Table of Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Also by Sydney Aaliyah Michelle
About the Author
Your Loyal Fan
The Fan Series Book #2
Sydney Aaliyah Michelle
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Also by Sydney Aaliyah Michelle
About the Author
Copyright© Sydney Aaliyah Michelle 2016
All rights reserved
Published by SAM & Associates, LLC
Editing by Jenny Sims
Editing 4 Indies
Proofreading by Sara Miller
Pretty Little Book Promotion
No part of this publication may be reproduced or retransmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, or mechanical, including photography, recording or any information storage and retrieval system without the prior written consent from the publisher and author, except in the instance of quotes for reviews. No part of this book may be uploaded without the permission of the publisher and author, nor be otherwise circulated in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is originally published.
This is a work of fiction and any resemblance to person, living or dead or places, actual events or locales are purely coincidental.
The characters and names are products of the author's imagination and used fictitiously.
The publisher and author acknowledge the trademark status and trademark ownership of all trademarks, service marks and word marks mentioned in this book.
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One
Callie
Their voices penetrated the dark hole I had buried myself in. No, I wasn't asleep. I hadn't slept all night.
"Callie." Noah's strong voice sang out my name in a tone mixed with equal parts adoration and annoyance.
Little Noah (or Nip as we call my little Chihuahua to avoid confusion) followed with a distinct high pitch howl full of annoyance.
"Plane leaves in three hours," Noah said. "Get up, or I'm gathering you in this blanket, carrying you on the plane, and you'll have to fly to LA in your pajamas."
I shifted under the covers and looked down. I wasn't wearing pajamas. I grinned, but then the smile faded. I imagined the balding lawyer guy from TMZ announcing, NYC's hot new wide receiver drags naked girl on plane.
Noah dropped onto the bed. He pushed and pulled the thick quilt.
Nip barked in encouragement.
Why isn't my little dog protecting me?
I knew the answer to that one. He and his namesake had become best friends. It would have pissed me off, if they weren't so adorable together.
As he pulled, I buried deeper, scooting to the edge as far away from him as I could. My desire to avoid getting out of bed and facing the next few days took over my rational mind. I scooted so far; I flipped out of bed and landed face first on the hardwood floor.
"Owww." I rubbed my face.
Nip jumped off the bed, barked, and licked my hand.
I'll give him credit for at least making sure I was okay.
It's more then I could say for my boyfriend.
I stared up as he peered over the edge of the bed. Instead of concern for my well-being and the swelling on my face, he clutched his stomach and laughed.
I grabbed the covers to garner a tiny bit of dignity, but his two hundred pound frame made that impossible.
Why did I invite him into my home in the first place?
Well, I hadn't really; I had my father to thank/blame for that.
A little over a year ago, misunderstood NFL bad boy, Noah Patrick, moved into the apartment across from mine in Brooklyn, New York. We fell in love quick. I had a head start since I'd been blogging about my love for Noah Patrick for over three years.
It's not as creepy as it sounds.
"Stop laughing." I slammed my hands on the ground. "Ouch." Now my hand throbbed.
"Baby, I'm sorry." Noah swung his legs over the side of the bed, helped me up, and pulled me onto his lap.
Fully dressed in dark jeans and a hooded sweatshirt, no doubt his suitcase would be neatly packed and sitting by the door downstairs.
My suitcase lay open on the floor with nothing but a few toys for Noah, which he was now gnawing on as he laid in the middle of the open bag.
"You okay?" Noah gently rubbed my cheek; I sighed and settled into his arms. I ran my hand up his back and massaged the spot between his shoulders.
He flexed and groaned.
"Why do we have to go?" I nuzzled his neck and laid small kisses on his firm chin.
"Because he's my best friend and I'm in the wedding." He tilted his head.
I tasted his skin. He tasted so good.
"Then, why do I have to go?" I asked as I licked the spot under his earlobe.
He shivered.
He grabbed me around the waist and flipped me onto the bed. He crawled up and lay on top of me.
Yes, mission accomplished.
He ran his hands down my side and I shivered. He captured my bottom lip between his teeth and tugged before kissing me. I moaned in his mouth as his hands continued to move, but then he stopped.
I blinked my eyes.
"Callie Blake."
"Noah Patrick." I mimicked his tone.
He narrowed his eyes and pushed off the bed.
"You have to go because I asked you to," Noah said. He reached out his hand.
I took it and stood up.
"Besides, I'm ready to show you off to the world." His gaze traveled down my naked body. "As soon as you put some clothes on, Caliente."
I rolled my eyes and shook my head.
"Go jump in the shower, I'll finish packing for you." He walked over to my dresser.
"Oh, yeah. I can't wait to see what you would pack," I said over my shoulders as I walked into the adjacent bathroom, and pulled on my robe.
"Well, I'll start with the thongs and your bikini." He opened my drawer. "Tank tops and mini skirts."
"Yeah, don't forget the push up bras and the black lace corset you love so much." I cinched the robe ties around my waist.
He grinned and cocked his eyebrow as he rifled through my sock drawer.
I walked over and shut it.
"Give me thirty minutes." I pulled him towards the door. "I'll be showered and packed and ready to go."
"Promise?" He caressed my chin and swiped my hair off my face. "No more stalling?"
I shook my head.
Noah leaned down and kissed me. His lips firm as he held my face.
"Mi Caliente." He kissed me again and headed out the door. "Come on Nip."
Nip jumped out of the suitcase, stopped to give me a pity lick on my ankle, and proceeded to follow Noah down the stairs.
In the year since we met, we had kept our relationship low key. Not an easy task when one of us was the star receiver for the New York Giants. We spent last off-season in Europe, rec
reating our worldwide excursion from my blog for real.
Noah returned to the States for mini camps and I continued my international trip without him, writing and reporting on my adventures. I created another blog because writing was what I did.
In August, I keep my promise to my father and became a full time college student at NYU. Our Brooklyn home became our hideaway; our fortress of solitude and the rest of the world did not exist.
I thought that was how he wanted it.
His last relationship, break up, and subsequent arrest for domestic violence played out in the tabloids. Noah was fine with us being under the radar. Even though his ex-girlfriend came clean and admitted she made it all up, he played last season as if he needed to prove something.
I enjoyed my first year in school. I made friends, nerdy writer types like myself. They had no clue who Noah Patrick was and I liked it that way. I attended the home games, sat in the stands and cheered on my man with the rest of New York. When we came home, to our little hide out in Brooklyn, it was just Noah, Nip and I.
Life is good.
The same tabloids had already penned it the celebrity wedding of the century. Noah's best friend, Preston Carter was the reigning regular season MVP, Super Bowl MVP and hottest quarterback in the NFL. Coming off a record setting season, Preston was set to wed the biggest pop star in the world.
In less then six hours, the world would know, Noah and I were an item and life would never be the same.
Were we ready for that?
Two
Noah
"Now that you can't back out." I turned to Callie as she leaned back and emptied the contents of her champagne glass in one sip. "What's this about?" I took the glass out of her hand.
She reluctantly released it and looked up the aisle.
"Callie."
"What?" Her voice an octave higher than normal.
"What is going on with you?" I palmed her thigh.
She shook her head and stared out the window.
I handed the champagne glass to the passing flight attendant.
"Can I get you one more?" The attendant asked.
"Yeah. Thanks," I said.
I felt the energy of Callie's smile. I didn't even have to turn to look. It's how it was between us. I could feel her mood; she wore it all over her. Even with a touch of my palm to her jean-clad thigh, I knew whether she was happy or sad and it affected my mood, too. At the moment, we were teetering on the edge of joy and nervous anxiety.
"There's going to be cameras?" She placed her hand over mine.
"Yeah. Probably as soon as we get off the plane." I nodded.
"If I don't sign the release, won't they just have to blur out my face?" She blinked and motioned over her face.
"Probably." I squeezed her leg.
Callie licked her lips.
I stared at her beautiful mouth.
She squeezed my hand.
"But, that would draw more attention. Everyone would be trying to find out, who is Noah Patrick's mystery woman."
My best friend dropped it on us last night. The wedding of the century was going to be televised. The bride and groom had a camera crew following them around for a few months now. I avoided a staring role only because his older brother was best man and I lived and played on the opposite coast.
"I don't want to be interviewed." Callie reached for the glass and took a small sip.
"That's fine babe." I wrapped a finger around her ring finger and leaned in. "But, I would rather they see you're beautiful face then a blurred out blob."
I smelled the champagne. It coaxed her closer with a quick kiss. A small burst of air escaped between her lips before they landed on mine.
I sighed.
The tension remained, but I hoped the champagne eased it, before she got drunk.
"I don't know why I'm so nervous." She shifted in her seat to face me. "I know it's not about me, but it's going to be different. Like we went from living in this controlled bubble and now we're going to be on national television, albeit briefly, for people to talk about and comment on."
"You talk to thousands of people a day on your blog," I said.
"Yeah, but I don't have to see their judgmental eyes staring back at me." She bit her lip. "And talking about my favorite spots to read in the five boroughs in my own words, is a little less controversial than commenting on whether or not Preston and Kate are going to last."
"I know. Not what you signed on for?" I frowned.
"Neither did you." She pouted. "You wanted to get away from all of that, that's why you moved to Brooklyn, right?"
"You're right. I'm not about that world anymore." I stared down. "I can't help that my best friend is the face of the NFL or that he's marrying a Oscar winning actress."
"Oscar, Sag, and Golden Globe." Callie held up three fingers.
"Whatever.” I shook my head. “It was for the same role.”
Preston and I grew up together. We played ball at UT Austin together. He was a fourth round draft pick, but because of an injury, he ended up starting the first game of the season. Four years later, he had won two Super Bowls and the world loved him. The Chargers drafted me with the first overall pick in the first round. Four years later, I now played for the Giants. Our journeys took two different paths.
He loved the life and maybe I liked it a little, too, before it turned on me. He worked so damn hard; he earned everything. Now he was marrying Kate Stone, spending his off-season on red carpets and at award shows.
"What's she like?" Callie asked.
"She's nice." I pushed a piece of her red hair off her face. "I haven't spent a lot of time with them. Events here and there, but I don't know her very well."
"I bet she's self absorbed and a narcissist." Callie took a sip. "All those music creative types are."
"How do you know how those music creative types are?"
"I watch reality television."
"Yeah, that's so real."
Callie squeezed my hand.
I stared down.
"You don't have anything to be insecure about," I said.
"It's not insecurity, it's ..." her voice trailed off. She shrugged her shoulders and tapped my finger.
"What is it then?"
"It's just a different world. I don't know how people are going to treat me." She balled her hand in a fist and tapped my hand. "I could win a Oscar, if I wanted to." Callie giggled.
I loved her laugh. I loved everything about her. She spent a year restoring my faith in love and friendship and all that shit. Plus she was fucking hot.
After my last girlfriend, trust was not in my vocabulary.
Callie earned my trust. She didn't want me for my money, fame, or lifestyle. She had her own money. Although she won't tell me, I was pretty sure her trust fund was more than my first contract.
After reading her now debunked blog and from the stories she had told me, her infatuation for me was based on an illusion. I thought we would have some issues with her confusing the two. She didn't, and we didn't.
"They are regular people. Just be yourself, they are going to love you."
"Of course they are," she downed the rest of the champagne. "I'm very lovable."
She leaned in, kissed my shoulder and laid her head down.
"It’s just going to be weird. That's all." She exhaled. "It's so different from our normal lives. We are boring compared to all of this."
"Hey." He nudged her. "I like our boring life."
She smiled up at me and man if it didn't make my day.
"I love it, too." She leaned up and kissed me. She stared into my eyes and pulled away.
I ran my hand along her cheek and pulled her face close.
"Wait." Her breath grew shallow as we gazed at each other. We might not have many more quiet moments in the next few days. I wanted to enjoy it. Enjoy her. "I'm not done."
She smiled and cocked her head. "Done with what?"
I smirked and kissed her again our eyes remained open.
Yip, Yip
We smile and stared down at the opened doggy backpack between us.
Nip sat up, staring up at us.
He took on the mood of his owner.
We were all excited to have each other.
I looked back into her eyes.
Callie was right. Fame and celebrity did strange things to people. Made people act out of character. If I wasn't worried about it before, I had to admit, I was now.
Maybe Callie was trying to tell me something.
I wished I had listened harder.
Three
Callie
The plane landed with a thud.
We entered the airport among the crowd. Everyone was on a mission and no one paid any attention to us. We retrieved our bags and exited LAX. As soon as we stepped outside, I saw them. The paparazzi sitting and squatting near the entrance, ready to pounce.
They did pounce, but not on us.
A tall blonde from one of my favorite chick flicks walked out the automatic doors a few feet away. She stopped, placed the perfect surprise look on her face and posed for the camera all while trying to pretend she couldn't be bothered with it.
It was a masterful performance, really.
"Callie," Noah said.
I didn't realize I had stopped.
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