided with Becks—he was her brother after all—but she was Nicky’s best friend too. He didn’t want to face the possibility that he’d lost her and Becks all in one fell swoop.

  “Good luck. And be careful,” Julian said. “Those guys are getting vicious.”

  Nicky nodded and started toward the alley exit.

  “Go out the main door, Nicky,” Julian hissed. “They expect you to use that door.”

  “Right.” Nicky turned around and made his way toward the front of the restaurant.

  “Let me ring you up.” Sofia Callahan made a show of reaching for his non-existent ticket at the counter. “The vultures are watching.” Her eyes danced in amusement as she pretended to charge him for a meal he didn’t eat.

  “I’ll be back for my evening shift.” Nicky smiled. “You know, unless they tear me apart when they realize this disguise sucks.”

  “You look like a young Avery. Just be careful. If I see them gang up on you again, I’m calling the police, and then I’m coming out there with a fire extinguisher to hose them down.”

  “Thanks, Mrs. C.” Nicky turned toward the door, making a show of tucking his wallet back into his pocket.

  The line of reporters had grown throughout the day. They were desperate to get his comment on the breakup. The things they shouted at him were maddening, but Nicky had learned they just wanted to piss him off so he’d say something harsh. If they could turn this into a mud-slinging contest between Beckett and Nicky, it would just prolong this media storm and make them more money selling their photos and articles. He refused to give them the satisfaction.

  Nicky smiled in relief when he made it past the paparazzi lying in wait for him. They never gave him a second glance. Crossing the street, Nicky felt the first stirring of nerves. What if Wylder refused to talk to him?

  The familiar tinkling of the bell at the front door to Anderson’s Hardware set him at ease. There was no way Wylder would believe anything the gossip sites claimed. She wouldn’t throw their years of friendship away on a misunderstanding.

  “Nicky, is that you?” Mrs. Anderson asked.

  “Oh, sorry.” He pulled the hat and wig off. “Just trying to cross the street these days is impossible. Is Wylder here? She’s not answering my texts.”

  “She didn’t tell you?” Mrs. Anderson stepped out from behind the counter, her face a mask of concern for her stepdaughter.

  “What’s wrong?” Nicky frowned.

  “It’s her birth mom.” Mrs. Anderson’s shoulders slumped.

  “Has she started using again?” Nicky ran a hand through his messy hair.

  “No, Nicky, I’m afraid it’s worse. She had cancer. Sadie died a few days ago. She never told Wylder she was sick.”

  “She died?” Nicky took a step back, his mind reeling. “Is Wylder okay?” This would kill her. After so many years apart, she’d finally reconnected with her mother only to lose her again?

  “No. She’s not handling it well. She’s at home. She won’t come out of her room. I thought she’d at least talk to you.”

  “I’m so sorry, Mrs. Anderson. I… Can I go see her?”

  “Oh, Nicky, you don’t need to ask. You are always welcome in our house. Wylder needs a friend right now.”

  Nicky dashed out of the store and back across the street before he realized his hat and wig were still clutched in his hand.

  “Nicky!” The cameras flashed, and their prying questions flew at him, but Nicky kept running, ignoring their incessant chatter. He slid into the front seat of his car and gunned the engine as he fled the parking lot, forcing the reporters to get out of his way.

  The Andersons lived just a few miles from Main Street, but Nicky’s heart was nearly beating out of his chest by the time he pulled into the driveway. The media vultures had followed him and would likely show up any minute. He didn’t want to bring this to Wylder’s doorstep when she was dealing with such a loss.

  “Nicky? What brings you to Beckett’s childhood home?” The cameras flashed as several news vans arrived.

  Rage boiled inside him. The violation of his privacy was one thing, but Wylder and her parents didn’t need this. “You need to leave. Now.” Nicky glared at the reporters staring blankly at him, waiting to capture his every word. “This isn’t about me or Becks. The Andersons are having a difficult time now, and they need their privacy.”

  It was like he hadn’t said a word. They continued to fire their questions at him.

  “At least wait across the street. You all know you can’t be on private property. So just move back.”

  “Will you make a statement before you leave?”

  “If it will get you to leave the Andersons alone, yes.” It was a lie. He had nothing left to say to them, but he needed to get them away from the house. Nicky took the steps up to the porch two at a time. The reporters retreated to their vans along the street. Knocking on the door, Nicky waited, wondering if anyone would even answer.

  “Hey, Nicky,” Mr. Anderson said as he opened the door. “My wife called and said you were coming to check on Wylder.” He stood back, letting Nicky inside. “I appreciate it.”

  “I’m so sorry about all of that out there.” Nicky waved at the swarm building across the street.

  “Oh, we’re used to it by now. They’re always interested in anything they can find out about Becks and his family. I just don’t want them to know about Sadie.”

  Nicky nodded. “This is none of their business.”

  “Wylder is in her room. She won’t come out and hasn’t eaten anything in days. I’m worried about my daughter, Nicky. She’s had a rough year, and meeting Sadie again was helping. If I’d known she was sick... Hell, I don’t know. Wylder needed this time with her mother, but I’m so angry with Sadie for not preparing her for this.”

  “You and me both. It’s too much for any kid to handle. Last time I saw Sadie, she looked perfectly healthy…and so happy to see Wylder again.” Nicky shook his head. “Let’s hope Wylder will let me in.”

  “Hey, Nicky.” Wylder held the door open for him after he’d knocked a dozen times. She looked terrible with dark circles under her eyes, and her cheeks had thinned from her refusal to eat.

  Without a word, Nicky folded her into his arms, resting his chin on top of her head. “I’m so sorry,” he finally said. With dry eyes and a faraway look, she pulled away from him.

  “I’m okay. You don’t have to check on me.”

  “It’s kind of my job as your best friend to make sure you’re okay. I’m always here for you, Wylds.” He sank down onto the corner of the bed where she’d flung herself.

  “Don’t make me talk about it.” Her voice was muffled among a pile of pillows.

  “Of course not.” Nicky crawled up beside her. “But I am going to make you eat something.”

  “I’m not hungry.”

  “That doesn’t matter. You need to eat some soup or something.”

  “Whatever.”

  “And you need a shower. You stink.” Nicky smiled when she hit him with a pillow.

  “What in God’s name are you wearing?” She finally looked at him. “You look like you’re trying to be Avery.”

  “I kind of was.” Nicky glanced down at
his outfit. He normally dressed a little more fashionably than his brother, preferring skinny jeans and fitted T-shirts to his brother’s more sloppy-sporty attire. “Hiding from the cameras.” He shrugged.

  “My brother’s a jerk for making a statement at all. He should have known they’d misuse his words and fabricate more.” Wylder pulled her head out of the mountain of pillows and looked at Nicky. “He didn’t say all that. He cares too much about you to throw you to the wolves. Don’t believe anything the press says he said—not unless Becks says it to your face.”

  She was right. Whatever Becks said to the media didn’t mean anything in their reality. “I just wish they’d leave me alone.” Nicky turned onto his back to stare at the ceiling.

  “He’s the one who found out,” Wylder whispered.

  “What?” Nicky frowned.

  “Becks went to see Mom. Sky said he’d decided he wanted to see her. But it was too late. The neighbor told him.” Wylder’s eyes filled with tears. “Becks won’t answer my calls. I don’t think he’s doing much better than me.”

  Nicky sighed, rubbing a tired hand across his face. If he knew Beckett Anderson at all, this loss was going to hit him hard, and he wouldn’t know what to do. For so long, Becks held an armor in place between himself and the woman who gave birth to him, the woman who’d abandoned him for drugs. If he’d reached out to Sadie, he’d finally let that armor down only to get hurt again by her absence.

  Despite all the insanity of the last few months with Becks and their fake relationship, Nicky wanted to see him. To make sure he was okay.

  “I’m leaving for Nashville in a few days. Are you going to be okay, Wylds?” Nicky reached for her hand.

  She curled against him, laying her head on his shoulder. “I have Mom and Dad. Go be with Becks. He needs you.”