I watched her face brighten with a mixture of wonder and disbelief. Thankfully, the light turned green and I shifted my eyes back to the road. I was glad I had driving to focus on because the way Layne was looking at me made my insides churn.
Had I really just told her that I thought she was unforgettable?
I mean, she was. Everything about her mesmerized me. But this wasn’t real. It was just a fun distraction. It’s what we’d agreed to and I needed to remember that.
Getting attached wouldn’t do either of us any good. Layne was going places and me . . . Well, I wasn’t. And I didn’t need to drag her into my messy life.
My mind scrambled for a way to break the awkward silence between us, but Layne spoke first.
“What about you?” she asked. “What do you want out of life?”
I huffed a laugh. That was the question wasn’t it? “Sorry to disappoint you, but I haven’t figured that out yet.”
She smiled brightly. “Don’t worry. You will.”
She said it with such confidence I almost believed her. What I wouldn’t give for it to be true. If I knew what I wanted out of life it would be so much easier. I’d certainly be less of a disappointment to my parents. How many times had my father told me I’d been given everything only to throw it all away? As if he thought I enjoyed the anxious solitude that came with aimlessness.
I’d love to have a dream to chase. But that was the thing about dreams, you had to have them in order to go after them. But I’d stopped dreaming long ago. How could I still believe in dreams when my father did such a good job of crushing them?
You could only be told you were a disappointment so many times before you started to believe it. And honestly, how could I turn out any other way, when I’d had nothing but disappointing role models, more focused on our family’s fortune than our actual family?
My jaw flexed trying to tamp down my spiteful feelings. Normally, being with Layne kept my depressing thoughts about my family and future away. It was half the appeal of our arrangement. She was the distraction I desperately needed.
Tonight had been a good night and I was determined not to let it end on a bad note.
“Okay, your turn,” I said. “We’ve established you don’t want fame, so what’s your biggest dream for your music?”
She cut her eyes at me. “What is this, twenty questions?” she mocked.
“Hey, you’re the one who told me to try out small talk.”
Layne laughed. “We’ve graduated past small talk.”
“Have we?”
“We’re talking about hopes and dreams, Wyatt. This is like super advanced friendship talk.”
I grinned. “Well, thanks for the promotion. Now answer the question.”
“Why am I the only one in the hot seat?” she challenged.
“Because tonight is about you.”
“Fine, but tomorrow we do you.”
I barked a laugh. “You can do me any time you like, Penny Layne.”
Layne rolled her eyes, but she still couldn’t stop that pretty pink flush from creeping into her cheeks.
“Dreams: go,” I said, not wanting our fun banter to come to an end just yet. We still had quite a drive ahead of us.
“Okay, fine. If I have to pick one dream for my music, it would be to have a song on the radio.”
“That’s it? That’s your one big dream?”
“Yes. What’s wrong with that?”
“Dream bigger!” I shouted. “Think Grammys or platinum albums.”
“One song on the radio would be enough for me.” She shrugged. “Sometimes it’s not about the size of the dream, but what it means.”
Her words astounded me. “Where did you come from, Penny Layne?”
“What do you mean?”
“Beautiful, talented and humble? If you weren’t sitting right here next to me, I would think I’d dreamt you up.”
She snorted a laugh. “Okay, we better get you something to eat, stat! You obviously have low blood sugar or something with all of these compliments.”
I let her joke away my praise, but as I gazed at her my chest filled with something that felt like hope. Maybe I wasn’t too cynical to dream after all.
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Layne
We sat on Wyatt’s bed, Lord Huron playing in the background, while we finished up the pizza we’d stopped for on the drive home. We were scouring the movie app on Wyatt’s iPad as we argued over what movie to watch.
“It’s the best movie of all time,” I declared, swiping to one of my favorites.
Wyatt gave me an exasperated look. “That’s a ridiculous statement.”
“I stand by it.”
“Really? The best?”
“Of. All. Time,” I clarified.
He rolled his eyes.
“Oh, come on,” I argued. “You can’t tell me Say Anything wasn’t genius. I mean the soundtrack alone is epic, but the way that Crowe captured teenaged angst, it’s so real.”
Wyatt shrugged. “Never seen it.”
“What?! Okay, that settles it. That’s what we’re watching tonight.”
“If we’re basing this selection on movies we haven’t seen, there are a lot more to consider.”
“Nope! I’m playing my diva card. We’re watching Say Anything.”
Wyatt laughed, his deep true laugh that made the corners of his eyes wrinkle. “I knew the fame would go to your head.”
“It’s your own fault. You told me tonight was my night.”
“So, I did,” he replied, his eyes still smiling even as he tried to pretend he was dreading my movie choice. “Alright then, my little diva. Queue it up, while I hit the lights.”
Wyatt climbed off the bed and took the pizza box with him, turning off the music and dimming the lights. I knew he had an incredible media room downstairs, but I liked hanging out in his bedroom. It was one of the only parts of the massive house that felt normal.
The first time I’d seen his room I’d been surprised. It wasn’t what I’d expected of the popular Wyatt Nash I knew from Northwood High. But I was learning he wasn’t really that boy.
His room wasn’t covered with sports posters or swimsuit models. Instead, album covers, ticket stubs and a vintage Beatles tapestry covered his walls. He had a large bed, small desk and three shelves of books, most of them about cars or music. The far wall had an overstuffed chair by the large picture window, a telescope, and two guitars leaned up next to his record collection.
I watched him turn off the lamp next to the record player and the butterflies in my stomach awoke. It wasn’t lost on me that I was alone in a boy’s bedroom. Well, not alone—I was alone with Wyatt. And that was the problem.
Sometimes looking at him made my breath catch. Like right now, as the dim light from the moon illuminated the planes of his face. He was painfully beautiful and as he climbed into his bed next to me, I stilled. The intoxicating scent of his cologne wrapped around me making me feel as though my heart was in a blender.
I knew we were just friends, maybe not even that. He was my partner. But it was getting harder and harder not to imagine how lovely it would be if he were more. His arm brushed against mine as he reached for the iPad on my lap and I shivered.
“Are you cold?” he asked, slipping his arm around me.
My skin sparked to life, burning everywhere we touched. I was the opposite of cold, but I’d rather suffocate in my own inferno of shameful longing than ask him to move his arm.
What was wrong with me? I didn’t let boys distract me. I’d made it seventeen years without falling for one. I would not let Wyatt Nash break my perfect record.
We had one more week together. I could make it seven days, right?
Wyatt settled in next to me, giving me another heart-stopping smile.
Seven days, I reminded myself. Keep it together, Layne. But as the score to my favorite movie started up, my heart was already trying to ignore reason.
Maybe watching Say Anything with W
yatt was a bad idea. We were basically Lloyd and Diane, but in reverse.
Did that mean our fate would be as harrowing?
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Wyatt
Halfway through the movie my phone started buzzing. I looked down, groaning when I saw who it was. I ignored the call and turned my phone on silent, but that didn’t stop it from vibrating incessantly.
The last thing I wanted to do was pick up the call. I was enjoying my perfect bubble of bliss way too much. Layne was tucked against me, reciting her favorite lines and giggling adorably at everything Lloyd did.
She’d been right, the movie was great, and I was desperate to see if the anxiously aimless Lloyd came out on top.
He was as unlikely a hero as I was, but I strangely found myself rooting for him. Perhaps it was because I saw so much of myself in him. And so much of Layne in Diane’s character. It was completely unreasonable, but I felt like if Diane and Lloyd could find a happily ever after, that meant there was hope for me and my Penny Layne.
So, when my phone buzzed for the tenth time, I wanted to throw it across the room.
“You can answer it,” Layne said.
“Sorry. I probably should or they’ll just keep calling.” I paused the movie and reluctantly unwrapped my arm from around Layne, sliding out of bed to take the call.
“Hey,” I said into the phone.
Screaming on the other end made me pull the phone away from my ear as my teammates’ voices filled the room. “Wyatt! We won! Woohoo!”
“Congrats,” I replied.
“You should be here, man! Yeah, come out and celebrate with us.”
“Nah, I’m gonna sit this one out, mates.”
“Come on, Nash! Don’t be lame!”
“Sorry. Doctor’s orders.”
“Aw come on, we’re at Noah’s,” Jake yelled. “You can be here in like thirty minutes.”
“Yeah,” another of my teammates chided. “Since when does a sprained ankle mean you can’t party?”
“Uh, since I know how your parties end up,” I remarked.
More laughter and cheering ensued on the other end and I could already picture the raging party Jake was throwing at his cousin Noah’s lake house.
I’d been to Noah Scott’s place a few times last summer when he was home from college. The kid threw legendary parties, but there was always some kind of drama.
That kind of thing had never really been my scene, but to fit in with my teammates I’d had to endure more than my fair share of shenanigans since moving to Northwood. In the last few times I’d partied with the baseball team, I’d seen a kid drive his car into Noah’s front garden, someone fall out of a tree, a bonfire rage out of control and six guys sink a paddle boat in the lake during a midnight race.
I looked down at Franken-boot. Yeah, one sprained ankle was more than enough for me.
“Sorry, I’ve got a checkup with my doc next week and I’m not adding more time to my sentence in this boot.”
“Not even to party with us?”
“Sorry, mates. Tie one on for me, though. Go Trojans.”
“Go Trojans!” the guys echoed.
I sighed, grateful they were so easily distracted. I congratulated them again and hung up the phone, climbing back into my bed.
Even though Layne was still sitting there, her face bright and unassuming, the reality I’d been trying to avoid came crashing back in.
This wasn’t my real life. In a week, the competition would be over, and I wouldn’t have an angel distracting me from my bleak future. My ankle hurt just thinking about it. I undid the straps and loosened the boot so my foot could breathe.
I’d forgotten to take any Tylenol today and hadn’t had time to ice my ankle at all. Normally, having Layne around was all the pain relief I needed. But my sudden reality check was sobering me from the euphoria she normally made me feel.
I was aware of her eyes on me as I massaged my swollen ankle. I tried to wiggle my toes and hissed in pain. Layne was instantly by my side. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine.”
“Do you need some ice or something?”
“Tylenol would probably help. It’s on my dresser.”
She climbed off my bed and returned with the pills, handing me a water bottle from my nightstand. “Can I get you anything else?”
I shook my head. Layne put the pill bottle back and climbed into my bed again, settling closer to me this time. “I think you may have overdone it on stage, Donny,” she teased.
“Hey, I was Donny and Marie, thank you very much.”
She giggled. “How did you know your crazy plan would work tonight?”
“I didn’t.”
“Really? You didn’t think I’d get up on stage with you?”
I shook my head. “I knew you could, and I hoped you would, but I was never going to force you to do something you didn’t want to do.”
“Well, I’m glad I did it. It really convinced me that I need to stop being so afraid of everything if I ever want my music to have a chance.”
I nodded. “It’s all about trust.”
“Trust?”
“Yeah, you’ve got to learn to trust yourself, your instincts, your talent . . . your partner,” I added, wiggling my eyebrows.
She knocked her shoulder into mine and grinned. “So, where did you learn all this trust stuff?”
I huffed a laugh. “It’s more like trust issues in my house.”
“Your mom doesn’t seem so bad,” Layne said.
“She’s not.”
“So, then why the trust issues?”
Why did this keep coming up tonight? I looked down at my lap, wondering how best to avoid dredging up all the bad memories I associated with my father. All the times he’d let me down, choosing work and clients over me, telling me I wasn’t good enough when he did bother to show up.
“I mean, I get it,” Layne said. “I have a hard time trusting people after my dad ditched me.”
My eyes met hers and she sighed, picking at an invisible spec on my comforter.
“I was eight when he left,” she said. “He went to work one day, emptied our bank account and just disappeared like we didn’t matter at all. Like he wasn’t abandoning us and ruining our lives.” Her dark eyes met mine. “I know it wasn’t my fault he left, I do, but the thing I hate most is that no matter what I tell myself, he still took a part of me that I’ll never get back. The part that believed people were good, that part that believed in hopes and dreams and love.”
She took a breath and let it out slowly. “And I hate him so much for what he did to my mom. It’s almost like I lost two parents when he left us. I know he hurt me, but he devastated her. And now she works so much that I barely see her. And when she is around, she’s too exhausted to do anything with me. It’s not her fault and I don’t blame her, but I know how it feels to have parents that let you down, Wyatt. I’m on your side.”
I swallowed the anger that bubbled up again. How could some people be so heartless? To leave your wife and little daughter? It was unforgivable.
I clenched my jaw trying to get a hold of my emotions. When I opened my mouth to respond, I surprised myself with my honesty. “Sometimes I wish my dad would just leave.”
“Why?”
“It would be easier than hoping he might change. He’s never around. He and my mother basically live separate lives already. And honestly, it’s easier that way. When he shows up, he expects us to drop everything and do what he wants, like his life is so much more important than anything else we could have going on.”
I exhaled and scrubbed a hand over my face in frustration. “Do you know he never even came to see me play this year? It’s my senior year and my dad never bothered to make time to see me play baseball.” I stared down at my throbbing foot. “And now he can’t.”
I shook my head, upset that I still let him disappoint me after all this time.
Layne reached over and threaded her fingers through mine. “Your dad’s
an idiot.”
I huffed a laugh. “Thanks.”
“But,” she added. “Don’t make the world suffer for one blind man’s mistakes.”
This time I laughed for real. “I’m gonna stop sharing my wisdom if you’re just going to use it against me.”
We both laughed and fell into a comfortable silence, our shoulders resting easily together as we leaned against my headboard staring at the stars outside my large picture window.
“I’m sorry,” Layne said interrupting the silence. “About your ankle. I don’t think I’ve said that before.”
I refastened my boot and leaned back against the headboard, turning to face her.
“What do you have to be sorry for? It’s not your fault.”
“I know. It’s not that. I guess, I just know it’s awful to lose something you love. If I lost music, I don’t know what I’d do.”
I shook my head. “I don’t love baseball.”
“But I heard your mom say you’ve played for a long time.”
I shrugged. “I have. But it was just something to do.”
Layne scooted closer, moving her hand to my arm. “Still, I’m sorry that you can’t play anymore. I know how hard it is when choices in life are made for us.”
I leaned my head back and closed my eyes, trying to push back the emotions her words stirred. Because she was right. That was the part that sucked about all of this. My injury had taken baseball away, and it was the straw that finally broke the camel’s back.
So much of my life was out of my control; where we lived, how much time my parents spent with me, even this competition. My eyes opened and my head snapped up. I looked at Layne, suddenly wondering if that’s what she meant.
Lola getting mono had forced Layne to lose her partner, then my mother had basically forced me on Layne as a replacement. My heart sank. I didn’t want to be one more choice Layne didn’t get to make. But even more than that, I didn’t want Layne’s pity.
I was about to open my mouth to say so when she surprised me by threading her fingers through mine again, her dark eyes full of a kindness I wasn’t used to.
Kissing The Hero (The Dangers of Dating a Diva Book 2) Page 14