“Care to elaborate on that?” says Skylar, not a shred of sensitivity in sight.
“Bad relationship,” I say huskily.
“Obviously.” She rolls her eyes. “But what happened? Who was he? What did he do?”
I shake my head. A lot.
“That’s enough,” I hear from a slightly amplified voice—Nathaniel’s voice. I peer up and see him below the judges’ platform, standing in front of Skylar. Whatever else he says the microphones never catch it, but Skylar’s smile disappears. Hudson and Zach are nodding in his direction, clearly pleased as Nathaniel strides back to his chair and sits down. It’s kind of humiliating that Nathaniel has to come to my rescue—that I couldn’t defend myself, that my own bandmate never bothered at all—it’s also possibly the kindest thing anyone has ever done for me.
The lights dim blue over the stage, and I can finally breathe in the shadows. A spotlight follows Dan as he pretends nothing’s amiss. The audience is quiet, though, so quiet that I could whisper and the back row could hear it. “Let’s give a warm round of applause for Ardent Strangers!” he shouts.
Applause sound around the studio, more subdued than before.
“Stick around folks,” Dan says. “Fatal Attack are back after the break, and it’s going to be big, big, big!”
I have never been so happy to experience an ad-break in my life, and as soon as those cameras have gone out I’m off the stage quick fast. Aaron tries to get me to return to the waiting area by the show’s return. Instead, I escape out the backstage door and walk around in the winter air. A good half hour later, Emma uses her producer wiles to coax me back to the waiting area. I don’t make eye contact with a single soul, I just sit there quietly and watch the show as if I were on my sofa back home. Aaron puts his arm around me at one point, but I’m too numb to acknowledge it, too numb to move away. An hour-and-a-half later, the recap of the performances play across the screen behind Dan.
The show is over.
I am free.
Backstage, the judges, contestants and their families are milling around, some lounging on the sofas around the Green Room, while the rest of us stand in small packs.
“Eve, how ‘bout we go home?” Aaron says. “We really need to talk.”
“Okay.” I might as well. It’s just him and me. He has no family here, and I have none at all.
As I turn to leave, a woman yells over the noise, “Eve, sweetie!”
My heart lifts with some version of happiness.
“Eve!” her husband calls, along with a rougher female voice.
I spin around and I’m pulled into a group hug by Penny, Quinn, and Wendy. As my no crying vow is now a shambles, I let the happy tears flow freely, because Penny and Wendy are already crying for me. When I finally break free of their hold, I spy Nathaniel walking up behind them.
“I found these three a row back from me,” he says. “They seemed kind of keen to meet you. I think they’re possibly your biggest fans. Other than myself, of course.”
I laugh.
Nathaniel is a fan.
“No doubt about it,” says Wendy in that deadpan voice of hers. “Biggest fans. Ever.”
“True dat,” adds Quinn.
Penny elbows him, as she always does when he says that. Then she hugs me hard. “I cried all the way through your song. You on a proper stage, singing. Finally! And you were so brave to sing about that. I don’t know how you did it.”
“I don’t either,” I say, wiping tears. “But thanks, Pen.”
“Anytime.” She pats me on the back before moving away. “We should go. Work tomorrow. And you’ve got company.” She smiles, her eyes darting over my shoulder to where Nathaniel is no doubt standing. “See you next Sunday?”
I nod, happier than I thought possible.
As Wendy and Quinn say their goodbyes, Nathaniel takes their place. I’m met with an awkward moment of whether to embrace or not to embrace. I peer over my shoulder and see Aaron over the other side of the room with Fatal Attack and their girlfriends. He is smiling, laughing. He seems fine.
Nerves zipping through me, I turn back to Nathaniel. He has closed the distance for me, his hand straying to my waist as he places a kiss on my cheek. “You were beautiful, Evangeline.”
“Thanks,” I breathe, secretly liking how his hand fits so comfortably on my waist. I’m a little disappointed at how easily he lets me go.
“I know for a fact that Hudson and Zach agree with me. Skylar on the other hand…”
“What did you say to her?”
“Let’s leave that for another time.” He seems troubled as he picks up my hand, and I wonder if he’s about to say goodbye. “I’m a little concerned about those lyrics, angel.”
There is an understanding in his eyes, telling me that I could tell him anything and he’d still be here. It’s the perfect gesture, one that means more than he’ll ever know, but if I so much as mention Jeremy’s name right now I’m going to fall apart in front of everyone.
“Will you tell me about it one day?”
“One day,” I whisper, and an actual shiver passes through me.
His jaw flinches.
I take a step back. “What is it?”
He steps forward, gently clasping my arms before I can step away again. “Whoever he is, I want to kill him.”
“That would be hard. He’s locked up for another four months,” I say, trying for sarcasm, which fails miserably.
His head tilts toward mine. “Locked up because of what he did to you?”
I give a wary nod.
“Four months isn’t that far away, Eve.”
“No, it isn’t,” I whisper, all too aware of the worry in his eyes.
“You know, fixing problems is my specialty, right?”
I’m not sure what he could possibly do about Jeremy. “You don’t even know the story.”
“Angel, one thing I do know is I’m not letting him anywhere near you, and if it means giving you security guards so we can both sleep well at night, then it’s an easy call.”
“We?”
“Yes, we. Unless you want me to chaperone you everywhere with my own security or sleep in your bed at night and have my security sleep outside your house, I will not be able to sleep unless I know you’re safe and sound. Do you remember yesterday at the park, all those people wanting to talk to you and touch you?”
I nod, cringing.
“That will only get worse now that you and I have attracted so much attention in the press.”
“I blame you for that,” I say, smiling for some reason.
“Yes, well…” He smiles sheepishly. “After the performance you and Aaron just put on I’m going to assume you both have a lot of fans out there, more so than any other music contestant now that people are following our story. You’re going to be swamped everywhere you go, trust me. As for Aaron, he won’t be able to play security agent any longer. He can’t very well go around breaking his fans’ arms and legs or smashing paparazzi cameras. You need your own security team.”
Aaron and I are not celebrities. We’ve been in the spotlight for less than a week. As for security guards—I can’t afford security guards! I don’t want him paying for them either. I don’t want to owe him or any man.
“He’s right, you know,” Aaron says, coming up beside us.
I’m startled by his sudden appearance and the fact that he’s so agreeable to Nathaniel’s idea.
Nathaniel smiles. “When am I not?”
Aaron shakes his head with mock impatience. “Dick.”
He laughs and claps Aaron on the back. It’s weird, but I can actually sense that Aaron’s enjoying this, as if Nathaniel’s part of the cure to what he’s missing. (And I’m in the middle of them, breaking them up.) I should do the right thing and walk away from them both. With a sigh, I watch them discuss the security idea, more interested in how these old friends interact, the way they complete each other’s sentences while brainstorming, and I suddenly realize how similar they a
re.
“No, I’m quite capable of paying for our security,” Aaron argues, sabotaging the friendly mood.
“Fine, you can foot the bill for half. I’ll pay for Eve,” Nathaniel insists.
“Okay, stop, both of you,” I say, halting my hands in the air. “Nobody’s paying anything for me, so can we stop with the security talk?”
They both stare at me, neither one happy. I don’t think I can handle these two on my own. I need a security guard just to fend them off, especially Nathaniel—he’s becoming far too honorable.
Ignoring Aaron’s grunt, Nathaniel steps closer and takes my hand. “Evangeline, you saved my life twice. It’s only fair that I look after yours.”
I sigh, realizing this is a fight I’m probably going to lose. “And then we’ll be even?”
“Not quite,” he muses. “But it’s a start.”
“Oh, fine. I’ll take the guards.”
“Thank you.” He smiles broadly, and I think my heart melts a tiny bit more. “And thank you for letting me attend tonight.”
“About that… I thought you weren’t free any night for the next three weeks?”
“Oh, that? I believe I wasn’t free for dinner. I never said anything about the rest of my evenings events.”
“Ha. Funny.”
His eyes, bright and mischievous, fix on mine. He lifts my hand in an overly regal fashion and kisses the back of it, causing Aaron to grumble behind him and me to weaken at the knees. “Until next time.”
Nodding stupidly, I whisper, “Okay.”
Nathaniel chuckles, then kisses my hand one more time. Even as he turns and leaves through the crowd I’m smiling far too much. I need to stop. Then I look to Aaron and it’s easy to wipe that smile off my face. He looks pissed, and now I have to drive home with him, live with him.
Fan mail
Hi Eve,
Loved Ardent Strangers song on Sunday. Already voted 8 times for you. My best friend Abby and me, we totally cried at the end—you know, when the judges where asking you if that really happened to you—the bad relationship. We swear we could feel your pain the whole time. Hope you make it to the end and win. Can’t wait to see what Ardent Strangers gives us next Sunday!
Your pal, Macie.
Btw: Aaron is hot. How do you concentrate on stage with that hotness in your face? You’re a stronger girl than I am, because I’d accidently stumble and fall into his crotch given half a chance. (Just an idea. Just putting it out there in case you want to use it. I would.)
I snort a laugh and toss the letter on the sofa, onto the ever-growing pile of fan mail.
It’s Thursday and we are in one of the conference rooms at Channel 3. Sofas line three of the glass walls. An odd coffee table here and there holds either lap-tops, fan mail and coffee mugs, all belonging to the remaining contestants who survived last night’s first elimination. Losing those twelve contestants in one night was heartbreaking to watch, and Aaron and I had been nervous wrecks the entire show. No surprise that the original top five contestants all made it through to the second round, along with seven other hopefuls who are still pretty much strangers. Now, the competition feels smaller and the opportunity to win so much larger, and I’m still a nervous wreck.
“What is it?” Aaron asks with a smile.
“Ah… nothing!”
“Sure it is.” He puts down his own letters and leans across to peek at my mail, but I hold him back with a well-placed hand to his chest. I consider writing Macie back a detailed description of how tight and sculpted this particular part of Aaron is. I bet she’d like that. Okay, that’s a little immature of me. Macie is possibly a teenager.
‘Okay fine, I’ll show you. But on one condition,” I say, receiving a skeptical look from Aaron. “You have to read it aloud.”
Aaron chews his mint, as if nothing fazes him. He nods agreeably at the beginning of the letter, then stops talking when he reaches, ‘Btw’. Brow raised, he clears his throat: “‘By the way, Aaron is hot. How do you concentrate…?’” He laughs, then looks across at me. “You know, I’d be perfectly happy if you wanted to stumble into my crotch. In case the idea appeals to you.”
I huff, but wow do my cheeks feel hot. I pat them to check. I might be running a fever. “I’d like to point out that I did not write that.”
“True. But you did get a dazed, slightly aroused look in your eyes when you were reading it. You’ve already imagined that scenario.”
Sending him my sweetest smile, I mutter, “You never know, my knee my stumble into your crotch one day. How does that idea appeal to you?”
“I’d like to see you try.”
“You keep praying for that.”
He laughs and tosses my letter back at me, then begins reading through his own mail again. I sneak a glance at him and smile. He’s in a better mood today—the best I’ve ever seen him. It all began from the moment I exited my bedroom this morning. I woke to a surprise cappuccino, fresh from the bakery around the corner. After my shower there was a knock at the door, and I was greeted with a bouquet of red roses perched in a white box with a big red bow. I think I’d turned the same shade of scarlet as I read the small card from Aaron, crammed with his handwriting:
Dear Eve,
I spoke with Dr Brown again this morning—my second appointment this week. It’s given me time to reflect. If you remember, I once said, ‘I’m not in a great place for a relationship,’ but the thought of losing you is so much worse than not having you at all. So I’d still like to try this waiting game we’ve started, that’s if you’re willing to give me another chance…
I know Nathaniel is charming you, but you and I, we have something. It’s in our music. It’s in the way we click, the way I trust you. Please, Eve. I'm more sorry than you can know.
Love, Aaron.
Love, Aaron… He actually went and used the ‘L’ word. It only makes it harder to let him go if he ever decides to leave, or I leave him.
I pick up my next letter. The envelope is typed. It looks like a bill rather than fan mail. I’m halfway through ripping it open when my phone beeps with a text:
‘Evangeline. I’m on my way to the airport. Last minute flight, thanks to some issues in New York office that can’t wait. Any chance I could say a quick goodbye on the way? R u home? Nate. Xo’
Goodbye? He’s leaving? For how long? Months? Longer? Maybe this is the end. Not that we’d begun exactly. Maybe that’s the problem.
This is not good. He can’t do this.
Fire in my fingers, I text back: ‘I’m at Channel 3.’
His text pops up immediately: ‘Meet me outside in five.’
I type back a quick: ‘C u then.’
Crazily enough, I’m out of breath as I click out of the messages and see Nathaniel’s wallpaper, his eyes playful and bright within the shadows of the buggy. I touch the screen, running my finger over the gold strands flying around his face. This is how I always remember him, unaware of how good he looks, that he’s forgotten everything and he’s simply reveling in the moment.
I frown. The room is filled with voices, contestants swapping and reading out funny letters from fans, but what troubles me is the unusually flat silence to my left. There’s an absence of letters crinkling and Aaron’s laughter. I click off the phone, peering sideways. Damn it. Aaron was watching. He’d looked away at the last second, but I’d seen it. I throw the typed envelope back onto the unopened pile and turn to him. “Nathaniel messaged.”
“Yeah?” he says, tapping his knee. “And…”
“He’s leaving for New York. He’s on his way to the airport now.”
“Really.” He looks pleased, then worried.
“Is it weird not to be going with him?” I ask warily, wondering if he might change his mind and go with Nathaniel, back to the life they once shared. (Then I wouldn’t have to choose. I wouldn’t have a say in the matter at all.) My heart twists uncomfortably, as if I might soon be missing a part of it. Weird, but I’d miss them both. Maybe one mo
re than the other.
Aaron gives me a hard look. “Nathaniel is one of the best fighters I know. I trained him personally. Even if Hunt, Hamada, and Brewster were all down for the count, Nate could get himself out of almost any situation if it came to that. He’ll be fine without me.”
“Are you telling me that, or yourself, Aaron? Because I don’t think you quite believe that.”
“Not holding back today, are you?”
I shrug. I suppose I’m tired of the games. And I can’t stop thinking that he’s been with someone else, even though we’ve silently put it behind us. Part of me wonders if I should’ve gone with my gut instinct and told him to move out, end it quickly, but the show, our music… He’s so woven into my life that it feels impossible to break him free.
He shrugs. “Alright. It’s weird not going with him. It’s been my responsibility to look after the guy, and Damien, for the past three years—”
I’d completely forgotten about Damien. Aaron has always protected his brother and Nathaniel wherever they went. Now he can’t. And Nathaniel, this will be the first time that he’s travelling without Aaron since Damien died.
“—but, honestly, I’m happy to be staying here. I have you, the music show, a new house. Why would I want to be anywhere else?” He smiles, but his eyes are dark, pensive, as if he might want to be on the other side of the world with his former best friend.
“You have me?” I laugh, bumping his arm. “A little presumptive, aren’t we?”
“I’ll admit we’ve gotten off to a rocky start, but I’m going to win you over in the end. You’ll see.”
I roll my eyes. “You sound like Nathaniel.”
“To be expected. Spend as much time with the guy as I have and it’s hard not to sound like a cocky, arrogant bastard.”
“Nice.” I shake my head, give him one last smile and stand. “I’ll be back soon.”
He stares at me strangely, then stands, too. “Actually, I’ll come with you.”
“Oh?”
Irritated, he heads for the door, looking back at me. “Are you coming?”
Ardent Strangers_An Ardent Strangers novel Page 20