Jump Then Fall

by Alyssia Kirkhart

  The officer laughed. “Must be.”

  The airport was crazy. Neon everywhere, shops and slot machines. I didn’t notice we were near the exit until I heard the screams. Barricades held back at least three dozen teenage girls. They were jumping up and down. Yelling Lawson’s name. Waving photos, cds, vinyl records and pens in the air to get his attention.

  “Now you see why we need security?” said Katie as the lead officer held up his hand in, what I realized was, an effort to discourage anyone from breaching the metal barriers. “Everywhere we go. Doesn’t matter how secretive we try to be—and, believe me, we try, but they always know. That you two haven’t been bombarded on one of your outings, well…Miracles happen every day.”

  Indeed. We hadn’t been, as Katie pointed out, bombarded. Sure, people had recognized Lawson. A few had approached him, shaken his hand. For the most part, he’d been allowed his privacy, like anyone else.

  “You played a big role in that, though,” I reminded her, and she shrugged.

  “Part of the job.”

  “How long have you been with him?”

  “Since the beginning.”

  “Hey, give me a minute.” Lawson let go of my hand, giving Katie the universal one second signal when she barked a protest.

  “Lawson!” Her hands slapped against her thighs. “Gah, I hate it when he…”

  Deafening screams drowned out the last bit of Katie’s sentence.

  Lawson was signing autographs. Posing for selfies, his smile an absolute marvel in every shot. He shook hands, didn’t balk when arms were thrown around his neck, said thank you, good to see you, too, thank you so much like a record caught on a piece of fuzz, skipping, skipping, skipping.

  “That’s why he’s so popular.” Katie kicked her chin toward Lawson. “He’s good to them. Gives his time, his attention, and they love him for it.”

  The limo ride to the MGM Grand consisted of Katie relaying Lawson’s schedule for the rest of the day and evening. Ten minutes to change clothes, then on to the arena for sound check, rehearsal, a prescheduled interview, five minutes for food, a panel with several other artists and the press, a brief meet-and-greet, another car ride.

  I listened, but only partially. Outside, massive buildings rose above palm trees and fountains. Heavy traffic slowed us down, but I didn’t mind. Tourist Harper had arrived and there was no stopping her eyes from gobbling up every morsel they could, even if it was from the shaded window of a limousine. The city lived up to everything I’d ever read or heard about Vegas. At least, from this view it did. There were glowing signs, shops, spas, restaurants and people. So many people. Lights, glamour, animation and wealth. Damn, I mouthed, wondering how much of it I would get to see, if Lawson’s schedule even allowed for nonconformity.

  “Okay,” I responded to whatever Katie had just said that included my name.

  “And if the cameras become too much, remember, look above, not straight into them,” she went on, narrating as I gawked at the scenery, “and, for heaven’s sake, don’t answer questions about your relationship.”

  That. That’s what grabbed my attention. “I’m sorry, what?”

  She was sitting across from Lawson and me, phone in hand, looking at me as if I’d just asked for fish-flavored ice cream. “Have you been listening to anything I’ve said?”

  “Not really.”

  Lawson chuckled softly.

  “Red carpet, cameras, potential interviews.” Katie flicked her hand. “Anything?”

  “She’ll be fine.” Lawson’s hand settled above my knee. “Right, Columbus? You’re good. We’re all good.”

  “Uh huh.” But I wasn’t good. I was nervous as hell.

  The record label had booked two suites. I thought Katie and I would be sharing, but Lawson laid my assumptions to bed when he didn’t let go of my hand until we were in his room.

  The moment the lock snicked, he had me against the door, his hands in my hair and his lips on mine.

  “Hey!” Katie called from the other side. “Ten minutes! You only have ten minutes and you still have to change! No funny business!”

  Lawson laughed against my mouth. “Funny business. Who says that?”

  “Very organized people, apparently.” Shit, he was sexy. I felt like that chick in The Night Manager when Tom Hiddleston pulled her in his hotel room, and they had frantic sex against the wall. I ran my fingers through the back of his hair, down his neck. I wished we were having sex against the wall. “So, what should I do?”

  His head bent and he kissed my neck. “Anything you want.”

  “Well, I assume I can’t come with you.”

  “No. Not until tonight.” He pulled back, set a hand to the door beside my head. His expression was rueful. “Sorry. But I promise you’ll love the show.”

  “And the red carpet?” I was still nervous about the idea of walking with him in front of people. Of flashing cameras, other celebrities, being out in the open like that. Not that I’d never been out in the open before. I wasn’t a zoo animal. It’s just that I’d never anticipated that level of exposure while I was with Lawson. The event was live. Televised.

  “You’ll be fine.” He kissed my forehead. Then my nose. “I can’t wait for people to see you, meet you.”

  “What if I fuck something up?” The words rushed out before I could catch them.

  Lawson’s eyes flashed with amusement. “What exactly do you think you’ll be doing, Columbus? It’s not spelling bee or a mathletes competition, it’s an awards show. You sit back and enjoy the music and the atmosphere.”

  “For your information, Mr. Hill, I wasn’t in mathletes.” I kissed the cleft of his chin. “But I was state spelling bee champion and you’re right. I’ll be fine. I just…want you to shine.”

  “With you on my arm? Not a problem.”

  Within twenty minutes of Lawson leaving for rehearsal, I realized Katie hadn’t just come along to take care of Lawson. She’d made a separate schedule especially for me. A team of people from the hotel spa appeared at the door, asked if I was Miss Harper Evans and, at my assent, said they were there to assist in getting me ready and set up shop inside the room.

  I showered with the body wash and scrub they gave me. A heady blend of almond and sandalwood that carried enough masculinity to make me think of Lawson the entire time I was in the shower. Maybe that was the point. This was his night, after all. How could I not focus on him? Problem was I couldn’t stop imagining it was his hands on my body, not my own. His fingers massaging my legs, my bottom, my breasts. By the time I washed my hair, shaved my legs and bikini line, my libido had risen to the point I was slick with need.

  Desperate to relieve the ache, I masturbated in the shower.

  Wasn’t the first time.

  Usually I preferred my bed, but I couldn’t help myself. Couldn’t stop my fingers from circling my clit, envisioning he was there, too, watching. Wanting me. Stroking himself as I’d wanted to stroke him, because, damn, kissing wasn’t enough anymore. Touching his hair, face, neck, arms wasn’t enough anymore. I didn’t want limitations. I wanted him. All of him, in every way possible. Back against the tiled wall, eyes closed, I came fast, hard, my gasps drowned out by the steady spray from the showerhead.

  A knock at the door, followed by a tentative, “Miss Evans? Are you okay? We really need to move on to your hair, if possible.”

  My answered, “yes,” was breathless. Body pulsing, I swallowed and tried again. “Just a minute.”

  It took five, but I pulled myself together. Dried off, slipped on the matching bra and panty set I’d bought specifically for the occasion. Wrapped myself in the white spa robe they’d given me.

  From there, the professionals took over. Nails and toes filed, buffed and painted with a neutral shade of pinkish taupe. Hair blown out and swept back into a soft, feminine ponytail. Makeup that wasn’t overly done but enhanced my eyes and the fullness of my lips. As I was stepping into my dress, Katie popped in to grab Lawson’s suit.

&nbs
p; She paused to give me a full once-over.

  “Very nice.” She moved around me as if I was a statue at a museum. “Subtle. Elegant. I added some inserts to your heels, since you’ll be in them for a while tonight.”

  “Thanks.” Nervousness pushed its way up my throat all over again. This was really happening. I was accompanying Lawson Hill to an awards ceremony.

  “Don’t freak out on me, okay?” She tucked Lawson’s dress shoes beneath her arm, then moved a tendril that’d been left to frame my face further back toward my ear. “The press is super excited Lawson’s here.”

  “Well…” Confusion bent my brows together. “That’s a good thing. Right?”

  “He may or may not have told them he’s writing and working up a new album, something that sounds different from anything they’ve ever heard from him before.”

  “Okay.” I drew out the word, not understanding where she was going.

  “A reporter asked what inspired him to step outside his musical comfort zone.”

  She didn’t finish. She stared at me, and while she didn’t appear upset or angry, she wasn’t smiling, either. No, it was concern I saw in her eyes. Mingled with fear.

  Realization bit at my cheeks, heating them. “Katie.”

  “It’s fine.” She caught the eye of one of the spa employees. “Can you make sure she’s zipped up, please? I’ve gotta keep Mr. Hill on schedule.” Her hand seized mine, squeezed. Her head tilted. “You look beautiful, Harper. Just smile, okay? Smile until your cheeks hurt and then smile some more. He’ll be here in a few minutes to pick you up. Okay?”

  I nodded vigorously, though I felt close to hurling. He’d mentioned me to a reporter. In a room full of people. People who were hanging on his every word, writing, recording. What had he been thinking? Sure, I held a certain ignorance when it came to Lawson’s world of celebrity, but some things—some things you just understood. A famous person opening up too much about his personal life was a big no-no. Lawson knew that. This wasn’t his first rodeo, so to speak.

  The spa crew had no sooner wiped every last trace of their presence from the room and left me to my over-panicked thoughts than a tap-tap-tap came to the door.

  I could do this. One night, a whole lot of smiles, and everything would go back to normal. Whatever normal was now I’d met Lawson Hill. I wasn’t sure. But I would survive.

  Pulling in a breath, I opened the door, and nearly

  lost

  my

  shit.

  Goosebumps scraped down my arms as I drank him in like a woman starved to lay eyes on the last good-looking man on planet earth before she finally, finally takes her last breath. Is this what I’d been reduced to? A wordless, brainless, slack-jawed groupie?

  Apparently so.

  He wore a black suit with a signature white button-down, black tie with a slender gold clip about halfway down. And black Chucks.

  Funnily enough, it was the sneakers that calmed my desperation. “I could’ve sworn Katie left out of here with a pair of dress shoes.”

  “She knows I don’t wear them.” His eyes took me in with a precision that stirred my blood. His throat worked before he spoke, “Wow, Harper, you look…”

  I passed a hand over the gold brocade of the sleeveless sheath dress. Simple and, as Katie had pointed out, elegant, even though I wasn’t exactly sure how elegant felt. Looking up at him from under my lashes, I said, using his words, “Like an amen?”

  His smile tugged at my insides.

  At the mind that he’d woven himself into.

  At the heart that knew better than to allow a fall this hard but did it anyway.

  “Like an amen.” He offered his arm. “Shall we?”

  chapter fifteen

  “Breathe, baby. You got this.”

  In the series of seconds that ticked by, from the limo gliding to a halt, the door on Lawson’s side opening, Lawson’s hand giving my thigh a final squeeze and, thank goodness for small favors, his soothing voice telling me to breathe, baby, I suddenly understood why the heart had to be encaged. Because otherwise it would’ve shoved itself up my throat from sheer overexertion.

  Lawson stepped out first, looking like every woman’s fantasy as he buttoned his suit jacket and waved to a plethora of flashes and subsequent screams. Then he reached for me, head ducked inside the door, eyes connecting with mine.

  “You’re up, Columbus.”

  I hadn’t asked him about the panel. About what he’d said and why he’d said it. I could’ve lied to myself, declared there wasn’t an opportune time. But the truth was I chose to skirt humiliation. What if I suggested something that might’ve been nothing? After all, I hadn’t been there. He could’ve alluded to zilch, for all I knew. Maybe Katie had just taken it as more. She was protective of him, careful with his image. Made sense she’d be overly cautious when it came to what he mentioned to the media. I didn’t doubt damage control was part of the job.

  The bass line of an Abba song thumped in my chest as my brand-new Jimmy Choos touched the crimson carpet. Thank goodness for Lawson’s grip on my hand. He didn’t falter. Didn’t lose balance. Masterfully, he smiled, waved, nodded and managed to show attentiveness toward me, all at once.

  Fluid movements.

  Graceful.

  Professional.

  I gazed up at him, my heart beating a mad staccato. Gimme, gimme, gimme a man after midnight, won’t somebody help me chase the shadows away…The familiar lyrics crooned from the loudspeakers, a fitting soundtrack to how handsome he was, how charming and yet enigmatically unpretentious. His blinding smile flashed in the lights of a million cameras.

  “Lawson! Over here!”

  He stopped and pulled me in to his side, slipping an arm around my waist. “Right there.” He pointed to the camera, then dropped his hand.

  I looked.

  Squared my shoulders.

  Sucked in.

  Held my breath for one, two, three beats.

  Smiled.

  The reporter took the shot, looked at the LCD screen, and gave a thumbs up.

  “Doin’ great.” Lawson took my hand again. “Let’s keep moving.”

  Unease blossomed in my stomach, and I set a hand there. “I don’t know how you do this.”

  “No?”

  “It’s a lot.”

  “It is a lot,” he acknowledged, “but they’re nice, for the most part. You get a few bad apples every now and again, people poking their noses where they don’t belong. As long as they stick to the music, I’m good. No personal questions.”

  But the way Katie had told it, he had gotten personal.

  A few feet ahead, two reporters with microphones beckoned. Lawson brought his lips to the curve of my ear. “Don’t go anywhere,” he said and released my hand to join them. Obediently, I stood to the side, hands clasped in front of me, watching as he handled his fame with the same ease as he handled everything else.

  “Hey, everybody!” The female reporter, blonde, beautiful and runway-thin, wore a strapless black gown and an animated expression. “We just grabbed Lawson Hill. Lawson, you were kind enough to stop by, but you’re always kind, it’s so good to see you!”

  “It’s good to be seen, Grace, thank you. Thanks for having me.”

  “Now, you’ve been to plenty of awards shows,” the male reporter cut in, “including the Grammys, which you’ve been nominated for and won several times over in several categories. What’s it like coming here again to Vegas? Does it feel any different?”

  “Well, country music’s got a special spirit. The artists have an extraordinary connection with their fans and of course, you know, there’s the music.”

  “Of course.” The man laughed. “And your fans bring a lot of energy.”

  “They really do, yeah. I’ve certainly been blessed with great fans.”

  “Now, you’re performing tonight,” said the woman, Grace, and Lawson nodded. “Any hint for our listeners and viewers as to what they can expect to hear from you tonight?”
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  He glanced at me and warmth coiled around my heart. “Something old, something new, both with a different spin than what anyone’s ever heard from me. How’s that?”

  “Ooh!” The reporters looked at one another, then at the camera. The man said, “You hear that, folks? Lawson Hill’s got a surprise for us tonight. Well, good luck to you, man. We’re looking forward to it.”

  Lawson thanked both of them again while my heart punched at its cage. Excitement shot up my throat. I wanted to squeal. Jump up and down. Clap like an elated child on Christmas morning. He was everything.

  Beautiful.

  Smart.

  Kind.

  Funny.

  “Well?” He wrapped an arm around me, his hand on my waist. “How’d I do?”

  I tipped my head back and gazed at the starless sky. Shrugging, I said, “You did all right.”

  “Just all right?” He pinched my side and I squeaked. “You’d better be nice, Columbus. We’ve got a whole room to ourselves tonight and I’m not afraid to find out whether or not you’re ticklish.”

  Flames licked at my cheeks. “Who says I’m staying in your room?”

  “I say.” His eyes were a brilliant blue tonight and they stared boldly into mine, daring for the least bit of defiance on my part. “I didn’t bring you all the way to Vegas just to play board games.”

  My jaw came unhinged.

  “I mean, if we can’t tick off your bucket list of casinos, tattoo parlors and titty bars, what are we even doing?”

  Laughter burst out of me, so sudden, so loud, I snorted.

  Which made Lawson laugh.

  Good grief, this boy. “That was not funny.”

  “It was a little funny. Come on. I wanna introduce you to some people.”

  Some people turned out to be Faith Hill, Tim McGraw, Keith Urban, Nicole Kidman—for crying out loud, Nicole-freaking-Kidman. Was it possible to have a heart attack at eighteen? Because she was much more gorgeous in person. I couldn’t speak at first, but she was super chill and, soon, we were chatting about Vegas and how stupid it was that we practically had to yell to talk. Between the crowd noise and disco music, which she agreed was interesting choice for a country music awards show, we kept having to lean into each other to hear. Which was fine by me. She smelled amazing and spoke of Lawson like a proud mama. Such a sweet young man, she told me twice, before Lawson tugged my hand, indicating we needed to keep moving.