Next In Line: A Cake Series Novel

by J. Bengtsson

  “Have you put a tracking device on my phone?”

  “Yes, Quinn. It’s called fans, and you put a tracking device on yourself. You’re like a walking bullseye. All I have to do is type your name into Twitter and I can follow you all over town.”

  “Well…shit.” The word just slipped out. I glanced back at Noah. “I meant poo.”

  A smile spread across his face. “But you said the other one.”

  “But you didn’t hear it,” I said, trying to use the force to direct his mind.

  “Yes, I did.”

  “No, you didn’t.”

  Jess stopped the childish duel with a swish of her hand.

  “Are you still there?” Tucker asked.

  “Yes, sorry. Jess and I picked her son up at his after-school program and went to dinner.”

  “I know.”

  “I find it creepy that you know that.”

  “Don’t be. Pretty much anyone under thirty knows where you are. Listen, Quinn, I know having the spotlight on you and not Jake is a new thing, but you need to be more careful. For example: dinner. I could have called ahead. Got you in a back door, found a private corner.”

  “Chili’s has a back door?”

  “You know what I mean. I’m used to dealing with excitable fans—I managed a boy band, for god’s sake—but I can’t help you unless I know where you are and where you’re going.”

  “Okay. Sorry.”

  “So where are you going?”

  I paused. I knew where I wanted to go, but that didn’t mean it was where we were going to go. “I don’t know.”

  “Quinn!” He tsked.

  “Seriously—it’s up in the air.”

  Jess eyed me, mouthing ‘Who is it’?

  I mouthed back, ‘My manager, Tucker.’

  ‘What does he want?’

  I ended our mime sesh. “He wants to know where we’re going, and I don’t really know.”

  “Where do you want to go?” she asked, a raise of her brow letting me know she was open to suggestions.

  I eyed her, letting her know I thought her place sounded dope.

  “Would you like to come over and hang with us for a while?” she asked.

  I glanced at Noah, then back at her. “Are you sure?”

  “Sure, I’m sure. Noah, don’t you have a fun game from your aunt Andrea you want to play with Quinn?”

  “Yeah! It’s going to be awesome!”

  I flinched. By the way too excited expression on Jess’s face, I knew it would be the opposite of fun. “I’m not going to like this game, am I?”

  “No. You are not.” Jess laughed, taking a glance in the rearview mirror before gently swiping my thigh with her finger, her subtle way of giving me hope that tonight might go my way after all.

  “Quinn,” Tucker said my name in the phone.

  “Oh, sorry. Forgot you were still there. We’re going to Jess’s.”

  “All right. Just do me a favor. If it looks like people are following you, call me, and I’ll send a security guy out there.”

  “I really doubt that will be necessary.”

  “You’d be surprised, Quinn. After the whole bus Romeo and Juliet thing, you’ve got a target on your back. Don’t get me wrong—from a PR point of view, the entire stunt was pure genius. And it was all caught on film, every adorable cutesy word you two spoke to each other. Hell, I’m the least romantic guy in the world, and even I got a flush. But now that you and your lady friend have entertained a nation, you’ll have to deal with the starry-eyed fallout of your actions.”

  “Oh boy, sounds fun,” I reflected.

  “Oh yes, it surely does,” he agreed.

  “I’ll keep my phone on.”

  “Wonderful. That would be the smart thing to do. And, Quinn, as things progress through the evening, if you could just send me a quick text and let me know where you’ll be spending the night, that would be swell.”

  Yep. There was no other way to interpret his request. My manager had just asked for a high-tech sock on the door.

  “Will do.”

  I hung up and then turned to flash her a thumbs-up.

  “I don’t know if I like that smile,” Jess said. “You look like an anime cartoon. What did he say?”

  If it had just been the two of us, I would have had a frank discussion with her about the spectacle our reunion had caused, but as the uncle of many little human sponges, I’d learned to keep my explanations PG-friendly.

  “So, fun news,” I said, raising the excitement to pee-the-pants levels. “It seems that our bus reunion was conveniently recorded by your awesome passengers, Jess. And then, not to be outdone, Noah here, through his very energetic soliciting at the restaurant, has made us all—you, me, and the little man himself—internet stars.”

  I shook my fists in the air and cheered. “Yay!”

  Noah, instantly picking up on the excitement but not the sarcasm in my words, yelled. “Whoa, cool!” His legs pumped up and down, kicking the back of my seat.

  “Quinn?” Jess’s fake smile was as big and animated as mine now. “What’s going on?”

  My voice was warped by the sheer wattage of my grin. “It seems we’ve become the number one target of your buddies.”

  “My buddies, you say?” she asked, flashing me that counterfeit smile.

  “Yes, the super-duper fun paparazzi.” I raised my arms in the air and did a little jiggy dance, bringing down the roof. “Isn’t that the best news ever, Jess?”

  “Wah-hooey-woo!” Noah pumped his fists right along with me.

  “Wah-hooey-woo!” I mimicked. “Come on, Jess. Isn’t this sooo fun?”

  She laughed, shaking her head. “My god. What have I gotten myself into?”

  “Strap in, you lucky lady, you,” I hollered. “You’re going for a ride.”

  22

  Jess: Play for Me

  What happened to my conflict? What happened to protecting Noah at all costs? What happened to my dignity? I’d let Quinn stroll back into my life, and now he basically ruled it. Maybe if he wasn’t so hot. Or so fun. Or so hot. Oh, I already mentioned that one. But it was true. If I’d thought Quinn was female catnip before, he was a hardcore heroin overdose for me now. It was like, Noah who? All I could think when I looked at my child was ‘Is it your bedtime yet?’ Make no mistake, once that kid was tucked away for the night, Quinn would be on his back. Or me on mine. Oh, god! What was I saying?

  I needed to beat myself with a Swiffer mop for even thinking about moving this thing with Quinn forward. Noah comes first. Yes, of course he did. Noah. Yep, he was just the best…love the kid… but, okay, just hear me out. What if Quinn stayed? What if we fell madly in love, got married, and popped out a few more McKallisters for his clan? He would then be a permanent fixture in Noah’s life and not just his mom’s ultimate fantasy. Well, then I’d be putting Noah first. What a fabulous mom I’d be. I mean, just look at those two. I smiled to myself as I eavesdropped on their conversation from the kitchen where I was cutting up Noah’s nighttime snack.

  “I saw you on Next in Line.”

  “Ah, man.” Quinn sighed. “Gotta tell ya, Noah, not my finest moment.”

  “Mom said it was the best song she’s ever heard. She plays it a lot.”

  “Does she?” He looked my way, but I quickly averted my gaze because of… the eavesdropping and all.

  Noah continued with his twenty questions. “Do you play in concerts?”

  “Not like full-on concerts yet, but I might have a tour coming up in September. Still trying to figure it all out. But it won’t be an arena tour or anything.”

  Quinn’s explanation went straight over Noah’s head, but that didn’t stop his follow-up question. “Why not?”

  “Why not? Because I’m still like a baby fish getting eaten by the big fish.”

  “When will you be a big fish?”

  “That’s a good question. I have to prove myself first.”

  “How do you do that?”

  “
I’ll let you know when I figure it out.”

  “When you’re a big fish, are you going to eat the little ones?”

  Quinn laughed. “I haven’t decided yet. Probably. Would you?”

  “Yeah. Probably,” Noah agreed.

  “Why?”

  “Because I like to eat fish.”

  Quinn dropped back in his chair laughing. “Little dude, I’m not sure if we’re talking about the same thing.”

  I loved the way Quinn interacted with Noah. He didn’t talk down to him; he showed him respect. I’m sorry, but it was ovary-busting.

  “Do you ever get scared on stage?” Noah asked.

  “No. I get scared off-stage, though.”

  “Really? Why?”

  “Because I’m not as comfortable on my own when it’s just me. But in front of the lights, with the audience cheering and the guitars blaring… yeah, that’s my idea of heaven.”

  “I want to do that someday too.”

  Quinn knuckled Noah. “Right on, dude. I didn’t know you liked music.”

  “I don’t like it that much now. But I wanna be rich like you, so I’m going to learn it.”

  Priorities, I chuckled to myself. My son had a life plan. Good for him.

  “If that’s your goal, I hate to break it to you, but I’m barely making rent,” Quinn said. “Like, what’s your definition of rich?”

  “Can you buy an Xbox?”

  “I think I might be able to swing that.”

  “What about an elephant?”

  “An elephant?” Quinn asked. “Why would I want to buy an elephant?”

  “So you could ride it to work.”

  “Or I could leave my elephant at home and drive my car to work. That way I wouldn’t have to stop and pick up dump-truck-sized turds when my elephant crapped all over the freeway.”

  Noah collapsed into a pile of giggles, helped in part by Quinn’s laughter.

  If I’d thought Quinn was irresistible before, this conversation with my son sealed the deal. I was in love.

  “If you could buy anything in the whole world,” Quinn asked him once they’d both settled down, “what would you buy? And don’t say elephant.”

  “I would buy”—Noah put his finger to his mouth—“jewelry for my mom.”

  What? My heart swelled. Of anything he could have said, that was by far the sweetest. I stepped behind the wall so as not to let them see me swoon.

  “Really? Not an Xbox for yourself? Why?”

  “Because my mom likes pretty things, but she can’t buy them because she has to spend all her money on me.”

  “Huh. Sounds like your mom really loves you.”

  “Yeah, she’s the best mom ever.”

  Quinn high-fived my son. “You’re a cool dude, Noah. I like you.”

  I dropped back against the wall, completely sidelined by the heartwarming interaction between the two. Noah’s answer was proof enough that my policy of putting him first had been sound. He was a loving kid, and with any luck, he might grow up to be a great man. That conversation proved to all the naysayers out there that I could do it on my own… but how nice would it be not to have to? Was it so outrageous a thought that I could have it all? That Noah could have it all?

  Grabbing his bowl of apples, I walked back out to the boys only to find Quinn and Noah each standing on their own individual chairs.

  “Wow. Okay, guys,” I said. “I can’t think of any other reason for the two of you to be up on those chairs unless there’s a mouse on the floor. So I’m going to go back into the kitchen and scream.”

  “We’re playing hot lava, Jess,” Quinn called out. “And it’s coming your way.”

  My eyes widened at the news of a natural disaster materializing in my living room. I set the apples down and jumped onto the chair with Noah. We moved around the room on chairs and pillows and coffee tables until the three of us collapsed into a pile on the sofa, laughing and winded. It might not have seemed like much—a simple, silly game—but this right here was my dream come true. Without thinking, I cupped Quinn’s face and kissed him. It was spur of the moment and stupid, but sometimes life just needed to be risked in that way.

  “Blech,” Noah articulated, complete with retching noises.

  I grabbed my son and proceeded to drown him in a sea of kisses, making sure not to miss even one of the cute little freckles that inexplicably poked through his tanned complexion.

  “Wait a minute,” Quinn said, spying something across the room. “You have a guitar?”

  “It’s my dad’s. When I was a kid, he used to play it for me. He was an amateur and only knew a couple of songs, but I’ve held onto it all these years, hoping someday he’d play it for me again.”

  “Do you think he’d mind?” Quinn asked, already headed over to grab it.

  “You saw my dad. He’s got bigger things on his mind.”

  Quinn returned to the spot beside me with the guitar in hand. He plucked one string and a puff of dust floated up. “Nice to see you wipe it down once in a while.”

  “I haven’t cleaned it in all the years I’ve been holding on to it.”

  Quinn waved the now-airborne particles from his face. “Yeah, I can tell.”

  As Quinn twisted and turned the metal heads on my father’s guitar, he patiently explained to Noah how everything worked, even trying to get him to use his ears to hear if something was out of tune. I smiled, watching them work together for a common goal. To think how many kids had this gift every day—fathers who cared enough to pass their wisdom on.

  Quinn began to play, the song an extension of him as his fingers moved effortlessly over the strings. Such ease. Such beauty. The tendrils of his music wrapped themselves around me and I tingled, imagining his hands drawing skillfully across my own skin.

  “I have an idea,” I said, standing up and pulling a protesting Noah off the couch after Quinn’s impromptu concert was complete. “Let’s get you all ready for bed, and then maybe instead of a bedtime story, we can get Quinn to sing you that song from the Next in Line performance.”

  Quinn’s eyes flickered with what I could only assume was the memory of what had happened the last time I’d heard that song. It had ended up with me on my back and him between my legs. And in all honesty, it would probably end that way again.

  Noah took longer than usual to calm down, and that had everything to do with Quinn. He didn’t want to miss any of the fun. I couldn’t blame him because neither did I. It was only after Quinn promised to see him again that Noah finally lay down and fell asleep. But it wasn’t enough for me to know that he was in the lullaby stages of sleep. No, my kid had to be full-on into the deep stages of REM sleep before I dared go back out to the musical stud in my apartment.

  I quietly shut Noah’s door and made my way into the living room, lovingly decorated in a combination of beach décor, Noah’s various art projects, and framed photos. Quinn was standing near my front door, a photo swiped off my entry table in his hand.

  “What are you looking at?” I asked, wrapping my arms around him from behind, already feeling uncommonly comfortable laying my head against his back.

  “Jess and Noah,” he said, replacing that photo and picking up another. “Jess and Noah.” And another. “Jess and Noah. It’s just the two of you. No other family. No other friends. No father for Noah.”

  “There’s an explanation for that: it’s just Jess and Noah.”

  “Is his dad NL from the heart in the mini-golf castle?”

  “Yes. His name is Nick Ledger.”

  “And you were pregnant during the burglary, and the juvenile hall, and the high school shunning?”

  “Unbeknownst to me, but yes.”

  “So, Nick’s not in your life at all?”

  “He’s around, sort of, but only when he wants to be, which isn’t often. I used to try to force it, but he just doesn’t want to know his son. It’s heartbreaking.”

  “Does he at least pay child support?”

  “Not in a couple o
f years, no.”

  Quinn shook his head, upset for me. It was nice that someone was. It took two to tango, but I was the only one still dancing.

  I took the photo out of his hand, set it down, and led him to the kitchen table. “Sit.”

  Once we’d both settled in, I finally explained. I told Quinn about Noah’s accident and his insistence that my past boyfriend loved him and the way his father had forsaken him in his time of need. “I knew he’d bond with you. Who wouldn’t? You’re an amazing guy. But look at your life. It’s big. It’s crazy. You have this amazing future right in front of you. And then look at me. Compared to you, I’m small and insignificant. It doesn’t take a big leap of the imagination to assume I’d be a passing phase for you. And if it had just been my heart on the line, I would’ve rolled the dice and risked it all, but it’s my baby’s heart too. I couldn’t let you crush it. Do you understand? It was never about disrespecting you and always about protecting my child.”

  Quinn rose from his chair, laying his body across the table to reach my lips with his own. He dispensed a series of short, sweet pecks between the words he spoke. “You’re not small. You’re not insignificant. You’re brave and funny and exciting. Any guy would be lucky to have you. And I understand why you made the decision you did not to text me back. I can’t say I blame you. I’ll be honest with you, Jess, when I saw Noah, my first instinct was to bolt.”

  I kept my expression neutral despite fighting off the feeling of impending doom. “It’s a lot, Quinn. I get it. And it’s obviously not what you signed up for.”

  “No,” he agreed. “But am I what you signed up for? A McKallister? I know my backstory isn’t a slam dunk either.”

  “Please—I’m sure you’ve never suffered with the ladies because of your lineage.”

  “No. But you’re not just any lady. I can tell it freaks you out.”

  He wasn’t wrong. But it wasn’t because of his family’s past; it was because of his family’s present. They were like royalty, and I was… well… me.

  “I just have doubts they would accept me. I mean, what would they think of you dating a woman with a child?”

  “I don’t know. I’ve never dated a woman with a child. Uncomplicated, remember?”