Blue Christmas (The Moody Blue Trilogy | Book One)

by Moody, Diane

  “Well, of course I do. How else could I explain you being here?”

  Their eyes locked for only a second before she attempted a smile then looked away. Suddenly his arm was over her shoulder.

  “See, I don’t think for a second that Mom really conned you away from that grocery store.”

  Heartbreaker, heartbreaker, heartbreaker . . . The warning pounded against her ears again like a fog horn. Careful, Hannah, careful.

  “I know for a fact that Santa dropped you off earlier this evening just before I came home. How do I know that, you ask? Because on my way home, I said a little prayer.”

  She made a face and started to interrupt—

  “Don’t laugh. It’s true. I did. I asked God to make this a very special Christmas. Not just for me but for my whole family. And I walk in the door and there you are. Part of the family on Christmas Eve. How else would I explain it?”

  Her cheeks warmed. “Jason, I think you need some sleep.”

  “I do. And so do you. But I have a favor to ask.”

  “No, your dog is not sleeping in my room.”

  He tossed his head back laughing. “Sorry, she’s already spoken for. No, this one’s selfish. A Christmas kiss. You. Me. Here. Now?” He paused, his eyes pleading. “I could grab some mistletoe if that would help.”

  Laura’s subtle warning about her son’s charm echoed over and over in her mind. But she couldn’t suppress the smile creeping up her face. Good grief. We only met a few hours ago and here I am, dying for him to kiss me. Gotta be a dream. I’ll wake up tomorrow and be totally depressed from the world’s longest, best dream. She felt him move a little closer beside her.

  “Look, you probably think I’m being kind of forward. But seriously, I’m not talking any deep down, tonsil-washing kiss or anything.”

  She chuckled, uneasy by the intensity in his eyes. Then, the sweetness of his gentle smile—a smile so familiar yet so sincere—sent a surge of heat from her head to her toes.

  “Just a little merry-Christmas-nice-to-know-you kiss. That’s all,” he breathed.

  “You mean ‘a quiet simple kiss’?”

  His smiled broadened at her reference to one of his famous lyrics. “That’s right. Just a quiet simple kiss.”

  No more voices in her head. No more excuses. She surrendered with the slightest nod of her head. She followed his searching eyes as he looked back and forth from her eyes . . . to her lips . . . to her eyes . . . She felt dizzy.

  Finally, he leaned down, his lips warm and moist against hers. She closed her eyes in the closest thing to heaven she’d ever known. He exhaled, a quiet sigh escaping from somewhere inside him. And then it was over.

  She savored the moment, refusing to open her eyes. “Never been kissed like that before,” she whispered.

  “Uh oh. Did I do something wrong?” he whispered back.

  “Oh no. You did everything perfect. That’s what I mean. It was . . . perfect.”

  He slipped his arm around her waist pulling her closer against his side. It felt so natural. Like a brotherly gesture.

  Only better. Much better.

  “Merry Christmas, Hannah.”

  “Merry Christmas, Jason.”

  Chapter 5

  Hannah showered and slipped into the pajamas Laura had left for her on the bed. She was pulling on the thick chenille robe when she heard a soft knock on the bathroom door. Scrambling to wrap the robe around her, she answered, “Yes?”

  “Hannah, it’s me Jason.”

  “Jason, what do you want?”

  “I was just thinking. Are you really that tired?”

  “Yes, I’m exhausted. Why?”

  “Well, hurry up and come out here and I’ll tell you.”

  She looked in the mirror, realizing she’d washed all her makeup off. Great. Now what? She ran a brush through her hair then sighed, knowing it was too late for any beauty tricks. She gathered her clothes and opened the door. Jason sat on the floor of her room—well, JT’s room—leaning against the wall spinning a basketball on his finger.

  “Jason, don’t you ever sleep? Do you know how late it is?”

  He jumped up still playing with the basketball. “I know, I know, but you’ve got to remember my day is my night.” His scrunched his face. “That didn’t make any sense, did it?”

  “Not exactly.” She headed over to her bed. JT’s bed . . .

  “Okay. See, when we’re on the road we’re up all night and sleep most of the day. And it’s impossible to get my times switched around. So downstairs, I thought I was tired until I realized I wasn’t.

  “You’re not making any sense.”

  “I know. So I was thinking—well, I was just wondering if you wanted to watch a movie or something. There’s a loft up here, just down the hall. Fireplace, entertainment center, you name it. C’mon, I can’t sleep and I’d love the company. What d’ya say?”

  “I’ll probably fall asleep.”

  “That’s okay. Just don’t drool on the furniture. Or me.”

  “I’ll try to remember that. Are you sure your parents won’t mind? We won’t disturb them, will we?”

  “No, their room is way down the hall. The loft is great—it’s my favorite room in the house. When the guys are here, it’s where we hang out. Come on, I’ll show you.”

  A fire crackled in the fireplace, the lighting was soft, and easy jazz filled the room over the sound system. Overstuffed chairs and sofas formed an intimate circle around the hearth. He opened a cabinet to browse an extensive DVD library.

  “Jason, can I ask you something?”

  “Sure. Shoot.”

  “You and Jackson and Gevin, JT and Sergio. What’s it like being who you are? I mean, do you feel like megastars and celebrities? Or is it just a way of life that you’re totally accustomed to. I can’t even begin to comprehend what your life is like.”

  He abandoned the search and sat down on the sofa beside her. “Actually, every morning I wake up, look in the mirror and admire myself—the famous, good looking one in the group, of course. Then I call my chef, order breakfast in bed, and tell Giles the butler what clothes I want from my twelve closets.” He propped his feet up on the coffee table in front of them. “It’s a tough life, but somebody’s gotta do it.”

  “Okay, okay, laugh all you want, but I’m serious. I’d really like to know.” She stretched her legs out on the table beside his, crossing them at the ankles.

  “I know, I know. I was just kidding. Look, I’m just as normal as you or anybody else on the face of the earth. I get hiccups, I blow my nose, I put my pants on one leg at a time just like the next guy. I’m sloppy and irresponsible at times. I get moody sometimes. I get tired of the guys I work with sometimes. They get tired of me. We argue and fight. Then we’ll get over it and laugh about it and go on. I don’t really know how to answer your question. This is my life and it’s all I’ve known since I was just a kid.”

  He arched his back in a slow stretch. “But I’ll never get used to the hysteria of all the fans. All the attention and hype. When that stuff hits, I mean, it’s like life kicks into this surreal realm that’s flat-out bizarre. It’s sooooo strange. I can’t even begin to explain it. Hannah, I will never understand why the five of us are anything special.”

  “You’re kidding—right?”

  “No, I’m totally serious. Why us? Why not five other guys? Okay, so we can sing and we play a little music, but c’mon—some of these kids throw themselves at us like we’re some kind of gods. That part scares me. And I always have to wonder why all this happened? Why us? Why me?”

  “That’s the part I can’t imagine, Jason. Does it get old? Do you wish it was different?”

  “No, I can honestly say I love it. Like I told you earlier—doing something you love and making a living doing it? Well it’s incredible. Being up on stage and singing and doing our sets—I feel so alive. I wish I could put you in my shoes so you could understand.”

  “But how do you stay so sane? It seems lik
e most celebrities are so full of themselves they can hardly function. But you’re so—”

  “Watch it—”

  “—down to earth. Meeting you, getting to know you—you’re so real. I’ve been with you all evening, and I still haven’t seen a trace of ego. How is that possible for someone who has millions of women all over the world obsessed with you?”

  Jason laughed. “Oh yeah, millions. But you have to remember most of them are adolescent. They’re just kids, Hannah.”

  “Not all of them. I’ve seen those pictures of you guys with the gorgeous models and actresses. Don’t give me this ‘just kids’ bull.”

  Jason’s face crimsoned. “Maybe not all of them. There are a few ladies out there. Okay, a lot of ladies. Hordes of ladies—”

  “I get the picture.”

  “And I’d be lying if I said I didn’t go out with some of them. All the guys have. But I’m tellin’ you now—what you see on TV ain’t what you get.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Some of them are really nice. Decent. All that. But the majority of them are unbelievable. They talk trash worse than any sailor. They’ll sleep with anything that moves. And all they want is to be seen with us to get themselves in front of a camera. You don’t know agony ’til you’ve been stuck with one of those losers. I guess what I’m trying to say, it isn’t always what it seems to be.”

  “So how do you come out of this when the time comes? How do you go from being rock star to regular guy again? Is it even possible? Will there ever come a time you can just walk into a restaurant without being mobbed?”

  “Oh yeah. Think about it. Remember NSync? Other than Timberlake, would you recognize one of those guys if he walked in the door right now? Or the Spice Girls? If you ran into one of them at the store, would you know who she was? See, right now it’s hard to imagine going back to a normal life, but it’ll come.”

  Hannah snuggled deeper into the sofa, wrapping her arms around herself. Jason grabbed a quilt off the back of the sofa and threw it over both of them. “Thanks, Jason. But how will you handle it in here?” she asked, tapping her heart. “How will you look in that mirror and say, ‘nobody knows who I am anymore’? How will you accept that and be okay about it? Think about what a major adjustment that will be. I wouldn’t think most people would handle it very well.”

  “I understand what you’re getting at. I think about it all the time. But I think I’m going to be so ready for the change when it comes. Ready to live a normal life again. I also give my parents some credit for instilling standards in my life that keep me on a reality check. Since the beginning of all this. They hold my feet to the fire and remind me who I am. And they pray for me all the time, too. That makes a huge difference.”

  He tucked the quilt around his legs. “Now it’s my turn.”

  “Your turn for what?”

  “To ask you a question.”

  “Fire away,” she moaned through a yawn.

  “Right now, tonight . . . when you think about this—I mean . . .”

  “You’re stammering. Spit it out, McKenzie.”

  “When we met tonight, you were pretty star struck.”

  She snorted. “That’s an understatement. Your point?”

  “So right here, right now. Who are you with? Me the celebrity, or me, the son of the lady who came through your lane at the store? I guess I’m wondering if you can get past the other stuff.”

  She stared into the fire. Tough question. Throughout the night she had not once forgotten that this was THE Jason McKenzie. The butterflies, the adrenaline. He was, after all, the idol of her teenage years. His picture had once plastered the walls of her room; his songs, engraved on her heart forever.

  Could she ever think of him any other way? He wasn’t just any ordinary guy. To think of him as a regular person, someone she could actually be “friends” with? Good question. Tonight had been so amazing. He already felt like a friend. He made it so easy. So incredibly easy.

  “Jason, it would be impossible for me to forget who you are. I’ve had such a ridiculous crush on you for so many years, it isn’t funny. Long after all my friends outgrew teen idol fantasies, if you must know.” She felt her cheeks warm again. “But after getting to know you tonight—spending this time with you and your family—it’s like I’ve gotten to know someone else entirely. I can’t separate what you are from who you are. But I can tell you this much.”

  “What?”

  “I like the person I’ve spent this evening with. He’s very real.”

  “Fair enough.”

  They talked for hours. They talked about life and dreams and family and friends. They never watched a movie. Hannah smiled at the thought. With sleepy eyes, she watched the fire slowly die, leaving behind only glowing embers coated with ash.

  Around 8:00 on Christmas morning, Laura padded down the hall with Frank close behind her. Finding Jason’s bedroom door open and his room empty, they also noticed Hannah’s door was open—her room also deserted. They stopped by the loft, smiling at the sight. Tiptoeing over to the sofa, they discovered Jason sitting with his head tilted back against the cushions, his long legs stretched out on the coffee table. Snuggled beneath a quilt, Hannah lay with her head on a pillow in his lap, Jason’s fingers woven through the dark tendrils of her hair. His soft snores made them smile.

  Frank rolled his eyes. “My son. Ever the heartbreaker.”

  Laura sighed happily, wrapping her arms around her husband’s waist. “She’s a nice girl, isn’t she?”

  His warm smile answered her question. “Yes, and apparently we’re not the only ones who think so.” He nodded toward his son’s sleeping image.

  She suppressed a laugh, not wanting to wake them. “Not a bad way to start Christmas, is it?” she whispered in his ear.

  Jason suddenly snorted out loud. His head moved in perfect rhythm as he mumbled in his sleep with the slightest hint of a melody. His lips continued to move, but they heard nothing. He was sound asleep.

  Chapter 6

  “Turn left at the light up there. The apartment complex is on the left. See it?”

  Jason maneuvered his black Escalade into the turn lane. The overnight storm had left the roads patchy with ice. The SUV slid around the corner. “Whoa, baby! That was fun.” His sarcasm penetrated the chilled interior of the vehicle as he regained control. “Guess it’s been a while since I drove on icy roads.”

  “No, really?” Hannah feigned innocence. She smiled at his appearance, his wandering hair tucked under a backward UNC baseball cap. The cold air pinked his cheeks, his eyes shining and alert as he concentrated on driving.

  “Well, of course, because I don’t get to—”

  “I was teasing, Jason. It’s obvious you aren’t used to this kind of driving.” She shook her head. “Anyone ever tell you you’re gullible?”

  “Me? No way. I knew you were teasing. I did.” He shot her a serious look. “I did!”

  “Sure you did. But that reminds me of something I wanted to ask you. What on earth would make a rock star drive a long trip like you made yesterday? You drove in from Atlanta, right? Is that where you live now?”

  “No, I live in L.A. I was in Atlanta for some meetings with one of our producers.”

  “So why didn’t you just fly?”

  “Simple. I needed the space. Time alone. Just me, my wheels, my tunes, and the open road. Driving gives me a chance to air out my brain, y’know?”

  “Makes sense. Oh, that’s my apartment there—the last one on the right. Just pull in the last space there.”

  He navigated into the space with great care, sliding only slightly to a stop. “Sit tight.” He opened his door. “I’ll get your door.”

  Another smile curled Hannah’s lips. Who said chivalry is dead? She looked up just as he slid past her window and dropped out of sight. She threw open her door, finding him sprawled flat on his back.

  “Jason! Are you okay?”

  His eyes tracked slowly to hers. A second
passed before they both burst out laughing. “I’ve fallen and I can’t get up!” he wailed like a little old lady. “Can you help me, dearie?”

  Hannah fell back in the seat laughing.

  “It isn’t that funny. A little help, here? I could use a hand, Hannah. That is, if you’re not too busy?”

  She couldn’t stop her giggles enough to sit up. Her legs hanging out of the vehicle above him, she felt him tugging on her shoe.

  “Hannah!”

  Finally gaining composure, she sat back up and looked at him. “I don’t know. I kind of like having you helpless.”

  “Come on, woman! Give me a hand.”

  She realized they must have looked like a Shriners clown routine at the Ice Capades as they slipped and slid all the way to her door. Her stomach ached from laughing so hard. “What I would give to have that on tape. It would get a trillion hits on YouTube.”

  “Very funny.” Jason wiped the wet snow off his rear. “Everybody wants a piece of me, and you want—”

  “I want you, got to have you—” she sang, exaggerating the reprise of the old Blue hit. “—gonna get you, and what’cha gonna do about it, ba-by!”

  He grabbed her, his gloved fingers attempting to tickle her through her heavy coat. Hannah shrieked in protest. “Stop! Jason—no!” she yelled between gasping giggles.

  He pulled her into a bear hug, face to face. “Shhhh! Do you want to wake the dead around here? Have a little heart for your neighbors, Hannah. Sheesh.”

  She struggled out of his grasp, fumbling with her keys, anxious to avoid another attack. Too late. She fell through the opening door, pushing him away at arm’s length.

  “STOP IT! I hate to be tickled! I mean it! Do NOT tickle me anymore!”

  He held his hands up in surrender. “Okay, okay—I get the message.” He looked around her apartment. “This is really nice, Hannah. Feels really—”

  “Cozy? I know it’s kinda small. But I’m not here that much. It’s really all I need right now.”