by McCoy, Katie
It had been the first time in my life where I had not budged against their demands. Now I was doing all kind of things—singing in a band, dating a man they didn’t approve of—that would disappoint them. But I hadn’t backed down then and I wasn’t going to back down now. There were certain things I was prepared to fight for, even if it meant creating distance between myself and my parents.
I really hoped it didn’t come to that.
“I see the best in people, because I know it’s there,” I told my father.
“That’s a very sweet, but very naïve mindset,” my father countered.
“I’m not an innocent,” I argued. “I know there are things I need to be aware of, that I sometimes need to be on my guard, but it doesn’t mean I can’t hope for the best all the same.”
My father thought about that for a moment, and I used that opportunity to help my case for why Dante and I were a good team.
“He’s teaching my self-defense,” I said. “Dante has been training me how to protect myself so I won’t have to depend on other people if I get into trouble. Which I won’t. Because I’m always very, very careful.”
“He’s teaching you self-defense?” My father shot me a sideways look.
“Yes.” I nodded eagerly. “And I’m sure you would agree that one thing Dante has always been good at is taking care of himself.”
“That’s true,” my father readily agreed. “But, Hayley, that’s one of the reasons I’m worried. Dante is very, very good at taking care of himself. People like that don’t do well in relationships. They’re used to putting themselves first, so they have a hard time thinking about the needs of others.”
“Isn’t that how some people would describe you?” I asked, knowing that my father had always had a problem with being a workaholic. One who was also known as a particularly aggressive and shrewd businessman.
My father laughed. “Touché,” he said.
“You don’t know Dante the way I know him,” I said gently. “And yes, he has had to take care of himself, but he takes care of me too. He protects me and supports me. I’m pretty sure that’s exactly the kind of person you’d want me to be with.”
My father sighed and ran a hand through his graying hair. “You know I love you, Hayley.”
“And I love you too,” I said, smiling at him. “But you have to trust me.”
“I do trust you,” he said. “It’s trusting the other person that I have trouble with.”
“Would you feel that way about anyone I dated or is it just because it’s Dante?”
“Well . . .” My father thought about it. “I didn’t have to accompany you and Mike to the police station at any point while you were dating.”
I smacked him on the arm. “Someone burned down Dante’s building. A building he had just bought—because he works hard and has ambition. We were here to protect him because someone was trying to hurt him.”
“I know, I know.” My father held up his hands in surrender. “But it’s my job as your father to be overprotective.”
“Well, can you tell that to Emerson, because he seems to think it’s his job as well. All the guys think that, in fact,” I grumbled.
My father laughed. “We all care about you. Consider it a compliment.”
“I’d consider it a compliment if you trusted me to make the right decisions for myself,” I countered.
My father paused for a long time. “You’re right,” he finally said.
“Can I get that in writing?” I joked.
“I’ll have my lawyer draw up the paperwork,” my father said with a grin before he sobered. “I’m sorry, Hayley,” he said. “Dante seems like a fine man. But I just want what’s best for you.”
I took a deep breath, knowing I needed my father to believe what I said next.
“Then trust me when I say that Dante is what’s best for me. It’s my life, and I know I’m making the right choice. I believe in Dante—and if it’s a mistake, then I’ll have to deal with the consequences. But it will be my choice and my consequences. Everyone needs to stop trying to protect me. If I need help, I’ll ask for it.”
“Will you?” my father asked, giving me a concerned look.
“Yes,” I promised.
He sighed. “I know I can seem overbearing at times, but it’s only because I love you.”
“I know,” I said. “And I love you too.”
My father put his arm around my shoulders and pulled my close. I hugged him back tight. I could tell he still wasn’t convinced about Dante, but that was OK. I knew that he just needed a little more time, and more of an opportunity to get to know him. But now that we were going to go public with our relationship, everyone would be able to see with their own eyes how good Dante and I were together. That would be enough to convince them that their worries were unfounded. I knew it would be.
“This is the hard part, you know,” he said.
“What is?”
“Letting your kids go,” my father continued. “Forcing yourself to stand back even when you’re afraid they’re going to make mistakes, that they’re going to get hurt.” He sighed. “But I guess that’s part of growing up. For both of us.”
“I think you’re growing up fine,” I teased him.
“Right back at you, kiddo,” he said. “Right back at you.”
18
Hayley
In the whirlwind of the days following the fire, Dante and I spent most of our free time together. But we still hadn’t told Emerson and the guys. There just never seemed to be a good time to tell them. Everyone was pitching in to help with the clean-up for the gym, but that consisted mostly of sad, dirty work, and no one really seemed to feel like talking when we were doing it, least of all Dante.
And I had my own personal distraction in the form of the Austin James audition, which was that evening. All day, I had been nervous and anxious, not sure how I was going to pull it all off. The band was counting on me to kick ass, but I was having a hard time focusing. I found it way easier to direct my attention to Dante and the gym, because if I started thinking too much about the audition I’d start freaking out.
I was so nervous that I barely spoke all morning, picking at the breakfast that Dante had made for me.
“You’re going to do great,” he assured me, pouring me another cup of coffee.
Dante’s skills in the kitchen were one of the latest things I had learned about him, and while my hips and thighs weren’t going to be thanking him for making all my clothes a little too snug, my stomach was very happy to be fed delicious food on a regular basis.
But this morning, I could barely eat.
“What if I freeze?” I asked as he cleared my picked-over plate. “What if I get up there, in front of Austin James’ manager, and I totally freeze? I could blow it for everyone if I mess up a note or a lyric. They’ve been working so hard for so long and I could ruin it for all of them.”
Dante sat down in front of me and took my hands.
“You’re not going to freeze,” he told me firmly. “I’ve seen you perform. When you get up there, you’re confident and kickass. And that’s what’s going to happen today.”
Dante sounded so sure of my abilities that I couldn’t help but feel my confidence coming back. A little.
“Will you come?” I asked him hopefully. “To the audition. I think I’ll feel better if I know you’re in the audience.”
Dante nodded, and I let out a sigh of relief. It was true—knowing he’d be there calmed my nerves exponentially.
“I’ve got another way to make you feel better.” Dante gave me a wicked look.
“Oh yeah?” I asked, arching an eyebrow at him.
We reached for each other at the same time, his mouth hot on mine, his hands rough and perfect on my body.
And for a while, nothing else mattered.
“You ready?” Kara asked me, her own hands trembling with nerves.
We were all gathered backstage at the venue, while Austin James’ management wa
s getting settled in their seats. I knew that Dante was standing at the back of the room, which meant that even though I wouldn’t be able to see him with the bright lights shining down on the stage, I’d still know exactly where he was.
Our morning romp, and his presence at the venue, were doing great things for my confidence. Who knew that regular orgasms would be so good for my self-esteem? I’d also put on my favorite outfit—my best and tightest pair of ripped jeans with a black top that laced up the sides. Even if I didn’t completely feel like a rock star, I knew I looked like one. And I could also remember the look that Dante had given me that morning after I put it on. Like he wanted very badly to take it all off of me again. It made me feel sexy and invincible. Exactly how I wanted to feel on stage. So, I held onto that feeling as I prepared backstage.
Ten minutes before the audition was scheduled to happen, I felt calm and relaxed and ready to perform. Until Dylan came charging backstage with the news.
“He’s here,” he said in a mock whisper.
“What?” Kara asked, her eyes wide. “You don’t mean . . . ?”
“Yes!” Dylan said, grabbing his girlfriend’s hands. “Austin James himself is here.”
“Fuck.” Freddie played a sour note on his bass. “This is a bad idea.”
“What are we doing?” Kara asked Dylan. “We can’t play for Austin James. We’re not good enough.”
“What?” Dylan’s face went white. “Kara, come on. We have to.”
“Oh my God.” Maddie looked like she might faint. “I can’t do this.”
I swung around to face her. “Yes, you can,” I told her, trying to sound confident. “We all can. And we’re going to be great. We’re all going to be great.” I addressed the group. “Austin James is just a guy in the audience. He’s here to watch us. We’re here to give a great show, no matter who shows up to watch us. So let’s give a great show. OK?”
Everyone looked at me, stunned. I couldn’t blame them. I was usually the person in need of a pep talk, not the one giving them. Slowly, smiles began appearing on everyone’s face.
“Fuck yeah, we can give a great show,” Dylan said.
“Let’s do this!” Freddie pumped his fist in the air.
“Purple Sunday on three?” Kara put her hand out, and we all put ours on top of hers. “One, two, three!”
“Purple Sunday!” we all said together, and triumphantly.
The venue manager poked his head in. “Are you guys ready?”
“Fuck yeah!” Freddie told him, with enthusiasm. “Let’s kill this set.”
“Whatever man.” The venue manager looked like he just wanted to get it over and done with. “Just don’t trash our stage.”
But even his lackluster response couldn’t dampen the excitement that had spread through the group. My little, impromptu pep talk had gotten all of us fired up, and we headed out on the stage, our heads held high.
“Hi,” I said into the audience, grateful the lights were too bright for me to see anything—including Austin James. “We’re Purple Sunday.”
I could picture Dante standing at the back of the room. So when the music kicked in and I started singing, I focused on him. I sang to him.
Everything I had, I poured into the songs. I sang like I had never sang before, completely giving myself up to Kara’s songs. Giving myself up to the music. I felt it vibrate through me, becoming one with each of the instruments, my voice blending with them perfectly.
We played the best set we’d ever played.
When we were finished, I was sweating and grinning and feeling like I was on top of the world. There was no greater feeling than this.
The lights came on, and my eyes immediately went to the back of the room where Dante was standing. And the expression on his face—the awe, the pride—made the moment even more spectacular.
I was so focused on him—on his big, wide smile and his applause—that I didn’t even notice the man approaching the stage. Which was ridiculous, because the man approaching the stage was Austin James. In the flesh.
I could hear Kara and Maddie giggling behind me as he put his hands onto the stage and vaulted up onto the platform.
“Hey,” he said, reaching out a hand. “I’m Austin.”
“Hayley.” I shook it. “Nice to meet you.”
Luckily, I’d had enough experience with famous people during my years of hosting charity events, so I managed to keep from fainting, but it was hard not to feel a little dazzled by him.
He was tall and handsome, and looked every inch the rock star he was.
“You guys were great,” he said, sliding his hands into his pockets. “I really dig your sound.” He turned to me. “And your vocals are just killer.”
I flushed, feeling like I had just received the world’s greatest compliment. Austin James, telling me that I was a good singer? What was my life right now? Pretty damn near perfect, it seemed.
“Mia.” He turned and waved to someone in the crowd.
A pretty woman stepped towards the stage, looking up at us from the ground.
“This is Mia Taylor,” he introduced us as well, though it was unnecessary.
If you knew who Austin James was, then you knew his girlfriend, Mia. The two of them had been tabloid favorites ever since Mia did a piece on Austin for ChatBuzz. People were obsessed with their relationship, and I had to admit I had been just as invested as the next Austin James fan.
“Tell them what you told me,” Austin said to his girlfriend.
“I told him that he would be a fool if he didn’t sign them to open for you,” she said with a big, bright smile. “You guys are the real deal.”
“And if I’ve learned anything, it’s that this woman is usually right,” Austin said, looking at her with such love and affection that it made my heart skip a beat.
Because all I could think of was the man in the back of the room, who had looked at me with a similar look on his face this morning after he had fucked me into a state of utter relaxation.
I glanced up at Dante, who was still there, his arms crossed, watching the scene with an amused smile that was also full of pride. I loved him. I really did. And I was ready to tell everyone.
“I heard you guys are playing a set this weekend,” Austin was saying to Kara, whose face was red and eyes round. “You did great with us as your audience, but I’d love to see the reaction from a crowd. I think there’s a slot on our tour that you guys would fill quite nicely.”
“We’ll make sure to get you passes for the show,” Dylan told him. “Whatever you need.”
“Great,” Austin said with a smile. “It will be me, Mia, and I’ll try to get someone from the label to come as well. They should definitely hear you guys play.”
I couldn’t believe what was happening. A great audition and now maybe a chance to go on tour with Austin James and possibly sign with his label.
We all chatted a while longer about the band and our plans for it, before Austin, Mia, and his team headed out. The minute the door had closed behind them, Kara and Maddie began leaping around the stage, squealing excitedly.
“Oh my God, oh my God,” they kept chanting.
“That was so fucking rad,” Freddie said, looking a little dazed as well.
“Shit.” Dylan ran a hand through his hair. “We have to kill it at our next show.”
“We will,” I told him confidently, before jumping off the stage to go to Dante. “Hey,” I said once I reached him.
“Hey,” he said, a smile crinkling the edges of his eyes. “You guys were great. You were great.”
“Thank you,” I said. “Austin seemed to really like us.”
“He’d be an idiot not to,” Dante said.
“You have to say that because you’re my boyfriend,” I said, the words slipping out before I could stop them.
Dante raised an eyebrow. “Your boyfriend?”
I flushed. “I mean, I thought, I guess, if you wanted—”
Thankfully he stopped me by putt
ing a finger to my lips. “I would love to be your boyfriend,” he said.
I beamed at him. “Great,” I said, feeling like this day couldn’t get any better. “I want to tell Emerson tonight.”
“Great,” he said, though he looked a little nervous.
“Don’t worry about it,” I said, putting a hand on his arm. “My brother loves me, and he’ll want the best for me.”
“That’s what I’m worried about,” Dante said under his breath.
I didn’t have a chance to respond, because I was already being called back to the group.
“Go,” Dante said before I could ask. “I have to meet a client at the gym, but I can meet up with you later.”
I nodded. “I was thinking of going to Rascals tonight. We can tell everyone all our good news.”
Dante gave me a kiss on the cheek, but his mouth was pulled tight. He was nervous about telling everyone. I was too, but it was time.
“You wanted to tell them,” I reminded him.
“I know,” he said. “And I do want them to know.”
But he was worried about their response. He didn’t have to say it out loud. I understood. It was probably going to be a big shock to everyone, since as far as they knew, the only thing that Dante and I had in common was that we liked to argue with each other.
Although I hoped they would be happy for us, even if they weren’t, nothing was going to stop Dante and me from being together. Especially not my brother or our friends. What we had was real and powerful and I was going to do everything I could to protect it.
“It’s going to be fine,” I told Dante, squeezing his hand. “I’ll tell Emerson.”
He looked relieved at that—I imagined it wasn’t a conversation he was looking forward to having. The guys were all kind obsessed with a “bro code,” which seemed to have a bunch of stupid and unnecessary guidelines—and was one of the reasons they all tended to be a bit overprotective of me.