Jump Then Fall

by Alyssia Kirkhart

  I couldn’t.

  Couldn’t let him go.

  Because this.

  This was everything.

  He was all the world to me.

  How could one person feel this much indecision?

  My arms snaked around his neck, my fingers sliding into his hair, grabbing fistfuls. He brought his hands up my sides, exploring, brushing the curves of my breasts. I let out another moan, rising beneath him. Drawing back, he pressed his forehead to mine.

  I breathed his name.

  His eyes closed, crinkled at the sides.

  He came hard, grunting, shaking, and suddenly, I was shaking, too. Our gasps and cries tore through the darkness of Lawson’s bedroom. My lips parted over his, my body pulsing with the most intense orgasm of my life. He took my breaths. Took my sounds of pleasure as I throbbed around his erection.

  Seconds thrummed by in heartbeats. His. Mine. He rubbed my thigh in slow circles with the pad of his thumb, keeping my leg hitched against his waist. I wasn’t sure when that had happened, but it felt—he felt incredible.

  “If I wasn’t already pregnant,” I said, my lips moving against his neck, “after that, I’m pretty sure all doubt would be removed.”

  “Hmm.” Breaking away, Lawson shifted to his back. He pulled me close, and I tucked my head beneath his chin.

  He kissed my brow. “Harper?”

  “Yes?”

  “You’re not getting rid of me that easily.”

  chapter twenty-five

  It was hard to pinpoint when everything went wrong. When happiness and the somewhat sure feeling that all would be well and good, that Lawson and I would secure a plan to handle my dad, the baby and college, took a swan dive off Mount Everest.

  I’d written my dad. Poured out my heart that I missed him, and I wanted to understand and needed to see him, to tell him everything that had been going on in my life, none of which I wanted to say in a letter.

  He hadn’t answered.

  Or maybe he had, and I was being impatient.

  I’d also emailed the university housing director, informed her I wouldn’t be arriving early after all. She’d been understanding and pleasant. Assured me she was very much looking forward to meeting in a couple of weeks and would I please bring her a trinket from Nashville. Apparently, she collected knickknacks from all around the world and had yet to add a Tennessee-something to the mix.

  No, I supposed it might’ve made a wrong turn a couple of days after I told Lawson about the pregnancy. When we were reviewing the questions submitted to his Instagram.

  “How much do we have to tell them?” I asked. “Some of these are pretty personal.”

  How long have you been dating Harper? Have you kissed yet?

  While others were downright ugly.

  How could you date chick whose dad had sex with his student? Aren’t you worried her dad molested her, too?

  “You don’t have to tell them anything.” Katie was setting up an iPad for the livestream. “We’re doing this as a courtesy. Last thing we need is for Lawson’s fans to feel as if they’re out of touch with him. He loses a supporter for every second he remains silent.”

  “A little over the top, Katie, but thanks.” Lawson nudged his elbow against mine where we sat next to each other on the couch. The same couch where we met for the first time. The same couch where we’d made love. “You okay?”

  “Loaded question.”

  “Some aren’t so bad. We’ll answer those.” He scrolled through hundreds of messages. “And maybe a few of the hard ones.”

  My hands shook. I couldn’t get a grip on my nerves. Savana had texted earlier that she had every darn faith in the world I could sit by Lawson’s side for half an hour and do this. But the truth was I didn’t know how to be a sidekick to this level of celebrity—or any celebrity, for that matter. Sure, it was fun watching them do interviews. Joke, smile, laugh, turn on the charm. Lawson was good at all those things.

  I did well to bite my lip when I knew I’d said too much. And because I understood that about myself, I usually ended up shutting my mouth altogether.

  “So, you’re doing all the talking, right?”

  Lawson glanced at me from the side, beneath the veil of his thick lashes. Handsome as sin, he wore a pair of dark wash jeans and one of his signature-gray Henleys that clung to his shoulders, chest and arms. “They’ll probably wanna hear from you, too, darlin’. I want them to know you.”

  “Why?”

  Katie dropped a cable. Cursed.

  “Because you’re my girlfriend.” He laced our fingers. Kissed the back of my hand. “Because I’ve never made a habit out of hiding my life from my fans. That’s why I do social media, why I upload random videos to YouTube, why I drop songs that’ll never make it to an album to streaming services, why I allow them to submit questions they know I’ll answer in a livestream. They’re loyal to me, Harper. I’m obligated to return the favor.”

  “Five minutes,” Katie said.

  “You’re gonna be fine.” Lawson’s eyes were sincere. “Trust me, okay? I know people are saying a lot of things, Harper. Mean things, hateful things. But my fans? They’re not like that. All they want to do is hear from me. And they wanna meet you.”

  “The only thing I insist you keep off the table is the pregnancy.” Katie attached a tiny microphone to my shirt collar. “It’s soon. You haven’t even been to the doctor yet.”

  Heat tinged my cheeks.

  “I’m not saying it’s not important.” She hooked Lawson’s mic. “But until you’ve had a medical professional—”

  “I know,” I said, irritated, and her gaze snapped to mine.

  Her brows bent. “Well, you’re blushing.” She sounded defensive. Why? “I was just making sure…”

  “Enough, Katie. Okay?” The rebuke was gentle but firm, and I could tell by Katie’s expression Lawson didn’t speak to her in clipped tones very often, if ever. Her eyes batted several times before he said, “Harper’s going through a lot. This is a lot for her. And that’s okay, because we’re here to help.”

  My heart was beating so loudly in my ears I wondered if they could hear it, too.

  She stared at him for two seconds. “Of course.” Said through her teeth but with a smile. “I’m sorry for coming across the wrong way. Are we ready, then?”

  One small battle won, but in my heart, I knew it wouldn’t be the last.

  Answering questions was easy enough. A lot of fans sent in the basics everybody wants to know about their favorite artist. How many instruments do you really play? Where do you get your inspiration for songwriting? What was the name of your first crush? What song do you wish you had written? What tv show is your guilty pleasure? What’s the name of your dog?

  “Um, we haven’t thought of one yet.” He looked at me, brows raised. “Have we?”

  “Uhh…not yet.” Our puppy was curled up in my lap, snoozing. “Maybe you guys can make suggestions?” I tried to sound casual, address the tiny green dot on the iPad where thousands of people watched from their electronic devices. I could do this. I could speak to an audience I couldn’t see. No problem whatsoever.

  But in addition to the question that were sent in, dozens popped up on the live feed, as well. Rapidly. They started with greetings and well-wishes, praise for Lawson’s performance at the awards show, followed by name recommendations for the puppy. Bella, Sophie, Luna, Betty, Boop, Zoe.

  “Wow, these are really good! Thank you guys!” Lawson was so genuine, beaming like a pro. “Let’s see.” He leaned forward, squinted a little. “How did you and Harper meet?” His eyes found mine, held for a couple of seconds. “We met through a mutual friend.”

  I imitated his smile, remembering that night.

  Lawson read the next question. “This one’s for Harper. Are you in school?”

  “I’m attending school overseas in the fall.”

  The live feed got faster, more comments and questions poured in.

  That’s so cool! Where a
re you going?

  Wow, you’ve got a smart girl, Lawson!

  What do you plan to study?

  Does that mean you’ll have a long-distance relationship?

  Those were the nice ones. The considerate few. The people who, I decided, adored Lawson, regardless of what he chose to do with his private life. I was careful how I answered. Britain, I answered one. Law, eventually, I said to another.

  But then there were these:

  Have you seen your father?

  Did he really do it?

  Aren’t you worried about your career, Lawson?

  Why did your dad have sex with a student? That’s freaking weird…

  No, it’s disgusting, that’s what it is.

  Makes me sick.

  I heard he’s pleading guilty.

  LOL…no sense in denying the truth.

  If the floor would’ve miraculously opened into a wide, gaping hole, I’d’ve leapt into it. Squeezed my eyes shut, prayed for an absolution, a sign that this was all just a dream or for the earth to swallow me up. I needed a miracle. A magical moment, wave of a wand, snap of a finger that’d make it all disappear. Make me disappear.

  Suddenly nauseous, I moved to bolt, to deal with my embarrassment the only way I knew how—in bed with the covers thrown over my head—but Lawson took my hand, and his fingers were strong and warm.

  He said, “We probably know just about as much as you do about Mr. Evans.” His gaze moved for the iPad and I didn’t miss the worry on Katie’s face, the uncertainty. My stomach twisted. “But it would mean a lot to me, and to Harper, if all of you would please remember that none of this was expected. And that’s what life does sometimes, right? Life throws us curveballs and we can’t run. We have to deal with whatever it is that’s in front of us. So, that’s what we’re doing, Harper and me. We’re taking this one day at a time. And it would mean a lot to me if you were kind, as I know all of you are or you wouldn’t be joining us for this livestream.”

  I wondered for a moment if he believed his own words. If he felt confident the people watching, the fans who loved him, loved him enough to stand down and give us the privacy and support we deserved. But then he clasped my hand a little tighter and I realized even he knew there were those who had joined just for the gossip. For the drama of one of the world’s top celebrities being caught up in a horrific scandal. He knew this and yet he also knew the effectiveness of his own charm.

  No one could resist him.

  No one could listen to his sincerity, his humbleness and continue to be an ass. Right? Had he been anyone else, he would’ve been weighed, measured and torched.

  Lawson Hill was an enigma.

  “Because we’re gonna need your understanding and your support,” he said.

  Live chat spammed almost faster than I could read.

  Stay with her, may as well retire now.

  Right??

  Can we say CANCELLED??!1

  Can’t believe his label hasn’t dropped him…

  Oh, it’s coming. Just wait.

  Save yourself, Lawson!!!!

  “C’mon, y’all, play nice,” said Lawson.

  Hahahah #savelawson

  Not funny, you guys…

  ikr? rly feel sry 4 him

  Celebs have been destroyed over less

  Is the runner-up worth your career?

  “Harper is important to me.”

  Wait, I thought. What? What did they mean—

  Ha—uh, no…

  omg runner-up hahaha

  Not even #jenson4eva

  Yaaasss…JENSON NATION!

  Tension radiated from his body to mine. “No.” His voice was firm, but it didn’t seem to matter. They kept going.

  #jenson4eva

  #savelawson

  Then it hit me. Jenson was a ship. Jenna. Lawson. Jenna and Lawson. Jenson. Not only a couple, but a couple the public had gotten used to. A couple the public clearly wasn’t ready to let go of.

  The screen blurred. My face was on fire. I was a stranger here. An imposter. Alone, just the two of us, I could hold my own. I could believe we’d find a way, keep the faith. But against thousands, possibly tens-of-thousands of people who felt they knew him better than anyone else?

  I didn’t stand a chance.

  Katie sprang into action, waving her hand at Lawson to get his attention. Mimicking a slicing action across her neck.

  Cut it off, she mouthed. Cut it off now.

  “So, big announcement,” he said, defiant in his intent to instead redirect the conversation, “in two weeks, we’ll be performing in the heart of Nashville at the summer music festival. Super excited and honored to be invited to take the stage alongside so many talented artists.”

  The chat kept going as if he hadn’t even spoken.

  Jenson shippers deserve better! #savelawson

  Srsly u guys this aint gonna last…stop worrying

  Lawson’s fingers tightened around mine. Does he think I’ll run? If only I had the courage to tell him he didn’t have to worry. I might’ve wanted to, but my efforts would’ve been fruitless. Jell-O had replaced my bones a hundred comments ago.

  Don’t make choices you can’t take back.

  Someone needs to check on him

  For realz…

  “Say goodbye, Lawson!” Katie whisper-shouted between her teeth. Her face was red, eyes armed with an arsenal of warning. Embarrassment. Fear. “Now.”

  Her tone hit its mark.

  Lawson cleared his throat, smiled for the camera. “Hope to see you all there. Bye, everyone. Thanks for joining us.”

  Katie stopped the video, and I jerked my hand free from Lawson’s. Stood on shaky legs.

  “Harper.” He rose to his feet. Lost his smile.

  “I need a minute, okay?” My heart was beating too fast. The room had begun to spin. “I’m just…I’ll take the puppy out.”

  “Harper, wait.” Lawson started after me, but Katie murmured something I couldn’t make out for the length of my strides eating up the floor, and his footsteps halted.

  I had to get out. To think, to process, to calm myself before I threw up again. Chaos didn’t suit me well, and I knew I had to come up with a plan, even if just for the next few hours.

  I needed my head under control.

  Categories.

  I needed categories.

  Categories were good.

  Categories meant organization and order, and chaos didn’t fit into either of those things.

  On the back lawn I sat down, stretched my legs out on the grass. The puppy hopped off to do her business, yipping at a butterfly, then bolting when it flew a little too close.

  I breathed in the air, closed my eyes and told myself to let go of disorder and doubt. The scent of Lawson’s freshly mown grass drifted through my nostrils. Birdsong curled around my ears, followed by a breeze rustling through the leaves in the oaks. The sun warmed my face.

  One thing at a time. Start small.

  1. Name the puppy.

  “Bella,” I said to the ball of bouncing fur who had found a stick and was currently challenging it to a duel. “We’ll call you Bella. There. That was easy.”

  Next.

  2. Dad.

  I’d call again. Write another letter. I couldn’t give up on him, no matter how hard he tried to shut me out. Criminal or no, he was still my father, and I was still his daughter. He owed me an explanation, even if there wasn’t one. He owed me the truth.

  3. Pregnancy.

  An appointment with an obstetrician. Easy enough. Still, the tug in my heart was new. The idea that a tiny human was growing inside me; that if all went well, I’d give birth sometime in the spring next year. It was strangely exciting. Scarier than anything I’d ever faced in my life. Would the doctor be able to help with my colossal pile of self-doubt?

  4. College.

  I blinked owlishly up at the sky. Observed the movement of clouds and birds. College was the one part that didn’t frighten me. College, I understood. The educa
tion I’d worked for, the education that would fortify the path to not only success but independence.

  But then.

  5. Lawson.

  If Lawson was in the equation, which I hadn’t expected him to be, well…see #2.

  And that’s what life does sometimes, right? Life throws us curveballs, for lack of a better term, and we can’t run. We have to deal with whatever it is that’s in front of us.

  My vision distorted and I shut my eyes. Warm tears rolled off my temples, into my ears and hair. Crying wouldn’t help, but, damn, if I couldn’t stop feeling sorry for myself.

  Like the gonging of a bell that rose above a large square, the most basic truths rang through my mind.

  My name is Harper Elaine Evans. I am eighteen years old. My mom abandoned me when I was little. I don’t remember her. I wish I could remember her.

  A sob wrenched itself from my chest.

  Five months into my senior year, I was accepted into Trinity College at Cambridge. I graduated with honors, as valedictorian of my class. I gave a speech in front of hundreds of people. They played Story of My Life by One Direction as we threw our caps in the air.

  The tears continued. I couldn’t stop them. Couldn’t suppress the torment in my chest, the grinding of my stomach as if I was made up of a bunch of useless, rusty gears. The reality of a pain that ran deeper than any wound.

  I grew up in a small suburb of a big city. Sometimes we had it hard. Sometimes Dad worried about bills. We knew how to make meals that would stretch for a full week. But I never felt short-changed. Never felt as if I was missing out. I was loved. Cared for. Afforded great opportunities. He taught me what I needed to know to leave the nest, even if it’s happening sooner than expected.

  I blew out a shaky breath. Laid a palm to my belly.

  My name is Harper Elaine Evans. I am eighteen years old. My lips moved silently, reciting what I knew to be true. I moved to Nashville with my dad. And I met a boy. I met a boy with a big heart.

  I fell in love with the boy with the big heart.