by Taylor Hart
A lump formed in Boston’s throat, and he took Ty’s hand again. He sniffed. “I love you, bro. You know that, right?”
Ty was quiet. After a minute, his lip tugged up and he opened his eyes. “You crying, Brady? ’Cause I don’t like criers.”
Boston laughed, feeling relieved and hating himself at the same time.
Ty squeezed his hand. “I’m not dying yet, bro. I’m just tired. Don’t worry, I’m okay.”
Boston messily wiped his face and squeezed Ty’s hand harder. “Okay.” He told himself to get it together. “Okay.”
Chapter 22
Addison stood in the middle of the dance studio at the end of the day, the music blaring, sweat pouring off of her. She and Boston had been texting all day. Ty was still doing okay, and his mother was on her way. Even though Boston had said he would be able to do the tryout with her, she’d spent the last four hours focusing on her solo dance. It wouldn’t be ideal, but she needed to be ready just in case.
The door to the studio opened, and Boston poked his head in. “Hey.” He was wearing the same clothes from that morning, and he looked ragged and worn out. A smile spread across his lips. “You practicing without me?”
She ran over and threw her arms around him. “I missed you.”
Boston pulled her into him.
Once again, it was shocking how fast they’d gotten to this stage, the stage where she felt more relief and comfort in his arms than she did anywhere else. Right here in his arms was exactly where she needed to be.
“How is Ty?” she asked.
Putting his lips gently on her head, he nodded. “He’s okay. Tired, but Dr. Cruz says he’ll pull through this. He actually said it’s a good thing, because now they know the level at which Ty can’t handle anymore.” He scoffed, letting out a breath and raking a hand through his hair. “Anyway, Mom’s here. She wanted to stay at the hospital with him.”
She squeezed his hand. “We don’t have to do this tomorrow. If you need to stay with them, you can.”
A scowl crossed his face, and he put his hand gently on her cheek. “You wussing out on me, Adair?”
“No,” she said, a light laugh escaping her. “I just want you to be with your brother if he needs you.”
Boston traced from her ear down to her chin, his eyes focusing on hers. “I’m going to head to the hospital early tomorrow with all my stuff. You pick me up at ten, and we’ll get there with plenty of time.”
“Are you sure?” she asked.
“We’re doing this tryout tomorrow and we’re killing it with the Pamchenko.”
She scoffed. “I don’t think so. It’s not ready.”
“Then watch it with me on YouTube.” He patted his pocket. “Shoot. Left my phone at the hospital. I’ll have to grab it in the morning.”
That was a good sign—the phone wasn’t attached to him twenty-four seven anymore. “Oh well. No Pamchenko for us.”
“It’s all right here. I’ll show you.” Boston tapped his head, then bent and took off his shoes. “I don’t have my stuff, but I can throw and catch you without spandex and dance shoes.”
“Routine first,” she said. “Then we’ll see.”
So that’s what they did. For the next hour, they went through the routine. Boston was as good as ever—strong, steady, and somehow focused. And they nailed it, if she did say so herself.
At the end of the last run-through, she went for it. She ran at him, he threw her in the air, and she spun; then, as she came down, he caught her perfectly. It was the best feeling in the world. They’d pulled it off better than ever, and she’d never felt closer to him.
As he slowly lowered her, their eyes were locked. Her breath came fast and heavy.
He held her there, eye to eye. This connection between them was the only thing in the world that was real. Finally, his lips met hers, and she was lost in his kiss, in his touch, in the hope of everything they’d become. Once the tryout was over, she would be ready for more of this. For a real relationship, and not just a dance partner relationship.
Pulling back, she smiled at him. “Thanks for being you.”
He smiled back. “I told you—the Brady Guarantee.”
She laughed at him.
“You’re going to kill it tomorrow.”
Vulnerability seeped into her. “You promise?”
“I know it.”
Her heart raced and she stared into his eyes. “Boston?”
He seemed to feel the intensity, too. “Yes.”
“I … I have feelings for you.”
His lip curled up in amusement. “I know.”
Reflexively, she pushed his shoulder.
He laughed and bear-hugged her, kissing the side of her face and whispering, “Because I wanted to tell you this today: I decided last night that you’d better get used to me taking up headspace, because you’re not getting rid of me that easy.”
She let herself relax against him and thought about how terrifying it was today to almost lose Ty. “Good. I don’t want to get rid of you.”
Chapter 23
The day of the audition, Addison drove toward the hospital, nervous butterflies thrumming through her gut. Her mind was abuzz with thoughts about the tryout, and especially thoughts about Boston and how her whole world had changed with him in it.
It was crazy, right? The last thing she’d planned this summer was falling in love, yet this guy who she’d only known three weeks had taken over her heart. They’d gone through a lot together, and it felt like she’d known him a long time.
Traffic slowed as she approached the stoplight next to the hospital. Red lights flashed, and she saw glimpses of crashed cars in the intersection. It took ten minutes to reach the detour that would take her along a longer route. She didn’t need to be slowed down like this. She’d planned on going in for a minute to meet Boston’s mom, but now she didn’t have time.
Quickly, she pressed the talk-to-text on her phone and said, “Accident. Can you meet me outside?”
Chapter 24
“Mom, I’m going to have to go. Addison’s been delayed; I need to meet her out front.” He unplugged his phone and shoved it into his pocket.
His mother stood, moving to him. “Okay. Let us know how it goes.”
“Brady Five!” Ty put his fist into the air.
Boston laughed and mimicked the action. “Brady Five!”
His mother followed him out, taking his hand. “I’m proud of how you’ve stayed so close to your brother. Thank you.”
Boston swallowed his emotion. “I’m glad Ty’s okay.” He wouldn’t admit how grateful he was that his mother was here. Not that he couldn’t handle being the point person for Ty, but it felt good to have backup and his mother was more than that—she was the boss in regards to medical stuff. “I’m glad you’re here, Mom. We need you. More than we ever realize.” He leaned in, kissing her cheek.
His mother smiled at him. “Good to hear, I guess.”
He rushed down the hallway. “Love ya!”
“Love you, too! Call and let us know how it went!”
“Okay!” He took the stairs down, not in the mood to wait for the elevator, and the stairs were faster anyway. Plus, he needed the adrenaline release. All morning he’d felt like it was the day of a Surf game. He was jittery and excited, ready to bust some heads. He grinned to himself. No head busting today, just busting out some pirouettes or whatever they were called. He laughed and felt ridiculous.
He rushed out the hospital door, searching for her red car, but he didn’t see it yet.
“Why did you block me?”
Boston stiffened. He knew that voice. He didn’t need her in his life right now.
Lana stood in the front of the hospital in all her model glory, wearing spiked heels, miniskirt, and tight red leather top. As usual, she’d applied full makeup with her pouty lips and fake lashes. Her long, blonde hair had been pulled back into a single ponytail at the top of her head, making her look like a real-life Barbie doll. He was
speechless.
She closed the distance between them, her phone out, clearly recording this interaction. “Answer me, Boston Brady,” she demanded in a whiny voice. “You unfriended me on all social media and blocked my calls. I want to know why.”
“Get out of here, Lana,” he growled.
She laughed, and it sounded like a witch laugh from The Wizard of Oz. “You didn’t even call me to let me know your brother was hurt. I had to find out from other posts about the amazing Brady brothers.” She scoffed. “Yeah, they’re amazing when they’re not ignoring you.”
Boston couldn’t believe he’d ever been with her. She was so different from Addison, so fake. Addison and Ty had been right—he’d lived in a fake world. “Lana, we’re done.” Determination pulsed through him. “Done. Now go.”
“Ah.” Lana’s face contorted into a horrific surprised look. “We’re not done, Boston. Not according to your Instagram post in the middle of the night.”
“Nice try.” He shook his head. “I deleted all of my social media. Haven’t been on any of them since …” Since Addison. Now where was she? He didn’t know where the tryout was, but the time was running short.
“Then what’s this?” She turned her phone to face him, and he saw that she wasn’t recording. The phone was like a weapon she was prepared to use against him. It had a post on his account: I need you, Lana!
With a growl, he closed the gap between them, ripped the phone out of her hand, and threw it to the ground. “I don’t care about your little ploy. I don’t care about your posts. I’m not a media crap show for you anymore. And my brother is definitely not a media crap show, so just go.”
“Ahh!” She bent to pick up her phone. “I swear if you broke it, I’m suing you.”
He didn’t have time for this. His eyes searched the street coming into the hospital, but he didn’t see Addison yet. “Whatever. Send a bill to my attorney.”
“Boston, you shouldn’t post things like that if you don’t mean them.” Her voice dripped with fake emotion.
“I haven’t posted anything. I told you that.”
“Are you sure?” said Lana, a bit of her wicked pettiness creeping into her voice. “Are you sure sure?”
“Look.” He unlocked his phone and scrolled to the page where his social media apps had been, and … The only app on the page was Instagram. How could that be? Boston was sure he’d deleted it. “No, no, no.” This was bad. This was really bad. He opened the app, went to his own page, and his heart sank into his gut. It was worse than he had anticipated.
“You know,” said Lana quietly, running a finger down his chest, “when you break up with a cunning woman and say nasty things about her on social media, you should probably change the lock code for your phone.”
Boston couldn’t believe she’d pulled off something like that. “When …? How …?”
“I won’t say it was easy, because it wasn’t.” She was smiling cruelly, enjoying this way too much. “It was Ty’s girlfriend who I saw with him on social media who gave me the idea. Luna. Lana. Luna, Lana. When I saw he was in the hospital, I knew it would be Myrtle Beach because you told me all about your plans together, so I caught a flight. I might have used a fake name at the desk—you know how Luna and Lana just sound so similar—to get his room number.”
She circled him, as smug as a slinking cat. Boston clenched his jaw and tried not to let his fury show.
“Imagine my surprise when I walked into Ty’s room and saw your phone lying there! Like you had left me a gift, you sweet, silly man.”
“My mom was in the room with him all night,” said Boston.
“Mommy’s a deep sleeper,” said Lana with a pout, coming to a stop right in front of him. “Now that you see that you will never, ever be able to hang with me in social media image battles, what do you say we make up?” She ran her fingernails along the back of his neck. “As you saw on your phone, you’ve already made the first gesture, and I’m ready to forgive and forget all the mean things you’ve been saying about me. Give me some sugar and we’ll go see that poor, sick baby brother of yours.”
Her fake lips pursed and came toward him.
“No,” said Boston. “I told you we’re done.”
“We’re not done,” said Lana with a lazy smile. “Not until I say we’re done.”
Boston stepped back again, out of her reach. “I never want to lay eyes on you again,” he said. “And if you try to go into Ty’s room again, I’ll have security drag you out of the building. Now excuse me; I have a date with a real woman.”
He turned his back on Lana for the last time ever.
Chapter 25
Addison finally made it through the detour and saw the hospital. Her phone rang, and she answered without looking at it. “Boston? You wouldn’t believe traffic—”
“It’s me, Shelly.”
“Oh, hi,” said Addison. “What’s up?”
“You need to pull over. Now.”
“One minute. I’m almost to the hospital. Boston’s at the curb waiting for me.” She could see him there in the distance, but he didn’t seem to have noticed her yet. A blonde woman in a red top was standing at the curb as well.
“Pull over now!” ordered Shelly. “I have to tell you something before he’s in the car.”
Addison checked her mirror, then pulled over at the curb. “It’s gotta be quick. I’m late.”
Shelly’s voice was cheerless. “I just sent an image. It’s from Boston’s Instagram. First thing he’s posted since you told me he deleted everything.”
When Addison pulled the phone away from her ear to look at it, a notification from Shelly popped up. With a trembling thumb, Addison opened the image.
It was a screenshot, and sure enough, it was from Boston’s Instagram account. The picture was dark, obviously taken at night, but it wasn’t hard to make out the ex, Lana, in the center of the picture. Maybe it was a selfie, maybe not, but she was sitting next to Ty’s hospital bed. Huge blonde hair. Red top.
The caption read: Family tragedy. So glad the love of my life came when I needed her most. #loveyouLana.
Addison wanted to throw up. Just last night at their practice, he had made her feel like she was the only woman for him. Tears clouded her eyes, but it was easy enough to make out the huge blonde hair and red dress of the woman standing by Boston at the front of the hospital.
Words were hard to force out, but Addison needed to be sure. “Is it legit?”
“Unfortunately, sweetie. I’m so sorry.”
The tears overflowed, but at least she could see. There was a gap in traffic, so she slammed the gear shift down and gunned it!
As she peeled out and drove right past the hospital, she slammed her hand to the steering wheel, avoiding looking over at Boston, who was obviously happy to have his fake life and fake woman back. The nerve of him making her wait at the curb for him!
She hated the fact he had kissed her so genuinely last night, only hours before being here with her. She hated herself even more for falling for him. And she hated the day she’d ever laid eyes on the man.
Chapter 26
As Boston stepped away from Lana, he saw a red car race past the hospital parking lot. The glare of the sun made it impossible to tell if Addison was in the car, but his gut told him the worst had happened.
Addison had seen the post.
“Who is that?” Lana burst out, her voice turning shrill. “Your girlfriend?”
Boston bolted into a run, kicking it into high gear toward his rental car.
“Come back!” Lana wailed. “I forgive you!”
Boston jumped into his car, his mind racing. He backed up and raced toward the exit. He didn’t have the slightest idea where the tryout was. He’d assumed he would go with her.
Speeding down the street toward the interstate, he watched for her car, but she was long gone. He told his phone to dial Addison. The call went to voicemail, instantly declined.
He cursed. Pulling to the side of the road,
he called again, but to no avail. This was worse than he’d thought. She’d definitely seen the post.
He wondered how he could find out where the tryout was. He didn’t have Christian’s number. But he had Devon’s.
He pressed it, and Devon answered on the first ring. “How’s Ty?”
“Oh, he’s fine.” Boston sighed. “Look, Devon, I …” He decided to just tell the truth. “My ex stole my phone and posted some lies from my Instagram account. I think Addison saw them. She went to the audition without me, but I don’t know where it is.”
“Me neither,” said Devon. “I’ll send you Christian’s number now.”
“Thanks.”
“Good luck!”
His phone dinged, and he saw Christian’s number. He dialed.
“Hello?”
“It’s Boston. Can you tell me where the audition’s at?”
Christian was silent for a second, then cursed. “What happened?”
“Just tell me where it’s at.”
“What did you do to her?”
“Nothing.”
“I’m not giving you anything until you tell me what happened.”
He slammed his hand to the steering wheel. “I don’t have time for this.” His face burned with humiliation; he’d been so stupid to give Lana any room to manipulate him.
Christian sighed. “Tick tock.”
“Fine. I was the hospital with my brother.”
“I heard about that, but he’s okay, right?”
“Yes. Anyway, I left my phone there overnight, and my ex got it and posted a false story from my Instagram saying we were back together.”
Christian blurted out, “But you’re not.”
“We are not,” insisted Boston. “Addison and I were making progress, though.”
“You’re so dead.” Christian sounded genuinely bummed for him.
“She’s dead in the water if I don’t get to the tryout. She went without me.”
