This One Moment (16 page)

When Pushing Limits had first signed with LS Records, we were told what was expected of us to ensure the band's success. “Keep out of trouble” might've been stressed a few dozen times. And each time they'd straightened out another one of my screwups, we were given the same lecture. I swear those four words played on repeat mode in my head during my dreams and my nightmares. But that still didn't change anything.

All those times, I'd been the fall guy. The guy who protected those I cared about, most notably the other members of the band.

This time was different.

This time the fault was all mine.

My phone played the opening of Bon Jovi's “Living on a Prayer” from the nightstand. Hailey was in the bathroom, drying her hair. I answered the phone instead of letting it go to voicemail, which would've been the preferred option given what I was about to tell the label's PR person. “Hello?”

“Nolan, this is Jennifer Stephens. I got the message you needed to speak with me.”

I told her what had happened at the cemetery. “He might have stalked me from Hailey's apartment, and I wouldn't be surprised if he took pictures of us kissing.”

“Is she your girlfriend?” She wasn't asking because she was curious. Her tone was calm and calculating.

“She's a friend.”
Who I wish was my girlfriend
. “But the paparazzi asshole figured I was cheating on Alyssa Graham with Hailey. I wouldn't be surprised if that makes front-page news in the tabloids.” By this time tomorrow, it would be trending entertainment news all over the Internet. “You need to make sure it's clear that I'm not dating and never have been dating Alyssa. Neither of us needs this crap right now.”

“Is there anything else?”

“He discovered what happened to my mother and sister. He also found out Hailey was attacked and asked if the two were linked. So right now he's got enough story angles to keep the tabloids fucking happy for a while.”

The long, slow breath of someone doing her best to stay calm when the entire manure patch was hitting the fan whispered from the phone. “You're not to talk to anyone, Nolan. And I need you back in L.A. so I can manage the damage better.”

“I'm not leaving here yet. I need another week. Plus the band's flying out next week so we can work on the album together.”

“Fine,” she sighed heavily. “I'll discuss it with Mr. Remar, but you will have to do what I tell you so I can minimize the fallout. Are we clear on that?”

“As long as you can keep Hailey out of this, then I'll do whatever you want. I mean, other than going home on the next flight.” I highly doubted the cops would've solved Hailey's attack by next week, and I was beginning to wonder if they ever would. I was simply buying more time with her.

“I'm not sure I'll be able to do that if there are photos of you kissing her. They will only complicate things. But if they don't exist, we can have Alyssa confirm she knows about your friendship with Hailey and she completely trusts you.”

Huh?
“What difference does it make if Alyssa trusts me? I am not her boyfriend!” Pictures or no pictures.

“I'm not sure if you're aware of this, Nolan, but this relationship between you and Alyssa that the media fabricated has been the ideal opportunity for you. Her clean-cut image and the fact she was willing to give you a chance to turn the bad-boy reputation around has gained you more respect in the industry.”

This was fucking unbelievable. How had the real me become this fabricated persona? Even as Tyler, I'd planned to be the same person deep down that I was as Nolan. How had things gotten so screwed up? “So what are you saying?”

“Alyssa has always been favorable to aligning herself with you.” Which explained why she had never denied the rumors we were together. “Right now we have to wait to see what angle the media will take. We don't want to waste time extinguishing fires that were never an issue.”

I glared at the abandoned thumbtack in the stretch of white wall in front of me. “Lemme guess. You're not issuing a statement confirming that the only relationship I have with Alyssa is purely professional, because she's the spokesperson for the emergency women's shelter in L.A.?” One of the reasons she had such a favorable reputation.

“That's correct. We're going to let people continue to believe you two are romantically involved. And in the meantime, you're to keep out of the spotlight. Don't leave that apartment for any reason, and don't get into any more trouble.”

“And what about what happened to my sister and mother? What's going to happen once it's made public?”

“You'll have a lot of experts pointing out that the root of your bad-boy reputation stems from what happened to your father and your family.” Her tone was cold and impassive, and I had no idea why. I also couldn't tell if she believed her own words. “I won't lie and tell you it will be easy. Far from it. Those who've never liked you will have a field day. But we can also use it to our advantage when it comes to your relationship with Alyssa. You've been donating to the emergency shelter for the past few years. Alyssa can talk about how she fell for your compassion toward those women in need, and that's how the two of you became romantically involved.”

I could almost hear the wheels turning in her head, and I could tell there was no point reminding her once again that Alyssa and I weren't romantically involved.

And if the photos of Hailey and me kissing were leaked, where would this all leave Hailey? She'd be labeled as the bitch who'd stolen me away from the selfless Alyssa. No one would see Hailey for the beautiful and equally selfless woman that she was.

And in the end, only Hailey would be hurt.

The moment Nolan walked into my room, I knew the news wasn't good. He'd been relaxed, satisfied after the shower. But now the corners of his lips curved down and he couldn't even look at me when he entered the room.

“What happened?” I asked, walking the short distance to him.

“I just spoke with the label's PR person.”

My insides clenched into a tight fist, and I felt more raw and bruised than I had after the attack. “And you don't have good news?” Maybe they should redefine the term
PR
as meaning “personal ruin.” That sounded more fitting, given the bad news I sensed coming.

“They're still figuring out what to do about the paparazzi situation, since we have no idea what kind of story will be leaked. They don't want to put out fires that don't exist.”

“That makes sense.”

He glanced at my bed, his expression a twist of pain and uncertainty. “But while they don't want to waste time extinguishing nonexistent fires, they want to be proactive about what it could mean for my reputation.”

I frowned. “What do you mean?”

He shifted and finally made eye contact. “They want to make the most of the lie that Alyssa and I are romantically involved. They believe that her association with the women's emergency shelter I've been donating to for the past few years could help me. Because I was doing it anonymously, it means I wasn't trying to benefit from it and it will look good for my image.”

A voice in my head repeated his words,
They want to make the most of the lie that Alyssa and I are romantically involved,
and my heart crumpled. “They want you to go back to L.A., don't they?”

“It was suggested that I return now, but I'm not ready to leave yet.” He moved closer to me and ran his thumb along my cheek.

“Why's that?” I said, voice little more than a whisper. I'd known that what we had between us couldn't last forever, that I only had mere weeks with him anyway, but the record label's request for him to return sooner made it feel more real, more final.

His thumb brushed against my lips. “I missed you after I left the first time. More than I thought would be possible. You're my heart and soul, Hailey.”

I was too stunned to say anything, which was just as well. His mouth captured mine and we were kissing. While I might have been unable to respond to his words with my own, I more than made up for it with my kiss.

He was my heart and soul too.

I don't know long we were kissing before we finally pulled apart. He rested his forehead against mine and we stayed this way while we regained our breath. But as the fog in my head began to dissipate, those words from earlier came back. Nolan might have told me I was his heart and soul, but that wasn't what the record label wanted. They wanted him linked with Alyssa.

What would that mean for Nolan and me? Did the record label expect the pair to fake their relationship in public, so people believed what they had between them was real? Or did they expect Nolan and Alyssa to fall in love? Rumor was she wanted to record an album, since she was also a talented singer. Was this romance nothing more than marketing to benefit both their careers?

“I'm going to the store.” I needed to temporarily get away from everything circling me like soul-sucking vultures. “Do you need anything?”

“I'll come with you.”

I shook my head. A run-in with another of his ardent admirers was not what I needed right now. “It's better if you stay here. I won't be long.” I gave him a quick kiss and left before he could argue otherwise.

The grocery store wasn't busy when I arrived. I wandered up and down the aisles, delaying the inevitable trip home. Dwelling on how Nolan had said I was his heart and soul. Doing my best not to think about anything else.

As I inspected a red pepper, the subtle, spicy scent of someone's aftershave taunted me.

“What the fuck did you bring her here for?” a low, rough male voice said, as if sharing a secret.

I opened my eyes to see what was going on but was met by the fierce glare of a flashlight.

Something bumped into my side, jerking me from my memory.

“Sweetie, I told you to be careful with the shopping cart,” a mom gently admonished her four-year-old. The little girl barely reached the handlebar and looked perturbed that I'd been in her way.

I flashed her an apologetic smile, then scanned the area, searching for the source of my memory. The only people nearby were mothers and a male grocery clerk who didn't look familiar.

“Oh my God, it's her,” a female voice shrieked.

My head jerked up at the sound. A seventeen-year-old girl was glaring at me as if I'd stolen her boyfriend and she wanted to scratch my eyes out.

Her friend glanced between us, as confused by the girl's outburst as I was. “Her who?”

“She's the woman trying to steal Tyler Erickson away from Alyssa Graham.”

I'm not sure what made me cringe more, the way she screamed it or that the lies and my picture had already hit the Internet.

The friend looked me over, not thoroughly convinced I was capable of stealing Nolan from anyone who looked like Alyssa. Especially given the way I currently looked, with my hair in a messy post-sex-in-the-shower ponytail, barely any makeup, and clothes sitting on this side of comfy. Alyssa's hair was always perfect. Her makeup was always perfect. Her outfits were always perfect. The paparazzi had yet to shoot a bad picture of her.

“Are you sure?” The friend scanned the vegetable section, possibly searching for Nolan.

“I don't know why you're wasting your time with him,” the shrieker yelled as I started to walk away, not wanting to be part of this conversation. “He'll never leave Alyssa. She's much better than you'll ever be.”

Even though I shouldn't have let it bother me, her comment still cut deep. She didn't even know me, yet she was already judging me.

I hurried to the checkout, not daring to stay in the store longer than necessary, in case the shrieker decided to pelt me with cans of vegetables—the jumbo cans, which would do more than just bruise.

What I didn't get was why the girl blamed me for trying to steal Tyler away from Alyssa. Didn't it take two to cheat?

Or had the photo portrayed Nolan as the innocent party in the kiss? Had it made it seem as though I'd attacked him with my lips?

I knew I shouldn't look, but I couldn't help it. As soon as I got into my car, I Googled Tyler's name on my phone and found the picture the shrieker must have seen. All I could tell from the photo was that a woman was kissing him. You couldn't tell if he was kissing back or if he'd been surprised by the kiss—and you couldn't tell it was me.

I searched through the other photos. None were of us in the cemetery, although I expected they would surface soon. The other leaked pictures had been taken at the sports center. You could see us clearly in them, and you could see I was the same woman who was kissing him in the other photo.

The entire trip home I debated whether or not I should check what exactly had been said about me and Tyler. At least then I'd be prepared for the next person who brought up the article.

Kayla's song played on my phone. I let it go to voicemail. A moment later it played again. And as I pulled into my parking spot outside the apartment building, it played a third time.

Knowing that Kayla wouldn't quit phoning me until I answered, I accepted the call.

“Finally!” she practically screamed, forcing me to pull the phone away from my ear. “I've been trying to get hold of you.”

“Sorry, I was driving.”

“Have you seen the article and pictures yet? The ones of you and Nolan? They're all over the Internet.”

“I saw two photos of us,” I said, opening the car door. “But I haven't read anything yet. Is it as bad as I think it is?” I winced. Of course it was, if the shrieker's reaction had been any indication.

“Depends on what you consider bad. The article claims you've been spotted getting cozy with Tyler.”

I told her what had happened in the store.

“You're kidding,” Kayla exclaimed, and once again I pulled the phone a safe distance from my ear. “Nolan's caught cheating on his supposed girlfriend and you're the guilty party? What about Tyler? Why didn't she attack him for cheating on his
girlfriend
?” She practically spat the last word.

I opened the trunk of my car. The cold wind slapped my cheeks and nose as if it too was angry at me. “Welcome to the wonderful world of double standards. But I'm not so sure everyone will react the same way. The only one who will get everyone's pity is Alyssa, and she's not even dating him.” That was the most frustrating part of all of it. Meanwhile, Nolan and I would suffer the fallout.

It was no wonder the record label wanted to fuel the perception that Tyler and Alyssa were still an item. Anything to save the band and their upcoming album. Never mind that Nolan was a gifted singer, guitarist, and songwriter. Those should've been enough to stand on their own.

“So what are you going to do?” Kayla asked.

“About what?”

“About you and Nolan?”

“There is no me and Nolan.” I grabbed a couple of grocery bags from the car with one hand and, with the phone sandwiched between my ear and shoulder, closed the trunk.

“Right. That's not what it looks like from the photos.”

“It was no big deal. We just kissed.” And had sex. Several times. Great sex. Several times. “He's returning to L.A. next week anyway. So whatever we had between us will be over.”
Being his heart and soul will be over.

“Are you sure about that?”

“Positive.”

Kayla believed everyone deserved a happily-ever-after. And maybe it was true. But Nolan and I wouldn't be getting ours. Not together, at least.

Not if it put his music career in jeopardy.