“Tell me you’re joking,” I told him.
He shook his head. “I’m not, man. I asked her what she was doing, and she said some bullshit about wanting to see what an iPhone 5 looked like, because she was thinking of getting one. I was so pissed off at Kyla that I didn’t think twice about her excuse.”
“Shit,” I hissed. Then I shook my head and bolted past him up the stairs.
“I’m sorry, Ryder,” he called after me.
Okay, it was just a few pictures. Sure, one showed us kissing, but we were going to come clean about our relationship in a few weeks anyway. This wasn’t the end of the world. I needed to keep things in perspective here.
“It’s not your fault,” I yelled back at Jake.
I was pissed at Kirsten for doing what she did, for publicizing something that I wanted to keep private. But I was also mad at myself. I never should have left my phone on the table where she could get to it. I should have known she’d do something like this. She was pissed that I’d rejected her, no doubt, and she did this to hurt me. I couldn’t be mad at Jake. He was just the messenger.
“It’s not just the pictures,” he said then, and I froze.
Fuck.
I thought about what else was on my phone that Kirsten could have seen, and panic flooded me.
Turning around on the stairs, I looked down at him. “What do you mean?”
“There’s a few screen shots of a text message conversation between you and Syd that makes it pretty obvious you two are sleeping together. And what she, um, wanted to do to you the next time she saw you.”
Fuck.
I felt my shoulders sink. I remembered that conversation vividly. I knew exactly what he was referring to. I had to call Sydney.
When I got to my room, I leaned back against the door and took deep breaths, trying to calm down. I knew Syd was probably freaking out, so I had to hold it together.
Lifting my phone, I looked down at the screen to see I had thirty missed calls and fifteen text messages from her and Jake. I didn’t bother listening to the messages or reading the texts. I just dialed Sydney’s number.
“Where have you been?!” she shrieked as soon as she answered.
“In class. I had my last final. I got home to find the house swamped with reporters.”
She didn’t even try to hold back the tears, and it killed me not to be there for her. Without thinking I started throwing things into my duffel bag.
“Everyone knows!” she shrieked. “How the hell did they see those text messages, Ryder?”
She was upset, and she was pissed off – at me, apparently. I stopped feverishly packing, wondering if it might be a fruitless endeavor. Was she going to end things with me over this, thinking it was my fault for not deleting her texts or for leaving those pictures on my phone or for allowing someone into our private life?
Fuck that. Even if she did, I wasn’t letting her end things with me. We’d been talking about fucking marriage just two weeks earlier, and I was prepared to fight for this girl with everything in me if I had to. But it would have to wait until the next day when my flight for Minneapolis was leaving. I couldn’t afford to pay the fee to change it now and meet her in St. Louis.
Fuck.
I took a deep breath. “It was that girl Kirsten. You know, the one I told you about who kissed me?” I said resignedly, feeling over-the-top guilty for indirectly bringing this down on her.
“Yeah,” she said tightly, and I cringed at having to relieve that conversation. It hadn’t been fun to tell my girlfriend that some other girl had kissed me. But I couldn’t dwell on that now.
“She’s kind of an ex, and she’s the same girl who smashed my phone a few months back, the one who texted you pretending to be me. She’s crazy, and she’s jealous. She was livid when she found out I had a girlfriend, so when I went to the bathroom that night Jake and I were at The Swamp, I think she took my phone, saw the texts and pictures and sent copies to her phone.”
Fuck. That had been over two weeks ago. Had she just been holding onto them all this time?
“Oh, my God, Ryder. That’s nuts!”
“I know!” I roared. “She’s certifiable!”
She started crying again.
“Fuck,” I said, letting my head fall into my hands as I leaned my elbows against the platform. “I’m sorry, Syd. I’m so sorry.”
“This is awful,” she cried.
“What? That everyone knows about us?” I asked, suddenly seeing red.
“No!” she said, washing away my fears. “That everyone saw such graphic parts of our life – our life together. That was personal.”
She was referring to the text messages.
“I know,” I sighed. “What can I do? How do I fix this?”
“You can’t,” she said softly.
And I knew she was right.
“I had Laurie confirm that we’re together. She said we’d been dating for two weeks. Are you okay with that?” she asked, sounding defeated.
The fact that she was worried about me when all this was going on made my chest hurt. I was nobody. No one would give a shit that she was sleeping with me. I’d have to deal with questions for a little while, but I wasn’t the celebrity. I wouldn’t be the person they were talking about and making fun of for talking dirty to her boyfriend via text message. Sydney would bear the brunt of that. And I just wanted to be there for her.
“Of course I’m fine with that,” I told her. “Whatever you need to do. It’s fine. I understand.”
“Ry, the press has been camped outside of my hotel all day. And I have a show tonight. I can’t do this. My fans are going to hate me.”
Jake chose that moment to come back into the room. I turned to look at him, and he met my gaze before his eyes shifted to my half-packed duffel bag. Wordlessly he walked over and started pulling things from my closet and shoving them into the bag.
“Baby,” I said, aiming to calm Sydney down. “I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry that this happened. But your fans aren’t going to hate you. They’ll be supportive. They’ll understand. Lots of people sext their boyfriends. It’ll make you seem more human.”
I was completely pulling shit out of my ass with that stuff. I had no grounds for believing it was even valid information, but I was desperate to do anything I could to make her feel even the slightest bit better.
“No, it won’t. They’ll think I’m a slut, and it’s not just that. They’ll think I’m an awful person for ending things with Dillon. They’ll think I cheated, and they’ll hate me. Ugh, Ryder, it’s there in print that I said I wanted to lick you like a lollipop!”
I cringed. She had said that, and at the time it had been so hot, but I knew how it would look to the wrong audience. I wondered how much fallout would ensue from mothers of her fans.
I took a deep breath. There was no way this situation was going to get any easier. The timing lined up that the night she supposedly ended things with Dillon, she was referencing sex with me, and no one would believe it was the first time we were talking about it. Our conversation had been way too intimate. They were going to think she’d cheated on him, and she would be made to look like a martyr.
“It’ll be okay,” I said, because there was nothing I could say that would make things better. Nothing at all. And I knew that.
“Here,” Jake said, handing me a piece of paper.
“What’s this?” I asked, looking down at the paper. It was a boarding pass with my name on it for a flight that left in two hours. I looked back up at him.
He jerked his head toward the door. “Go see her. She needs you.”
He’d known I couldn’t afford to change my flight, so he’d changed it for me and paid the hundred and fifty dollar fee. I owed him big time.
“Thank you,” I said, pulling him into a hug.
“Yeah, you got it. Once again, I’m apologizing for Crazy Kirsten.” He shrugged. “Hopefully this’ll help.”
“It will,” I told him, and he nodded before
he reached down to hand me my duffel bag.
“And I’ll talk to Kyla, find out if she’ll tell me anything,” he said.
I knew that was going to be painful for him, so I appreciated him going that far for me. I had very few notions that Kirsten would actually admit to leaking or selling the photographs, but when I saw her again, it wasn’t going to be a good conversation. Thankfully I was leaving for a week. Maybe by the time I saw her again I’d have calmed down enough to not want to lash out, but I doubted it. I was so pissed at her. But I also had more important things to worry about at the moment.
“Baby,” I said to Sydney, who was crying softly and breaking my heart on the other end of the phone.
“Yeah?” she sniffled, as I let myself out of my room and closed the door behind me.
“I’m on my way to you.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, I’ll be there in a few hours.” I paused at the window near the top of the stairs and saw the reporters still milling around outside. “I love you, and we’ll get through this together, alright?”
“I love you too, Ry,” she said as I reached the bottom of the stairs.
“Okay, I’m gonna go. You’re not alone, are you?” I asked, stopping at the front door, knowing I was going to have to fight my way to my car, and I didn’t want to be on the phone with Sydney when the reporters barraged me with questions. She didn’t need to hear that, because it would no doubt stress her out even more.
She let out a shaky breath. “No, I’m not alone. Laurie, Elisa and Chris are here. We’re going to talk about how to handle this. I can’t wait to see you.”
“Me too. I’ll be there soon.”
As soon as the door opened, the flashbulbs went off. I set my sights on the straight line between me and my car and headed that way, my eyes looking dead ahead.
“Ryder! Where are you going?”
“Did you talk to Sydney? How is she doing?”
“Do you know who took the pictures of you two?”
“How long have you been dating?”
“Is sex with Sydney always an adventure?”
“What’s it like to be in a relationship with a celebrity?”
“Are you two in love?”
They continued to follow me, pelting me with questions, so halfway to my car I reeled around to face them, and they all froze.
“I’m assuming if I answer your questions you’ll leave me alone?” I asked, wondering if this would even work.
Choruses of ‘yes’ and ‘sure’ and ‘tell us’ rang out, and I took a deep breath.
“I’ve been dating Sydney Chase for two weeks. Yes, I’m in love with her, and she’s the most wonderful person I’ve ever known. To me she’s not a celebrity. She’s just Sydney. Dating her is incredible, aside from the fact that people like you want to invade our personal lives twenty-four/seven. I’m not a fan of that to be honest. I didn’t break up her and Dillon. I’m actually friends with the guy if you want to know the truth, and we’ll continue to be friends. Did I leave anything out?” I asked, the annoyance in my tone clear.
“How’s the sex?” one sleazy looking guy asked, and I glared at him.
“Do you honestly think I’m going to answer that?” I asked him, and he just shrugged. Idiot.
“Where are you going?” one female reporter asked.
I rolled my eyes. “Where do you think I’m going? I’m going to see my girlfriend, because something we were trying to keep to ourselves just got out, and you people won’t stop asking us questions about it. Now, I have a plane to catch, so I’m sorry if you wanted to know more, but that’s all you’re getting from me. Please leave us alone.”
They continued their rapid-fire questions and cameras went off as I got into my used Honda Civic. I was sure the next assumption would be that I was a gold digger, only out for Syd’s money. Whatever. I knew the truth, and I was starting to realize that no matter what I told the press, they would speculate and question everything. It was what they did. Sydney and I would just have to learn to live with it, because I wasn’t naïve enough to think it would go away.
But I couldn’t worry about that just then. I had a plane to catch and a girlfriend to comfort, because she was coming apart at the seams. And although I knew being there for her wouldn’t solve anything, it would probably make dealing with all of this a little easier for both of us. I knew for me just being near her always made things better – even this shitstorm that had descended upon us.
* * *
Sydney flew into my arms, almost knocking Shelly over, as soon as I appeared in her dressing room. I wrapped her up tightly and held her as she cried.
“No, not again,” Shelly called out, but it was no good. Syd’s make-up was smudging all over my black t-shirt.
I ran my hands up and down her back rhythmically as she sobbed and clung to me.
“It’s okay, baby. I’m here. It’s okay.”
She didn’t respond. She just kept crying.
I looked up at her team, all watching us with looks of empathy on their faces. “Can you give us a minute, guys?” I asked, and they all nodded.
I knew we were in danger of pushing back the start time of the concert, but I didn’t really care, and thankfully no one said anything. I figured they all loved Syd too much for that and realized what she needed in that moment.
As soon as the room cleared out, I steered her over to the couch and smoothed tendrils of her hair back from her face. Her hair was swept into a ponytail that fell over her right shoulder, and aside from the make-up streaks on her cheeks, she looked so beautiful as she looked up at me with her big brown eyes.
“What did Laurie say?” I asked, taking her hands in mind. “What did you all decide to do?”
I’d talked to Syd again when I was about to board my plane, and she’d let me know Laurie had given her a few options on how to fix the damage. We knew that the issue was that the text messages were sent the night that it was announced that Sydney and Dillon were ending their relationship. They painted a picture that we were already very well acquainted, sexually speaking, by the time she sent that message. So I told her I’d do whatever it took to smooth things over, even if it meant lying.
She let out a shaky breath and shook her head. “She’s going to release a statement that pretty much says: Ryder Thompson has been my best friend for twelve years and at many points in my life he’s been more than a friend to me. This summer, we fell in love and decided to pursue a relationship. At no point did this decision affect my relationship with Dillon Paulson. Dillon and I both agreed that there were other people who were better suited for us in the long run. For me that person is Ryder. Dillon and I are still friends, and we will remain friends. I apologize if any of the comments made in my text messages to Ryder were inappropriate in any way, but they were meant to be private messages between me and my boyfriend, made in a joking manner.”
I nodded. “I think that’s nice.”
I think we both also knew that no matter what she said, speculation would still flow, and people would make their own assumptions about the truth. But at least she was addressing the situation instead of hiding from it.
She took a deep breath. “It’s damage control. We’ll see what the fallout looks like. I could have some very pissed off parents on my hands, or it could all blow over. I don’t know.”
I nodded. “Well, on the bright side, it’s not like you did drugs, stole from a clothing store, got a DUI or went crazy and shaved your head,” I rationalized, and she laughed. It was the first time I’d heard her laugh all day, and it felt good to hear it.
“I know, and I know I told you I never pretended to have a squeaky-clean image, so I’m not thinking anyone is going to be concerned that I’m having sex before marriage, but it’s the fact that it was so graphically stated what the sex I was having would entail.”
“I know,” I sighed.
It was also embarrassing as hell. I’d talked to my mom during my layover in Atlanta, and that hadn�
�t been a fun conversation. Never good for your mother to actually see what your girlfriend does to you in private. I’m just saying.
“Look on the bright side,” I said when Sydney just looked down at our joined hands and didn’t say anything else.
“Is there one?” she asked, not looking at me.
I reached out and tilted her chin up with my fingertips. “Yeah. There is. We don’t have to hide anymore.”
She smiled. “This is true.”
“We just won’t go online, watch TV or read magazines for a while,” I said, shrugging. “Sure, we’ll be the butt of a few jokes and people might have their opinions about us, but it’s probably better if we don’t hear any of them.”
She shook her head. “If only it were that simple. You don’t have to get up in front of thousands of people in a few hours and sing about love and smile and pretend to be happy.”
“Hey,” I said firmly, and she looked at me as if I’d smacked her. I shook my head. “Don’t do that.”
“Do what?”
“Belittle the fact that you are happy and in love. If you do that, you’re letting them win. You need to own this as much as you can. Don’t let them beat you. It’s what they want; to see you crying and broken down and embarrassed.”
“Oh, so I’m just supposed to go out there tonight and make blow job jokes. That’ll go over well. Hey, maybe that can be my new thing. You get a song and a dirty joke when you come to a Sydney Chase concert.”
I gave her a look that I hoped conveyed what I thought of that idea and her flippancy toward my advice.
“Syd,” I said and raised my eyebrows at her.
“I know,” she finally relented.
“Do you love me?” I asked her.
“Yes, you know I do.”
I shook my head. “That’s not why I’m asking. I know how you feel – and how you feel about my penis.”
Only With You Page 30