by Shandi Boyes
"Once we have everything on the table, I promise there’ll be no secrets between us ever again."
When Emily nods, I exhale a big breath before the confession purge begins. “Jacob has been fighting in an illegal underground fight circuit the past two years. He was fighting in a professional circuit, but was banned from competing when he was charged with assault and battery.”
Emily’s pupils widen. She's as stunned about Jacob’s fighting career as I was when I found out. He’s always been more of a lover than a fighter. “Why was he charged with battery? Cage fighting might be scary, but it’s legal.”
I swish some spit around my mouth, hoping it will ease out words I swore never to speak. “Because he beat up Lola’s ex-boyfriend, Callum.”
Her eyes flicker as she struggles to work out why Jacob would hurt any of Lola’s previous squeezes. When she fails to find a reason, she locks her moisture-filled eyes with mine. “Why would he do that?”
I reposition her so she’s straddling my lap, needing to peer in her eyes while telling her news I know will devastate her. “Because Callum assaulted Lola—more than once.”
Anger sluices my veins as memories of what happened to Lola roll through my head. There’s nothing I hate more than pathetic scum who put their hands on women. They're the worst of the fucking worst.
“What?”
I wipe away the tears sitting high on Emily’s cheeks. “Jacob noticed Lola flinched a lot when they first met, but you know how stubborn Lola is? Anytime he tried to bring it up, she shut both him and his questions down.” Emily nods, more than aware how opinionated and strong her big sister is. “A couple of weeks after we started dating, Callum turned up at Mavericks looking for Lola. He rough-handled her in front of Maggie. After Jacob took Lola home, I drove him to Callum’s house.”
“Because you wanted Jacob to hurt Callum, like you wish you could have done to Zander?”
I nod. “But this was different. Callum physically hurt Lola, but since she refused to press charges, Jacob had no choice but to take matters into his own hands. I would have tried to talk him out of it if I had known he was fighting professionally, but he kept it a secret from everybody, including me.”
Emily rubs at the groove between my brows, comforting me as I should be her. “What happened to Callum?”
“He got his ass whooped.” I laugh a tormented chuckle. “Then he had Jacob charged with first-degree battery. Jacob plead guilty. Because it was his first conviction, he got two years’ probation. His conviction is the reason he lied when I beat up the guy who drugged you. His lawyer tried to say Callum hit him first. Jacob wouldn’t have any of it. He wouldn’t give Callum the satisfaction of thinking he laid a hand on him.”
Emily remains quiet as she absorbs the information I’ve just divulged. After a beat, she lays her head on my chest. “Although I hate what happened to Jacob, I’m glad he stood up for Lola.”
Emily and Lola weren’t overly close growing up, but they’ve been working hard on building a better relationship since Emily left for college. Emily will most likely be upset she’s finding this out from me instead of Lola, but Lola refuses to talk to anyone about what happened. I’m not even sure if she knows I know what happened to her. That’s how quiet she keeps her private business.
“There’s still more to confess, Em.”
Emily peers up at me with wide tearful eyes. “More.” She only says one word, but the ones she doesn’t speak are the loudest. She’s unsure if she can handle much more.
With that in mind, I confess to something more lighthearted than the original admission I was planning. “Do you remember Jacob teaching Lola how to drive in the state forest near his house?”
Emily’s brows stitch before she faintly nods. She has no clue where I’m going with this.
“Well, I was in the black truck that—”
“Oh my god!” She slaps me on the arm two times. “You asshole. Why would you do that?” The giggle that comes with her question weakens the intensity of it. “Whose truck were you driving, anyway?”
“I wasn’t driving; Nick was. It was his truck.” I grimace. “The same truck he drove Jenni to the hospital in this morning.”
She shakes her head in disbelief. “So the entire event was staged?”
“Yeah, but Jacob was supposed to be driving, and I didn’t know you were in the car until it was too late. That’s what Jacob and I fought about that night.”
“I still don’t understand why you would want to do that? What benefit would you get from scaring the living daylights out of us?”
I’m unsure whether to protect my crotch or my face while admitting, “It’s about the adrenaline rush. Jacob swears his bravery gets rewarded in the bedroom when he saves his date from the naughty black truck.”
Emily gags, sickened at the lengths some guys go to to get a girl to sleep with them. “That’s disgusting!” She whacks my chest two times, but they’re not the cause for the panic bubbling in my blood. It’s what she says next: “I’m also telling Lola.”
I stiffen. Jacob will kill me when he finds out about all the secrets I’ve confessed, but I promised to no longer lie to Emily, and I plan on keeping my promise.
With that in mind, I get back to the real reason we’re here, and the person at the forefront of our break up. Before a syllable can escape my lips, a much more urgent sound rumbles from Emily’s midsection. It’s the loud grumble of her hungry tummy.
“Sorry. I’m starving. I haven’t eaten since lunchtime yesterday.” She stands before pivoting to face me. “Can we take a raincheck until we’ve had something to eat?”
Although there’s no doubt she’s starving; her stomach’s growls are unmissable, a glint in her eyes exposes she isn’t up for any more confessions today. She’s not only reached her limit, but she needs time to process the ones I’ve hit her with so far.
“Burgers and milkshakes?”
When excitement flares through her eyes, I jump up and grab the blanket. By the time we’ve climbed the wooden stairwell of Bronte’s Peak, my hunger is as paramount as Emily’s. I’m seconds from chewing off my own arm.
As we walk to a café at the side of the parking lot, I notice a handful of people peering at me in recognition. They snap my picture with their phone and giggle with glee, but they don’t approach me.
Thank fuck.
I’ll forever love and appreciate my fans, but I’ve just won Emily back, so I’m not ready to throw her into the craziness of my life just yet.
We’re seated in a booth in the middle of the diner by a cheerful waitress with crazy blonde locks and a huge smile. Since we’ve eaten here multiple times before, we give her our food order at the same time she jots down what drinks we would like. As she walks away to prepare our milkshakes, Emily gestures for me to remove my cap. I hesitate. Without my disguise, I'll most likely be recognized.
When the love in Emily’s eyes revs up to a level I haven’t seen before, I can’t deny her request. Within half a second of removing my cap, whispers circulate from the tables surrounding us. A few patrons shyly wave, and a handful look close to peeing their pants, but unlike the paparazzi who follow me around LA, they respect my right to privacy.
Over the next fifty minutes, Emily and I talk like we’ve never been apart. She updates me on everything happening with her at school, and how she’s been taking extra classes so she can graduate early. I rib her about how “dorky” she is, but in reality, my chest puffs with pride, smug as fuck that I got a beautiful and smart girl who isn’t afraid to get her hands dirty.
Emily would never expect anything to be handed to her on a silver platter. She works hard for everything she has. That’s why as much as I'd love for her to come on the road with me, I’ll never ask her to do that. She craves independence, and whether she is in a relationship or not, she has the right to achieve that. I just need to be more flexible so we can work around her school schedule. When she graduates, the world will be our oyster.
On
ce we finish eating, the waitress delivers our bill to the table. I place my credit card in the leather wallet before handing it back to her. She cracks it open as she strolls away from our table. Not even a second later, her squeal gives me permanent hearing loss. “I knew it was you!”
When she twirls around to make her way back to our table, I dip my chin in greeting, but try to simmer down her eagerness. If she doesn’t settle down, I’m seconds from being lynched by a mob.
“Hi, nice to meet you, but can you keep it down? I don’t want anyone to know I’m here.”
Emily smiles throughout our exchange. She thinks it's cute for me to be recognized, but she doesn’t realize how quickly the tides change. Once one fan gets a little eager, they all get a little eager.
“Sure, no worries.” The waitress runs her hand down her apron as she takes in some big breaths. “But can you please sign an autograph for me? My best friend Michelle will never believe I served you if I don’t give her proof. She’s weird like that.”
“Sure." I laugh, amused at her reference to her friend. Marcus is like that as well. "Do you have anything in particular you'd like me to sign?"
After nodding, she skips away from our table to ring up our bill and gather something for me to sign. Once she’s out of eyesight, I return my focus to Emily. The jealousy I’m expecting to see in her eyes isn’t there. Nothing but happiness is radiating from her gorgeous light brown eyes. “How often does that happen?”
I take a moment to bask in the pride beaming out of her before answering, “Too often.”
Her eyeroll isn’t even halfway around when the waitress appears like magic. I jump out of my skin, startled by her nimbleness. “Here’s your receipt, and if you could you sign this, I’ll love you forever?”
After taking in the name on the tag of her mock-seventies diner uniform, I scribble an inscription onto her Rise Up CD.
To Molly
Thanks for your fantastic service today!
Noah Taylor
Chapter 36
Emily
My excitement doubles when I watch Noah sign Rise Up’s debut album cover for Molly. Although he expressed dislike for how often this happens, he’ll never tire of his fans—especially the ones who have followed his journey from Mavericks to MTV.
When Noah hands Molly her CD, she smiles before hugging it close to her chest. I’m sure he wrote something more than just his name. Noah has a knack for making people feel special, which is endearing considering how poorly he was treated as a child. I guess that explains why he got caught up in the hype of the entertainment industry. For years, his mother told him he was worthless, so the endless praise he’s received from reporters and fans the past five months is unfamiliar but reassuring. After years of being pulled down, who wouldn’t want to ride the high they worked so hard for?
I’ve always been a hard worker. It’s a trait I learned from my mom. She works tirelessly to provide for her family, and I want to do the same for mine, but only now am I realizing my stubbornness is hurting my relationship with Noah.
I hate the idea of being “kept,” but Noah and I can’t continue on the path we’re on now, or there’ll be no “us.” Noah’s weekends are booked with obligations required for the band to achieve the success they deserve, and my school has the standard Monday to Friday schedule. I don’t know an immediate solution for our predicament, but once things settle down, Noah and I will buckle down and work something out, because our relationship deserves more thought than we’ve been giving it the past few months.
I’m dragged from my thoughts when Noah stops to stand beside me. “You alright? You appear deep in thought.”
“Yeah, I’m good. Just thinking.”
“About...?”
I smile, loving the touch of panic in his voice. “Us, and where we go from here.”
He smirks in a way that makes my knees weak. “Did you come up with anything good?”
“I have a few ideas up my sleeve.” I give him a flirty wink before standing. “But we should probably take this elsewhere... I’d hate for you to get arrested for public indecency.”
Molly offers Noah a friendly wave when we pass her on the way out, but he doesn’t pay her any attention. He’s too busy hiding the bulge in his jeans to act cordial. It’s not his fault he’s hard. The sexual tension between us has been so intense, it overcooked the eggs on our burgers. Then add the suggestiveness in my tone, and someone was bound to get horny. Mercifully, I can hide the excitement thrumming through my veins. Noah can’t.
Some of my sass is squashed when we break through the double doors of the café. I can barely see two feet in front of me because of the bright lights being shoved into my face. They’re so blinding, I doubt I’ll see anything but white circles for the next week.
As my arm darts up to protect my eyes, questions are screamed at Noah.
“Noah, who’s your date?”
“Noah, how long are you back in town for?”
“Is this the person you declared to love on MTV last night?”
“Noah, this way, Noah?”
I startle when I’m clutched from the side by a sturdy pair of hands. My panic recedes when I recognize the scent of the person holding me. It’s Noah. “Keep your head down and don’t say anything.”
He uses his leather jacket as a curtain to shelter us from the paparazzi lights while weaving us through the swarm of men double my size and age. I can’t see anything but the gravel at my feet, but I don’t need to see to know the paparazzi are following our every move. Their repeated questions are evidence enough, much less the way they push and shove me as they try to get to Noah.
Relief fills me when the sidesteps of Noah’s truck enter my vision a few minutes later. After opening the passenger door, not without the shove of several paparazzi, Noah helps me inside. The smell of his heated skin smacks me in the face when he clips my seatbelt into place.
Once he has me buckled in, he drapes his jacket over my head, jumps down from the cab, then slams my door shut. Cameras click like crazy, the paparazzi grateful his face has finally been exposed. They hone in on him, their eagerness to get the perfect shot stepping over an acceptable level.
I can’t see a damn thing under his leather jacket, but I’m confident Noah has wrangled his way through when his driver’s side door flings open a few seconds later. I’d never mistake the grumbling under his breath when he’s frustrated. I don’t know if he realizes he does it, but it’s super cute.
Not long after the motor kicks over, I hear the gearshift crunch into reverse before Noah’s fingertips tickle my nape. “Move, you fucking idiot!”
He honks three times before gravel crunching under tires sounds through my ears. The speed I reached in Jenni’s car this morning is nothing on Noah’s pace when he flattens his foot to the floor. We race out of the parking lot at the speed of a rocket. It’s both exciting and scary.
We travel for a few minutes in silence before Noah eases up on the gas pedal. “You can come out now.”
When he tugs his jacket off my head, I remove the strands of hair stuck to my temples before turning my eyes to him. It doesn’t take a genius to realize he is angry. His jaw is ticking, and I hear his teeth grind over the healthy purr of his motor.
I’m dying to ease his agitation, but since I don’t want to scare him like I did months ago, I use words instead of actions. “Are you okay?”
He scrubs the stubble on his chin. “Yeah, I’m just trying to figure out how they knew I was home?” He tightens his grip on the steering wheel as his face reddens with frustration. “They never leave me alone, but I hoped they’d dial back the obsessiveness when I’m not attending public events.” He huffs, his eyes rolling. “Clearly, I’m a fucking idiot.”
“It’s frustrating, but try and think of it from their side. They’re just doing the job they’re paid to do?”
Noah throws back his head and laughs. Considering the circumstances, it’s either the most beautiful noise I’ve ever heard
or the craziest. “Only you would defend the paparazzi, Em.”
“I’m not defending them; I just don’t know how else to explain their crazy tactics.”
“Crazy would work. Crazy is good.”
I whack him in the arm, unappreciative of the mirth in his tone.
After rubbing his arm, feigning injury, he winks. “I love you, Beautiful.”
Such simple words, but their importance is unsurpassed. He has called me beautiful since the day we started dating. Even though it’s conceited for me to say, I love my nickname.
“I love you too.”
You have no idea how hard it is not to slide across the bench and plant my lips on his when dimples pop into his cheeks. He's smiling his panty-wetting grin, yet I can't do a damn thing about it. Thank god Jacob's house is only around the corner because I'm not strong enough for this. The chemistry between us has been insane today, but since we were in public, we've kept our usually high level of PDA on the down-low. It's killing me, and that's putting it nicely.
My eyes stray to Noah when he pulls his truck down Jacob’s driveway. It’s not because I’m hopeful I’m seconds away from having my every wish granted; it’s because Noah is yawning. As he parks next to Jenni’s car, I take in the dark circles plaguing his eyes and the low hang of his eyelids. He looks exhausted.
“Did you sleep last night?”
Guilt clutches my heart when he shakes his head. It's nearly two in the afternoon.
“Not at all?”
“No, Em, not at all. I needed to fix the mistakes I’d made before I worried about sleeping.”
When he lets out another yawn, I climb down from his truck. “Time for bed, Mister.”
His chuckle bounces around the interior of his truck before he joins me outside. Not even his laugh is the same since he’s so tired.
In silence, he walks us through Jacob's vacant house, his steps urgent. When we enter his room, he spins around to fix the lock into place. The click is still ringing in my ears when he creeps up behind me to plaster his front against my back. I fail to stifle a moan when I feel how thick he is. His cock is bulging against the zipper in his jeans.
