Taking one more deep breath, she climbed the short set of steps and walked onto the stage with a big wave and an even bigger smile. The hosts welcomed her with hugs and air kisses.
“It’s so great to see you again,” Danica Reynolds, the female host said, even though Brooke had never met her before this moment. “I just love your new album.”
“Thank you so much. I’m so proud of this album and can’t wait to share it with everyone,” Brooke replied with the fakest smile she’d ever mustered.
“We can’t wait to hear a song from it today,” said the co-host, Brad Turner. “And we also heard you have some big news to share with us.”
Brooke had to gulp past the lump that had formed in her throat. “I just might,” she teased.
“Well then, we better get out of the way and let you perform so you can share your news with us,” Danica squealed in a way that was unbecoming of anyone over the age of eight.
Brooke smiled again as they walked offstage, leaving her standing there alone to take in the immense crowd in front of her. Brooke had always felt butterflies before she performed, but it wasn’t ever anything she couldn’t handle. Ultimately, singing had started off as something fun, and when it had grown more serious, Brooke typically cared so little about the future of it she didn’t feel any kind of overwhelming anxiety. But today, there was a deeper emotional well inside of her that felt like it was close to bubbling over.
Her band struck the familiar chord of an up-tempo track from her new album. She let the music thrum through her as her four dancers took their places beside her. The words to “Got it Like That” tumbled out of her mouth on autopilot as her body moved to the choreography she’d been practicing nonstop since she came home. The more she danced, the more she got lost in the act of performing and was able to push her emotions behind her. The song ended with Brooke striking a pose onstage, two of her dancers holding her arms as she dipped her body back. They pulled her to her feet and left the stage as Brooke profusely thanked the applauding crowd.
She and her band let the audience have a moment to quiet down before they transitioned into her next song—a slower ballad. Brooke had practiced this song countless times, but she hadn’t let herself experience it. Until now.
As the opening line filtered out of her mouth, the words hit home in a way they hadn’t—or maybe she hadn’t let them—before. When she’d first recorded the song, they’d merely been words. But after all she’d experienced in the last few weeks, they were something much more.
You were a stranger from a faraway dream,
A kind of Prince Charming, who I loved sight unseen.
Just an idea I treasured and craved.
Simply an illusion that didn’t even have a name.
You’d slay my dragons,
You’d conquer my heart.
We’d go on adventures,
We’d never be apart.
But you weren’t real, boy.
You breathed only in my mind.
Until the day I saw you
And knew you were mine.
The lyrics poured out of her with a passion she’d never felt before. Because for once, the words that had been written for her actually applied to her. She figured many little girls dreamed they’d one day meet a man who’d be a game changer for them. Brooke was no exception. She’d spent hours picturing herself in an imaginary relationship that could save her from her family, her career…herself.
Her fingertips had skimmed over the reality of that relationship, but she hadn’t been smart enough to grasp it. And now it was gone. All she had left was this song, which she hadn’t even written yet but spoke her heart all the same.
Love at first sight isn’t real, I know this for sure.
But that doesn’t apply to us because we met before.
I knew you from my fantasies, I knew you from my dreams.
I knew before I met you that you were the one for me.
You’d slay my dragons,
You’d conquer my heart.
We’d go on adventures,
We’d never be apart.
But you weren’t real, boy.
You breathed only in my mind.
Until the day I saw you
And knew you were mine.
Brooke repeated the chorus again before hitting the final verse with a power she didn’t know she had. Without even meaning to, she was making this their song—hers and Cole’s. She knew that every time she sang it from that point forward, she’d think about the man who she’d always wished she’d meet but doubted she ever would. About the man who’d walked up to her in a gas station and asked if she’d needed a ride. A man who’d saved her from a predator in a bar but couldn’t save her from a future she didn’t want.
It didn’t register that she’d started crying until she sang the last notes and tasted the saltiness of her tears on her lips. The crowd in front of her blurred through the moisture, and she wasn’t sure if they were silent or if she’d been so in the moment that she’d blocked out all sound coming from them. Though she figured it would be pretty hard to hear anything over the screaming of her heart.
She dashed away the tears on her cheeks and did her best to come back to the moment. These clumsy emotions were Brooke Alba’s. Brooke Devereaux didn’t have time for them.
Before she knew it, the hosts were flanking her and congratulating her on her performance. The crowd was cheering again, and somewhere off to the side, she heard people chanting her name.
“That was amazing, Brooke. So much emotion. Is that song based on anyone in particular?” Danica asked as if they were trading gossip at a slumber party instead of in front of thousands of people.
And even though she wanted to deny it, Brooke was too raw to lie. “It reminds me of someone I used to know.”
“Someone special?” Danica prodded with a mischievous grin.
Brooke paused and took in the people surrounding them. She looked off into the wings and saw her parents staring at her with curiosity and maybe a little concern. Not for her well-being, of that Brooke was sure. But she had just bawled on national television, which she’d never done even once before. They probably thought she was losing her mind.
Brooke wasn’t sure she’d disagree with that assessment. “Yes,” she finally replied.
The single word reply must have held something in it that let the hosts know it wasn’t an avenue they should continue to walk down, because Brad quickly changed the subject. “Back to the big news you came here today to share. You ready to share it with the rest of us?”
Letting her gaze skate over the crowd again, Brooke remembered that she should probably be smiling when she announced that she was joining one of the biggest tours in the country. She felt her cheeks stretch into something she hoped didn’t look like a grimace. “I’m assuming you both heard about Jacoby Hale’s new tour?” she said with a teasing lightness that belied the riot of nerves that thrummed beneath her skin.
“We certainly have,” Danica gushed. “It’s set to be the hottest ticket of the year.”
“Well, I’m excited to announce that…” Brooke hesitated to swallow the rush of tangy saliva that flooded her mouth. This was the moment that would change everything. There’d been no doubt since she came home what she’d say in this moment, but now that it was time to actually say it, her lips refused to form the words. She cleared her throat and prepared to force the words out.
Her mouth opened to utter the words, when a commotion caught her attention. She looked over and blinked. Then blinked again. And again. Because there was no way what she was seeing was actually there. Or more accurately, who she was seeing.
“Brooke!”
She heard her name cut through the crowd as Cole broke through and settled along the metal barrier that separated the crowd from the stage. He rested his hands atop it and looked at her intently. He was there. He’d come.
But what did that mean? She didn’t need him to save her now. She’d needed him then—in Wyomin
g. Needed the support he seemed to be radiating from the crowd. But what good would that do her the next time it came almost a week late? No, Brooke couldn’t rely on Cole to save her.
But she sure as shit could rely on herself. “Yeah, I’m sure the tour’s going to be awesome. Hopefully it won’t sell out before I get to buy a ticket.”
The surprise that bloomed over the faces of the hosts was almost comical. Brad stuttered a few times as he clearly struggled to figure out where to go from there. “I, uh, so you…you’re not going to be on the tour with him?”
This time, Brooke looked over at her parents when she responded. “No. I’m not.” The anger was clear in their expressions, but Brooke didn’t care. It was freeing in a lot of ways. She’d thoroughly disappointed them on a national stage. There’d be no taking this one back, and that was fine with her.
She turned her head to look back at Cole and couldn’t help but laugh. Those fucking dimples got her every time.
Chapter Seventeen
When Cole had left the cemetery that day after visiting Jimmy, all he could think about was getting to Brooke. But he was instantly confronted with the issue of how to get to her. They’d never exchanged phone numbers, since she’d been using what Cole could only describe as a burner phone for the entirety of their time together, and the last thing they’d thought about when they’d parted ways was keeping in touch.
Then he remembered what she’d said about her appearance on What’s Up, America?. Cole had looked up the details and made a plan. He hadn’t had time to drive across the country to New York, so he’d left Mary Sue in a parking lot at the airport and gotten the first flight out. Upon landing, Cole had tried to figure out a way to reach out to Brooke, but there hadn’t been any way to get close to her.
Until her performance in front of the What’s Up, America? studio. Until he’d pushed his way through the throng of screaming teenagers. Until he’d been stopped dead in his tracks when he’d caught sight of the stage. Because when he’d seen her—and heard her—all the emotions he’d been struggling to keep in check seemed to melt and flood his entire being.
Her song was…beautiful. Just like she was as she sang it. The words sounded like they came from somewhere deep inside, and Cole was entranced by them. Everyone else in the crowd seemed to experience the same reaction, because the noise level dulled to a low murmur as people stared at the stage with rapt attention.
Even when Brooke finished the final line, the crowd remained still as if they wanted to remain in the moment for a bit longer. Cole hardly registered the hosts joining her on stage, but when he heard them mention the Jacoby Hale tour, he forced himself to move.
“Brooke,” he yelled as he shoved his way through the crowd.
She didn’t appear to have heard him as she responded to one of the hosts.
People in the crowd began to grumble as he forced his way past them, but he didn’t care. His focus was singular. “Brooke!”
This time she turned, and her head tilted slightly as her eyes widened. He made his way to the barrier and put his hands on it, contemplating hurtling his body over it so he could stop her from making the mistake he’d basically thrust her into a week ago. But as he watched her—how she stood up straighter, squared her shoulders, and held her head high—Cole felt a calmness move through him that he hadn’t felt in…maybe forever. He knew with certainty this was where he was supposed to be, but there was nothing more for him to do.
He’d come. The rest was up to her, just as it always should have been from the beginning of her career.
When Brooke said she wouldn’t be going on the tour with that bleach-blond poser Jacoby, Cole’s face nearly split in half with the force of his smile as he realized what Brooke was saying. His Princess was finally taking control of her life. Her eyes looked off stage when she confirmed her intention, but she snapped them back to him once she finished. And then she laughed. That crazy girl who’d stolen his heart on the road trip to nowhere was laughing on stage in front of millions of people, and he loved her even more for it.
The hosts were scrambling for things to say, but Brooke interrupted them. “Thank you so much for letting me perform for you today. If you don’t mind, I have one more thing I need to do.”
The hosts looked relieved that she gave them something to work with. “Of course. What is it?” the female host asked in a voice that was sickeningly sweet.
Brooke pointed into the crowd, right at Cole. “I need to go kiss that man and tell him it’s about damn time he got here.”
The hosts were taken aback for a second, but they both recovered quickly, obviously realizing what great TV this would make. “Don’t let us stop you,” the male host said as he swept a hand out toward the crowd.
Brooke didn’t waste a second. She hurried down the stairs off to one side and ran through the studio staff that filled the front of the stage.
The entire crowd faded into the background as Cole leaped over the barrier and ran toward Brooke. He half expected one of the many security guards to try to stop him, but not a single person put so much as a hand on him. The distance between them seemed to extend so much that Cole felt it would last forever. But no sooner did he have that thought than Brooke was nearly right in front of him. She leaped, and he caught her, spinning her around as her arms wound around his neck and his tightened around her waist.
Then he slowed, and they each pulled back slightly so they could look at one another. “You came,” she said, her voice alight with what sounded like both excitement and disbelief.
“This is where I was always supposed to be,” he replied.
“In New York?”
Cole smiled. “With you.”
Her answering smile met his in a kiss that deepened as soon as their lips connected.
Cole vaguely heard the collective “Aw” of the crowd, but it didn’t stop him. Nothing could have stopped him in that moment. He had the euphoric feeling of floating, like the two of them had transcended gravity and were hovering over the people on the street. Normally such a feeling would have been like a cold bucket of water—that kind of exposure making him vulnerable. But instead, Cole felt empowered by it, and it spurred him on, causing him to tangle his fingers in the hair at the back of her head and devour her mouth.
Their tongues danced, and Cole could almost hear the music between them. The thrum of all they’d been through in such a short time finally finding its rhythm.
Eventually they slowed and awareness of their surroundings came back to them.
“Maybe we should get out of here,” Brooke whispered.
“Best idea you’ve ever had.” Cole gave her one more quick kiss before setting her back down on her feet. He looked around in an attempt to figure out how the hell they could get out of there, but a woman wearing a headset appeared out of nowhere and directed them to a tunnel that led inside. He gripped Brooke’s hand tightly as they walked, making sure nothing could separate them. They were soon in what Cole assumed was Brooke’s dressing room.
Brooke turned toward him and slid her hands around his waist. “I feel like I should be mad at you.”
“Well, you’ve been mad at me for most of the time we’ve known each other, so there’s not much new there.”
She tried to fight her smile and lost. “Shut up.”
Cole smiled back but then grew serious. “I thought I was doin’ the right thing. I really did. You deserve someone who has his shit together. A career, direction, something. But I can’t let anyone else have you. You’re mine. So if I don’t deserve you, I’ll just have to become someone who does.”
“I think I deserve someone who would show up at a live performance in the middle of New York and make out with me on national TV, all so I wouldn’t make the biggest mistake of my life. That guy deserves me plenty.”
“Oh. Okay then. Pressure’s off,” Cole teased.
“Such a doofus,” she murmured before kissing him.
Cole wasn’t sure how long they stayed like that
, but it wasn’t nearly long enough. They were interrupted by the sound of the door being thrown open and a woman clearing her throat.
“Just what do you think you’re doing, Brooke?”
To her credit, Brooke didn’t pull away. She pressed one more kiss to Cole’s mouth before looking deeply into his eyes. “I’m kissing the boy I love.”
Cole didn’t know how to describe what zapped through him, but it was warm and filled him from head to toe.
“What are you talking about?” the woman, who Cole assumed was Brooke’s mom, snapped. “How can you love him? You barely even know him.”
Brooke’s head whipped toward her mother. “Oh yeah. I forgot that you already know who this is. I’m sure Dean told you all about him.”
“It’s my job to keep you safe, both as your mother and as your agent. You were about to make a huge mistake.”
Cole didn’t miss the way her mom’s eyes glanced over him with disdain as she said the last word.
“Not that you avoided making one anyway. We’re going to have to work double-time to undo the mess you made.” Brooke’s mom crossed her arms over her chest and glared lasers at them.
Brooke wrapped an arm around Cole and leaned into his side. “There’s nothing to undo. I’m not going on tour. I’m not recording any more albums. I’m done.”
Brooke’s mom let out a bitter laugh. “I think you’re forgetting that that’s not entirely up to you. You have contracts to honor, and—”
“No,” Brooke said firmly. “I had a contract to deliver one more album, which has already been recorded. I never signed on for the Jacoby tour, and there’s nothing else pending. It’s the perfect time to make a clean break.”
“What about the contract you have with your father and me?”
Misadventures with a Country Boy Page 15
