This One Moment (19 page)

The final notes of the song we'd been working on faded away, and I nodded. The energy electrifying Mason's studio loft was at an all-time high since my return two days ago. For the past six hours, the band had been creating the arrangement to the song. No one had mentioned the lies I'd been feeding them all these years.

I figured Jared had something to do with that.

From the moment we'd walked through the front door, we were all business. We had just over a week to pull everything together before hitting the studio. And for the first time I realized how much I'd fucked things up for these guys. I'd been so focused on Hailey and how much I loved her, I'd forgotten how much the music meant to them. Being a recording artist wasn't just my dream. It was theirs too, and I'd put it in jeopardy.

No one mentioned that either.

We were working on the song Hailey loved. It was a ballad, and the moment I'd begun singing it, the guys' eyes had lit with a level of excitement I hadn't seen in a while.

“I think that's it,” Jared said at last, grinning. The guys nodded in agreement. But as much as we wanted to celebrate, we still needed to create the music for five more songs and the lyrics and music to two others. While I'd been away, Jared and I had written eleven songs in total. Some we'd collaborated on via the phone and Skype. Others we'd written on our own. He'd presented them to the band, and they had already arranged the music and tweaked the lyrics to six songs by the time I'd left Northbridge.

Mason ordered pizza and we took a quick break to check our phones. Disappointment kicked me in the gut that Hailey hadn't texted or called me. Since returning to L.A., I'd received one text from her, thanking me for letting her know I'd arrived safely. All my other attempts to contact her went ignored.

Alyssa was a different matter. Now that I had returned and the media were talking about our relationship (from what I'd heard), she sent me regular texts. I'd already warned her the band and I were in hiding while we worked on the album. So other than her movie premiere tomorrow night, which the label insisted I attend with her, I wouldn't be in contact with the outside world until the album was completed.

What she didn't know was that Hailey was the exception. If Hailey went back to acknowledging my existence, I'd be on the phone faster than you could say foosball champion.

While my phone had been turned off, Brandon had texted me:
Call me ASAP. Important.

I called him. My heart pounded something fierce, each rapid beat spreading fear through my body like poison.

He answered on the second ring. “Hailey's fine,” he said before I could say anything, “but I figured you'd want to know that someone she works with was found murdered yesterday.”

“Who?”

“Chris Witterholm.”

I could barely breathe. I remembered chatting with him a few times. He was a good guy. Why the hell would someone want to kill him?

“The police haven't released any details,” Brandon continued, “other than he was in Westgate when he was shot.”

My body turned to ice at his words. “Did it have anything to do with Hailey?”

“I have no idea. All I know is what I've told you.”

“Let me know if you hear anything else.”

“Will do.”

We ended the call, and I began typing Hailey a text:
Heard about Chris. I'm sorry. Call me. I love you.
Then I deleted the final three words before hitting send. Given the situation with Alyssa, those three words would only screw things up more than they already were. I didn't want a long-distance relationship. I wanted Hailey in L.A. with me.

I contacted the detective who'd been assigned to Hailey's case. “All I can tell you,” he said, “is that we're looking into the possibility they're linked.” His tone was all business, and nothing I said would convince him to reveal anything more, especially to someone who was constantly in the media spotlight.

After getting nowhere with that, I returned to the guys, who were eating the pizza as if it were their final meal, especially Mason. I grabbed a couple of slices before he could devour them all. We quickly finished up, then went back to work.

But as much as I tried to concentrate on the music and lyrics, memories of my last time with Hailey crept into my head. It didn't help she'd been the inspiration for my songs. A bit of Hailey was in all of them. The loneliness that had kept itself at bay while I was with her returned with a vengeance.

An hour later, after I'd screwed up on my part for the tenth time, Mason exploded, “Fuck, Tyler—or Nolan, or whatever your freakin' name is. Are you gonna get with the fucking program or not?”

Jared tensed, ready to throw himself between me and Mason if necessary. Kirk and Aaron glanced between us. Unlike Jared, I couldn't see either of them jumping in front of the bulky drummer, any more than they would have jumped in front of a speeding semi.

“Hey, look, I'm sorry.” Though I meant what I said, exhaustion, frustration, and anger pushed through to my words. “I never claimed I was perfect. I'm pretty screwed up, actually. Have been for years thanks to my craptastic dad.”

Mason's features softened at the reminder of what I'd been through. He nodded, indicating we should get back to work.

“No,” Jared said, “we need to talk about this.”

We all threw him a look that clearly said,
What the fuck are you talking about, you pussy?
Guys didn't talk about their emotions. We drank beer and got laid. Which would be great if the woman I wanted to have sex with lived in the same city as me. After being with Hailey, no one else would do.

“Yeah, I get it,” Jared said. “We're cavemen assholes who are only capable of grunting at each other.”

Kirk chuckled. “But at least they're musical grunts.” He threw me a glance that was part amusement, part frustration. “Most of the time.”

“Shit, you're not gonna make us hug, are you?” Mason's arms were folded, emphasizing his huge, tattooed biceps. “Otherwise I'm gonna need some serious therapy.”

Aaron smirked. “Given that you won't even hug a woman, I'd say you need serious therapy either way.”

That earned Aaron a harsh glare. Aaron shrugged it off.

“Can we just play the song again?” I said. “I promise I'll do better.”

“You better,” Mason huffed.

Kirk chuckled. “Someone needs to get laid.”

“Damn straight I do. But until you ladies get your act together, I'm going all monk,” Mason said with a frown. I had a feeling the monk part wasn't by choice. Jared probably had something to do with it, demanding there was no getting laid until the album was finished.

“All right. Before Mas starts reciting religious scriptures,” I said, “let's get back to work.” Anything to avoid talking about all the shit going on with me, and about my fears for Hailey after what had happened to her colleague.

Jared and Kirk grabbed their instruments. Mason returned to his drums, and Aaron switched his keyboards back on. This time when I sang the song, I pretended I was singing it to Hailey. By the time we were finished with it, all four were nodding their approval.

We continued well into the night. To save time, we'd planned to crash at Mason's until the songs were all written. Like the past few nights, we slept only two or three hours before starting up again. Coffee became our food of choice.

Before crashing on Mason's couch, I checked my phone. Hailey had finally replied to one of my texts:
I'm fine, thanks. Have fun tomorrow night.

At first my sleep-deprived brain had no idea what she was talking about with the last part, but then I remembered: Alyssa's movie premiere. Hailey must have seen it on the entertainment news. To her, I was moving on with my life. That's why she hadn't responded to my messages. It was her way of saying she understood.

I deliberated for a minute whether I should respond. What I wanted to say was,
I wish it were you,
but that would only hurt her more. And her message was quite clear. She was brushing me off. She wasn't fine about Chris's death. That much I knew.

I hurled the phone against the wall. Mason's drywall survived the assault.

My phone didn't.

The limo pulled up to the security post of Alyssa's gated community. After a brief word with the guard, we were waved in. The record label had arranged for the limo. They wanted to ensure we showed up at the movie premiere together, since I was there as her boyfriend.

My mouth dropped open as we drove past houses that were better described as estates. My parents' home was large, but it was nothing compared to these.

The limo turned in at the driveway of a house that belonged in a fairy tale. Hailey would have loved it. Sighing, I pushed away thoughts of her. This was Alyssa's big night. The last thing she needed was for me to be moody and ruin it for her.

I waited for the driver to open my door, then I walked to the house and rang the doorbell. A moment later the front door swung open.

Alyssa's painted pink lips curled up in a smile, and all I could do was wonder why she was wasting time with me. She should've been going to the premiere with someone who wanted to be there with her. She shouldn't have been going with someone who'd been coerced into being her date.

Alyssa was normally gorgeous, but in her silver gown she was stunning. The cleavage-revealing dress was fitted to midthigh, then cascaded to the floor. Her hair was knotted in a bun, adding to her elegance.

“You look great,” I said.

“You don't look so bad yourself.” Her gaze traveled down the tux that I felt like an idiot in. The record label had arranged it too.

“Are you ready?”
To leave. To stand in front of hundreds of fans. To deal with the media storm.

I offered her my arm and I escorted her to the awaiting limo. The driver opened the door and I helped Alyssa in, then joined her. She patted the black leather seat next to her. I took the one across from her.

She giggled. “I'm not going to bite, if that's what you're worried about.”

“I know, but I'm happy here.”

“Okay.” She moved to sit next to me. I wasn't sure if it was intentional, but she practically sat in my lap.

And that's when I smelled the booze on her breath.
Shit
. She rested her hand on my knee and gave it a light squeeze as the limo pulled away from her house.

“Alyssa, you're a nice girl, but I don't feel that way about you.” My voice was cautious, quiet, like how you'd talk to an animal you don't want to spook. I didn't want to upset her when we were attending the premiere, but I needed to ensure she understood this wasn't real.

“Why? Because of the girl in the pictures?”

“Yes.”

“But she lives in Minnesota and you live in L.A. Are you really planning to have a long-distance relationship?” Her lips pressed together into a slight pout.

“We're not having a long-distance relationship.”

“She's moving here?” The pout disappeared and the corners of her mouth dipped down.

I shifted my knee, subtly removing her hand from it. “No. We're not together.”

It took a moment for it to sink in. Her eyes widened. “You're…you're in love with her, aren't you?”

I nodded.

“Does she feel the same way?”

I shrugged. “I'm not sure.” And I wasn't. I'd seen her love for me in her eyes, but she hadn't actually said the words I'd longed to hear.

Alyssa scooted back, leaving more than a foot of space between us. “What do you mean, you're not sure?”

“Just that. I have no idea if she loves me.”

“Well, what did she say when you told her you love her?” When I didn't answer, she said, “You did tell her you love her, right?”

“Not exactly.”

Fine lines crossed her forehead. “What do you mean, ‘not exactly'? You either told her or you didn't.”

“I told her she was my heart and soul.”

Alyssa nodded what I could only guess was her approval. “That's not bad. And what did she say?”

“Nothing. We were too busy kissing.” I felt like I had back in high school, when Hailey used to give me advice about dating and girls. Or at least she did until our senior year. Then the advice suddenly stopped.

“Okay, so what did she say when you asked her to move to L.A.?”

Now it was my turn to frown. “I didn't. I mean, I didn't ask her to move to L.A. She wants to study physical therapy and get into the program back home. I figured she wouldn't want to move here.”

“But you didn't give her the choice to decide if she wanted to move here with you.”

“Sure I did.”

Alyssa shook her head as if I was an idiot, and maybe I was. “No, you didn't. You decided she wouldn't want to move here because of her goals. You never asked her. Maybe she wasn't sure if you wanted her to come here to be with you.”

She had a point. I'd just assumed Hailey wouldn't want to move to L.A. But she had never indicated she would want to or that she would be fine with my constant touring.

I pointed this out to Alyssa.

“What was she supposed to do?” Alyssa replied. “Your record label and my agent decided we'd both benefit from this fictitious relationship they dreamed up. And with our fans so enamored by the idea of the clichéd good girl taming the bad-boy rocker, why would she risk everything when it was already determined you two can't be together?”

She had a good point. “So what should I do?”

“Ask her if she wants to live with you. She doesn't have to physically live with you if she's not comfortable with that. But at least she could live in the same city as you.”

“And what about the record label?”

“Couples break up all the time. If I want to break up with you, there's nothing stopping me.”

“Except for the recording contract they offered you.”

“I don't think they'll change their minds because of that. Tell you what. Why don't we take one step at a time? We'll attend this premiere as a couple. Give the audience what they want. Then the first chance you get—sooner rather than later—you go back home and ask Hailey if she wants to move here. And then we'll see what happens.” She tilted her head to the side. “Does that sound like a plan?”

I wasn't sure if I was making a mistake or if I was about to cause myself more heartache, but Alyssa's plan had merit, except…

“How's this going to help my reputation? If anything, it will only make things worse. I'll be labeled as a cheating asshole.” And it wouldn't score Hailey any brownie points either.

Alyssa patted my knee. “It's going to be okay, Nolan. You just have to have faith. Let people get to know the real you, and everything will be all right. And I'd love to meet Hailey. If I accept her as someone important in your life, the fans will too.”

I hoped she was right.

Once we arrived at the location of the premiere, the traffic surrounding the theater slowed the limo's progress. As the occupants of each limo in front of us climbed out to greet the crowds lining either side of the theater entrance, my leg bounced with restless energy. But it had nothing to do with the screaming fans.

It was due to Alyssa's advice. If I could, I would've hailed a cab and rushed to the airport to catch the next flight to Northbridge. But as much as I wanted to do that, I couldn't let the band down again. I needed to stay in L.A. until the record was finished. Or at least until the band's part in recording the album was completed. Only then could I return to Northbridge and show Hailey how much I loved her and that I wanted to spend the rest of my life with her.

I hoped she felt the same way about me.

The limo pulled up to the red carpet. Camera flashes lit the area as fans waited with bated breath to see which celebrity had just arrived. The limo door opened and security helped Alyssa from the vehicle. Adoring screams filled the night sky as the fans caught sight of her. The woman I recognized as her assistant was instantly by her side and spoke to her while I stepped out of the limo.

You'd have thought that I too was starring in the movie, from the way the crowd reacted at seeing me. Feeling a little sheepish at the attention when I was nothing more than Alyssa's escort for the night, I waved. Alyssa stepped up to me, wrapped her arm around my waist, and cuddled close. I knew it was nothing more than an act, but that didn't stop me from stiffening.

Flashes of light burst in front of us as fans and the media captured this fake moment. Inwardly I groaned. This wouldn't help my case with Hailey, especially if she saw the photos and video footage. If I was lucky, she would be avoiding anything to do with Alyssa and me and would never see any of this.

A production assistant indicated for us to keep moving toward the theater. But that didn't mean we got to escape to the safety of the building. We still had to deal with the various entertainment reporters.

Alyssa held my arm, like the adoring couple we pretended to be. It was easy for her. She was an actress. I was just a singer and songwriter. That didn't require me to act beyond what was needed for the band's music videos. Even my years of pretending to be someone else were pretty useless right now.

We approached the first reporter and her camera operator.

“Hi, Alyssa,” the tall redhead gushed in that overzealous way common among entertainment reporters, which often left me inwardly rolling my eyes. “Megan Keyes with
We Talk
. You look absolutely gorgeous. As always.”

Alyssa smiled graciously, her reaction no doubt genuine. “Thank you, Megan.”

“And you…” Megan looked momentarily thrown as to what to call me. Which wasn't surprising. I hadn't really decided myself what name I wanted to use career-wise.

Alyssa gave my arm a light squeeze, reminding me what she had told me in the limo:
Let people get to know the real you, and everything will be all right.

“You can call me Nolan.”

Alyssa beamed at me, but not for the same reason Megan assumed. I smiled back, even though it would only further cement everyone's belief we were a couple.

“Nolan,” Megan said, “you look particularly yummy.” To Alyssa she added, “You have very good taste.” She then asked a few quick questions about the film before we were hustled to the next reporter. She barely had enough to time add “Congratulations, you two” before we were gone.

Alyssa waved to a group of teenage girls screaming at her and waving banners that proclaimed
NOLYSSA, WE LOVE YOU
and
NOLYSSA FOREVER!

“Nolyssa?” I said under my breath.

“Nolan and Alyssa,” she explained. “That's what our fans have been calling us.” She directed her smile at me. “They've accepted you as Nolan. They want to get to know the real you, too.”

“How long has this been going on? With the joint name, I mean.”

She looked at me, slightly taken aback. “They were referring to us as Tylyssa for a while before this. The name changed after the paparazzi leaked your real name.”

No wonder fans reacted the way they had when it looked like Hailey had been trying to seduce me away from Alyssa. But what would happen when Alyssa and I ended our fake relationship? How would these die-hard Nolyssa fans react?

I hoped that if Hailey agreed to move to L.A. to be with me, the fans would realize that she was the right girl for me. But in the end, it didn't really matter if they agreed or not, as long as they left her alone and moved their attention to another celebrity couple.

“Kiss her!” a girl called out. Before I could react, Alyssa leaned in and kissed my cheek. Camera flashes went crazy.

I scowled at her. “Why did you do that?” I said, a little more forcefully than was warranted.

She smiled sweetly. I didn't know if that was for my benefit or for the benefit of those watching us. “Because if I didn't, they'd keep hounding you to kiss me. This way they're semi-appeased. At least I didn't kiss you on the lips.”

She was right, but it didn't make me feel any better about the situation.

Alyssa and I endured being interviewed by two more entertainment reporters before we could finally enter the grand theater. And like with Megan, they commented on our relationship. Alyssa did her best to redirect the conversation to the movie.

Once away from the crowds and the media, our mini entourage found our seats and we settled in for the movie. Since we were no longer in the eyes of the media, we could stop the loving-couple routine. Now we were just two friends out to see a movie—a movie Alyssa happened to star in.

Sadly, because I'd been so involved in my own personal dramas, I'd had no idea what the movie was about. Her previous movies had been romantic comedies. And yes, the title,
Forgiven Chances
, didn't exactly scream chick flick, but I hadn't paid much attention to that either.

Alyssa's character entered a convenience store with a homeless teen she was going to buy food for. But the store was being robbed and one of the assholes overreacted. He wasn't armed with a gun like his friend.

He was armed with a knife.

My hand unconsciously shifted to where my father had stabbed me.