The Truth About Lennon

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The Truth About Lennon Page 16

by K. L. Grayson


  “Probably not. But I wanted him to get to know me for me and not for who my parents are or who the tabloids say I am.”

  Charlotte nods as I talk. “And he has. Listen—” Taking my glass, Charlotte refills it and hands it back. “Noah is a great guy, the best of the best. He may be upset that you kept this from him, but he’ll be level-headed about it.”

  I pull my bottom lip between my teeth. “You think?”

  “Absolutely. He might be upset at first, but you can explain everything, and then you two can put it behind you. That night doesn’t define you, Lennon.”

  Now if only Noah will see it the same way. “I know. You’re right.”

  Charlotte blows on her fingernails and buffs them on her shirt. “I’m always right.”

  I tip my glass toward hers, and she clinks it softly. “I’m sorry,” I say.

  She pulls her glass back. “For what?”

  “I won’t be making it for drinks this weekend.”

  “Pssh.” She waves me off. “Don’t think twice about it.”

  I draw in a nice, big breath, and when I blow it out, I try to let go of all of my insecurities. Tomorrow night after Nova goes to bed, I’ll tell Noah everything: who my parents are and the real reason I came to Heaven, and then we’ll have crazy make-up sex and all will be good.

  I smile to myself as the bell rings on the front door of the shop, signaling someone’s entry.

  I glance at my watch and shoot Charlotte a look. “You expecting someone?”

  She shakes her head. “Be right there,” she hollers, handing me her wine glass.

  Charlotte peeks her head around the corner and whips back around, eyes wide.

  “Oh shit. Okay.” I set both glasses down and reach for my purse. “Stay calm. I’ve got mace,” I whisper.

  “No,” she whispers, laughing. “The guy who just walked in is hot.”

  “Oooh,” I croon. No one is as hot as Noah, but I can play along for the sake of our friendship. “How hot is hot?”

  “Like three-piece suit, just-walked-off-the-set-of-an-Armani-ad hot. Tall. Blond. Lean.” Charlotte fans herself and whispers, “Wish me luck.” Then she disappears around the corner.

  I can hear them talking, but with the music coming through the speakers, I can’t quite make out what they’re saying.

  Three seconds later, she walks back around the corner.

  “Did you get his number?” I ask, looking at my phone. “Or maybe you need me to leave so—”

  “He’s here for you.”

  The bleak tone of her voice brings me to full attention. Charlotte’s lips are pressed into a grim line, the color gone from her face.

  There are really only two men who could elicit that sort of reaction from someone: my dad or Mathis.

  And since my dad isn’t blond, that leaves only one option.

  With a calm I didn’t know I possessed, I tuck my phone in my pocket and stand. Charlotte wraps a hand around my arm.

  “Want me to come with you?”

  “No.” I shake my head and round the corner.

  If I was any other woman, the sight of Mathis—tall, freshly shaven, and dressed to the nines—leaning against the front counter would surely drop me to my knees. He’s always been breathtaking. Well-dressed, perfectly tousled blond hair, a sleek, square jaw without an ounce of stubble, and a devastating smile that apparently—behind my back, of course—made women everywhere drop their panties.

  Lucky for me, I see past what’s on the outside, and his inside is ugly.

  “What the hell are you doing here, Mathis?”

  “I see you’re still mad at me,” he says, giving me a cocky smile.

  There’s nothing I want more than to reach out and smack that look right off of his face, but that would mean I’d have to touch him, and I will not touch Mathis Perry.

  “Gee, I wonder why.” Crossing my arms over my chest, I put on my invisible armor. Mathis is good at charming his way out sticky situations. “Did you really come here to rehash all of the reasons I hate you?”

  My words hit their mark, and Mathis’s smile falters. “Hate is such a strong word to come from such a beautiful mouth.” His eyes roam over my body, but the look doesn’t affect me the way it used to—the way he wants it to. “You changed your hair. It looks nice.”

  “Enough, Mathis,” I growl. “What the hell are you doing here?”

  “Isn’t it obvious?” He holds his arms out. “I came for you. I want you.”

  “You lost me when you screwed my best friend and then again when you told the cops—”

  “And you never let me explain…or apologize,” he interrupts.

  Is he serious right now?

  “There’s nothing to explain, Mathis, and I don’t want your empty apologies. You stuck your dick inside another woman when you were in a committed relationship. You lied and got me arrested. Created rumors I still can’t get rid of.”

  Not much gets to Mathis, but surprisingly, he flinches at my words. “Lizzie meant nothing to me,” he says. “She was a mistake.”

  “Then what about the rest of the women that you cheated on me with? What were they?”

  Fuck. Why am I even doing this with him?

  “It doesn’t matter.” I wave my hand dismissively. “Even if I could move past your sexual indiscretions—which I can’t and won’t—do you really think I could get past everything else you’ve done? We’re over, Mathis. You need to understand that.”

  “We’re not over,” he says, eerily calm. “We’ll never be over, Leni. You. Are. Mine. We belong together. We deserve this.”

  I open my mouth to talk, but Mathis keeps talking.

  “Your parents thought it was best you get away, and it probably was, so I let you come here and have some time to yourself. But if you think for one second that playing house and shacking up with some low-life single dad would—”

  My hand whips through the air so quickly that even I don’t see the impact coming. Mathis’s head reels back when my palm connects with his cheek, cutting off his hateful words.

  “Don’t you ever speak about Noah like that again,” I seethe, closing the distance between us. I shove at his chest, anger and adrenaline pumping through my veins, sending him back another step. “He’s twice the man you’ll ever be.”

  “He’s no one,” he spits, gritting his teeth as he rubs his jaw. “He’s a fucking mechanic.”

  Blood pumps through my body with so much force that my head throbs. My skin is on fire. “I don’t care what he is or what he does, because he’s mine!” I yell. “He’s kind and gentle. He compliments me and treats me with respect, and I love him more than I ever loved you.”

  No truer words have ever come from my mouth.

  I love Noah.

  I love him.

  My only regret is that the first time I said so, it wasn’t to him.

  “You barely know him,” Mathis throws back.

  Out of the corner of my eye, I see Charlotte peek around the corner, phone pressed to her ear, and I can only imagine what’s going through her head. This isn’t me. I don’t fight and sling hateful words at people. This is what Mathis brings out in me: the worst. And I’m done letting him influence me.

  My love for Noah seeps through my heart, filters through every cell in my body, and plants itself in my soul.

  “It doesn’t matter,” I say, my anger slowly dissipating.

  “You’ve been brainwashed.” Mathis shakes his head in disgust. “You can’t fall in love with someone that fast.”

  Just thinking about Noah and the times we’ve spent together makes me smile. The food fight. Making out on the bleachers. Cooking dinner. Having a tea party with Nova. Making love to him—oh, yes, all the times we’ve made love.

  “I did. I fell madly in love with him and his daughter. This is my home now; they are part of my life. You are not.”

  Mathis’s chest heaves harder with each word I say. His fists clench tight at his side, fire blazing from his eyes
. He’s never hit me before, and I’ve never been scared that he would, but instinctively, I take a step back. Mathis grabs my arm.

  “I’m your life,” he growls, yanking me forward.

  The front door flies open, the bell above the door clanging loud against the glass as Noah storms into the shop. His eyes lock on Mathis’s hand as Mathis spins around.

  “Let her go.” Noah’s voice remains calm, but I can tell he’s anything but.

  Mathis glares at Noah, and they have some sort of stand-off. After several seconds, I jerk my arm away, and Mathis lets me go. I run straight into Noah’s arms.

  He wraps me up, pulling me tight against his side. “You hurt?” he asks, examining the red finger marks on my arm.

  “I’m fine,” I whisper, the emotion from everything finally catching up to me. “You make everything fine.”

  He kisses me softly, and Mathis cackles loud and long from where he’s retreated across the room. “Well, isn’t this fucking beautiful?” he declares in a voice that can only mean trouble.

  I bury myself against Noah, because when I’m in his arms, nothing Mathis says can get to me.

  “Kind of surprising,” Mathis says, taking a step toward us, “that you’d choose another druggy after what happened to Kim.”

  Except that—that can get to me.

  Noah’s body goes rigid against mine, but I rejoice when he keeps his arms firmly locked around me.

  “Wait?” Mathis wags his finger at Noah and me. “You did tell him, didn’t you?”

  “Mathis.” I shake my head, silently pleading with him. “No one needs to hear any more of your lies. Why are you doing this?”

  “Why am I doing this?” he admonishes. “Because you’re mine.” His voice booms through Charlotte’s shop, loud and strong. “You’re a St. James. Your father is likely going to be our next vice president.”

  I feel Noah’s eyes on me as Mathis speaks, but I can’t look up. Not yet. I don’t have the courage. So I stay focused on Mathis, absorbing each hateful hit, one syllable at a time.

  “Do you really think he’s going to let you be with someone like him?” he spits, motioning toward Noah, who has now released his arm from around my waist.

  “What’s he talking about?” Noah says softly.

  Closing my eyes, I gather every last bit of courage I can find and hold on to the knowledge that Noah and I are meant to be together, and that he will forgive me for what I’ve kept from him once he understands. When I open my eyes, Noah’s watching me curiously. He doesn’t look pissed, but he sure as hell doesn’t look happy.

  “Oh, this is getting better by the minute,” Mathis says. “You failed to tell him that part too, didn’t you? Well, let me do it for you—”

  “Mathis—”

  “Lennon is heir to the Barrick-St. James empire, and oh, what an empire it is.”

  “Mathis, don’t,” I plead.

  “Her father, Christopher St. James, owns one of the biggest companies in the country and will likely be your next vice president. But it gets better,” he says, taking a step toward Noah.

  Hate for Mathis overpowers every other emotion I’m feeling, and it pushes me forward. I shove at his chest, but he just laughs at me.

  “Her mother is Renee Barrick, one of the most powerful A-list celebrities in the country. You’ve heard of her, right?”

  I push again, harder and harder, shoving him back each time, but he doesn’t stop. My anger only fuels his until his words explode around me.

  “And tell him about the drugs, Leni.”

  “You son of a bitch! You know damn well those weren’t my drugs.” I take a step toward Mathis. When his eyes shift, I quickly whirl around to face Noah. “Don’t listen to him,” I beg, rushing toward him. But Noah doesn’t spare me a glance. His eyes are on Mathis. I grab his hand in mine. “He’ll say anything to rip us apart. He’s lying. Don’t listen to him.”

  But Mathis isn’t done. “Tell him about the arrest and the tabloids and the drugs and how your parents forced you out of town.”

  Desperately, I grab Noah’s face and pull it toward mine. His eyes are cold and lifeless. “Please. Please look at me Noah. You know me. I should have explained all of this a long time ago—”

  “How the fuck did you not know?” Mathis says, flinging his words at Noah. “Don’t you watch the news? Her face was plastered everywhere for weeks. She’s Leni Fucking Barrick, for God’s sakes.”

  Mathis turns toward me, shaking his head.

  “This is ridiculous, and this is exactly why you shouldn’t be with someone like him. He’s no one.” He jabs a finger toward Noah, who finally reacts.

  Stepping around me, Noah stalks forward, his giant frame eating the space between them as he crowds Mathis against the wall. Mathis squares his shoulders, puffing out his chest as he prepares to go head to head, but I know I can’t let Noah get into a fight. I won’t let him stoop to Mathis’s level because of me.

  “Noah—” I take a step toward them, but someone grabs my arm, stopping me. I twirl around. Charlotte shakes her head.

  “Let him handle this,” she whispers.

  A part of me is pissed at Charlotte for calling Noah, the other part of me grateful. But I yank my arm out of her grip.

  “Get the fuck out,” Noah growls.

  “Fuck you—”

  Noah’s arm whips back and his fist connects with Mathis’s face. The crack rings loud through the small space, and Mathis’s head flings to the side, blood spewing everywhere.

  Covering his nose and mouth, Mathis tries to stop the bleeding, but it’s no use. Blood seeps through his fingers and runs down his chin.

  “This is really who you want? Someone like him?” Mathis screeches at me.

  Noah pulls his arm back once more, but I lunge forward, wrapping my hands around his bicep.

  “Yes.” I tug on Noah’s arm, and he lowers it, but I don’t let him go because I need to be touching him. I need the connection. I need to know we’re okay—that we’ll be okay. “He’s everything I’ll ever want. He’s so much more than you’ll ever be.”

  With a disgusted shake of his head, Mathis plows out the front door, leaving a trail of blood behind him. “This isn’t over,” he calls over his shoulder.

  The door slams shut, and Noah shrugs out of my hold.

  “Noah.” I take a hesitant step toward him, but he dodges, stepping around me. My stomach drops, dread rolling through me. “Please, let me—”

  “Would you just give me one goddamn second to process this?” he shouts, pacing away from me. Running his hands down his face and through his hair, Noah takes several deep breaths. His body vibrates with energy, the vein on the side of his neck pulsing, and all I want to do is close this rift between us.

  The enormous gap I created.

  “Please,” I beg, trying again, but Noah whirls around.

  “Fine.” Noah turns to me, nostrils flared, chin held high. “You want to talk? We’ll talk.” I hate the tightness in his voice, but mostly I don’t like that my secrets are hurting him. “Who the fuck are you, Lennon? Or is it Leni? Is your last name Barrick or St. James? You’re my goddamn girlfriend, and I don’t even know your real fucking name.” His voice rises with each word, and I flinch as it gets louder and louder.

  “Calm down, Noah.” Charlotte steps up next to me, no doubt to give me strength, and oh, how I wish I could absorb some of hers right now.

  But I can’t. I created this mess, and I’ve got to be the one to clean it up.

  Noah nods toward Charlotte. “Did she know?”

  Charlotte opens her mouth, but I rest my hand against her arm. “Charlotte recognized me when she first saw me.”

  Noah heaves a frustrated breath, his eyes darting toward Charlotte. “Would you give us a minute?”

  She purses her lips, and I can tell she doesn’t want to leave. She knows the truth, and it’s killing her that Noah is upset with me. But after several long seconds and one glare toward Noah, Charlotte turns
and walks toward the back of the shop.

  Clearing my throat, I run my hands along the front of my jeans and tell Noah everything he wants to know. “My full name is Lennon Barrick-St. James. Renee Barrick is my mother.”

  His brown eyes bore into me. “You told me she was a Broadway actress.”

  I nod. “She was…when she first started out. Since then her career has…grown. And she did recently retire from acting. I didn’t lie to you about that.”

  “And your father?”

  “Christopher St. James. He’s Joseph Morgan’s running mate for the upcoming election. My mother wouldn’t change her last name, so they hyphenated mine. In my parents’ world, I’m known more as Leni Barrick.”

  “In your parents’ world,” he mumbles to himself before running a hand through his hair. “What the fuck is that even supposed to mean, your parents’ world?”

  “They live a different life than we do, Noah. They’re all glitz and fancy dinners and charity auctions. They wouldn’t know the meaning of a hard day’s work if it slapped them in the face.”

  His brows dip low. “You say they, but that’s your life, too. That’s the life you come from.”

  I shake my head. “Yes, I was born into that life, but that’s not who I am. Why do you think I was never in the public eye? Why do you think no one here knows who I am? I’m nobody, Noah. Until recently, I hadn’t been in the news in years. I’ve worked my ass off to separate myself from that world for a reason—because I don’t want that life. I don’t want what it represents. I don’t want to be a product of my environment.”

  “And yet you lied to me.”

  The pain in his eyes it too much, and I walk toward him, wrapping my arms around his middle.

  “Instead of talking to me about it, you lied to me.”

  Noah’s arms hang limp at his sides, and I hate it. The familiar burn starts in my nose, and it’s only a matter of seconds before my eyes fill with tears.

  “I’m sorry,” I sob, burying my face in his chest, absorbing his warm scent because I’m absolutely terrified I’ll never smell it again. “I just wanted a fresh start. I wasn’t trying to be deceitful. You have to know that that wasn’t my intention.”

  He scoffs. “I don’t know what to think. You kept a part of yourself from me. I gave you everything, put all of my secrets and insecurities out there for you to see, and you fucking kept yourself from me.”

 

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