That realization made my steps falter for a moment, but then my chest filled with elation and all my fears disappeared, because wasn’t that what I’d been searching for? What every love song was about? Finding that someone who made you shine so bright that they couldn’t help but shine, too?
Lyrics licked my heart as my steps quickened.
Glow on, shine your light.
Tell me you can feel it too.
Somehow you were right.
This crazy thing is worth it,
Worth the fight.
An hour later I was turning onto Wyatt’s long tree-lined drive. I’d been lucky that my mom was off tonight. She let me borrow her car as long as I promised to be home by ten. Which was more than enough time to celebrate—not that I could ever have enough time with Wyatt.
Today had proven that.
I’d never realized what truly missing someone felt like until I’d had to go an entire day without Wyatt. I’d lost count of the amount of times I’d turned to tell him something or picked up my phone to send him a message about a new idea for a song.
In just a few days my orbit had shifted, and Wyatt had become my sun.
It should’ve been terrifying, but I couldn’t help feeling anything but joy today. Besides, I was done being scared of everything. Wyatt had convinced me to stop letting fear rule my life and just a short time of doing so had made all the difference. It was enough to make me throw caution to the wind and go for what I wanted—which was Wyatt.
I’d promised myself I’d wait, that I’d put music first or at least talk to Lola before doing anything rash, but something had clicked during my walk home today. I couldn’t stop thinking about Wyatt and how he’d helped me uncover my true self. When I was with him, I was happiest, and it was time I stopped waiting for the right time to hold onto that. The time was here and now, while I had the chance.
Hope filled my chest like a balloon. With my music and my heart on the same page for once, I felt like I might burst. How much good news could one person contain? Hopefully a bit more, because I was optimistic that Wyatt would have good news about his ankle, too.
And no, not just because he mentioned prom. But of course, I hadn’t been able to get that beautiful idea out of my head ever since Wyatt brought it up. I’d even dreamt about how good he’d look in a tux last night. Talk about a dreamy hero! He was practically 007, and he even had the accent to match.
Dancing with him at prom would be a dream come true.
I grinned as the Nash’s wrought iron gate came into view, holding onto the joy that was nearly bursting from my veins. I couldn’t wait to share every detail of it with Wyatt. Today had been truly incredible and he was the only one I wanted to share it with.
I pulled up to the intercom and pressed the button incessantly.
“Yessss,” came Wyatt’s sarcastic voice.
“We did it! We’re number one! Now let me in so I can kiss you!”
“Who is this?”
“Very funny, Wyatt! Let me in!”
“I’m sorry, but you’ll need to identify yourself first.”
I was about to reply with another witty retort when something about the voice on the intercom made the hairs on the back of my neck stand up, and not in a good way.
The voice sounded like Wyatt’s, but not. It was missing the smile that I knew accompanied his teasing tone. I swallowed, looking up at the camera. If this was a joke, I was going to kill him. I took a deep breath and narrowed my eyes, channeling my inner diva. If Wyatt was trying to get me to own the new me then I’d give him a show.
“This is Penny Layne, diva extraordinaire and NRSDA’s leading vocalist. Now open the gate!”
There was a smile to the voice now, but it wasn’t Wyatt’s. “Wyatt’s not here, but if you’d like you can come inside and wait for him.”
My lip trembled. “M-Mr. Nash?”
But I doubted he heard me since my voice was cut off by the loud mechanical whir of the gate opening.
I kept my footsteps light as I walked the familiar path to Wyatt’s front door, like tiptoeing would somehow make me seem like less of an intruder. Talk about getting off on the wrong foot! I might as well stomp right in after putting my foot in my mouth like I just had.
Really smooth, Layne.
I had no one to blame but myself for my blunder, but would it really have been too much to ask for a heads up from Wyatt that his dad was in town?
No wonder he wasn’t texting me back. From what he told me Wyatt hadn’t seen his dad in months. I wanted to meet the man who’d created the boy who’d changed my life, but I also didn’t want to disrupt family time since I knew how rarely Wyatt got it.
But then Mr. Nash’s words finally registered. He’d said Wyatt wasn’t home. Did he mean from the doctor? That couldn’t be right. His appointment was early this morning and Dr. Lang wasn’t that far outside town. I’d assumed that’s where he’d gone. That’s where all the Northwood jocks went.
Maybe he was visiting his grandparents again.
Oh no! Was that why Mr. Nash was here? Had something happened to Wyatt’s grandparents?
My heart was in my throat as I tried to rein in my runaway thoughts. I needed to just knock on the door and get some answers before I drove myself nuts. It’s not like Mr. Nash wasn’t expecting me after my cringe-worthy declarations on the intercom.
Too late to turn back now.
I took a deep breath to steady my racing heart and pressed the doorbell, jumping back at the noise. I’d been expecting a normal doorbell chime, but there was nothing normal about it. Instead, it sounded like I’d just announced the British were coming, as cathedral bells rang through the house, echoing across the massive grounds.
I winced, wondering when I’d ever get it through my thick head to expect the unexpected when it came to Wyatt. I mean look at this place—of course it didn’t have a normal doorbell.
Sighing, I clutched tighter to the box of donuts in my hands, preparing to meet Mr. Nash. I was probably about to make a huge fool of myself in front of him. But you know what? I didn’t even care. I’d tasted pure happiness today and I needed more of it.
I knew what I wanted now, and I was prepared to wait here until Wyatt walked through these very doors so I could tell him so.
Chapter Fifty-Four
Layne
“So, Layne, is it?” Mr. Nash asked, settling deeper into his large wing-backed chair.
“Yes, sir,” I replied politely.
We were in what was probably called the drawing room or winter study or something grand and ridiculous. I’d never been in this room before, but it had obviously been designed to intimidate with its massive stone fireplace and dark wood.
Mr. Nash sat near the crackling fire and I sat across from him. The divide between us was as vast as it felt. I’d had warmer college interviews than this!
“And how did you say you know my son?”
“I’m his partner for the NRSDA competition.”
I watched Mr. Nash’s dark eyebrows knit together. He looked so much like his son, yet so unalike. It was the most peculiar thing to look at someone who looked just like a person I was so fond of yet possessed none of the qualities.
It wasn’t that Mr. Nash was unlikeable. Aloof was a better word, and maybe self-important. And that wasn’t just because he didn’t know who I was. But we’d been sitting here making small talk for the past few minutes and it was becoming increasingly clear that he knew nothing about what was going on in his son’s life.
He hadn’t even known Wyatt had a doctor appointment today!
So, I guess I shouldn’t have been surprised when he looked bewildered by the news that his son was in a singing competition.
“Why does that name ring a bell?” he asked. “Wait. Is that the new show Post Malone is hosting? I was just talking to him about that. Are you two trying out?”
“No. NRSDA is the Northeast Regional Scholarship for the Dramatic Arts. You know, the program your wife is co-spon
soring,” I said, no longer trying to hide my annoyance. I knew I was being sassy, but I couldn’t help it. How could this guy be so clueless?
“Ah, yes. That’s right. I knew it sounded familiar.”
But I wasn’t so sure he did. How could he be so out of touch about what went on in his own family? No wonder Wyatt was always mad at his dad. He deserved a better one.
“So,” Mr. Nash said. “Wyatt’s competing? How did that happen?”
“I needed a singing partner. It’s kind of a long story. Maybe you should ask him about it,” I offered.
“Maybe I will.” A very Wyatt-like smirk spread across Mr. Nash’s face as he shook his head with amusement. “Singing, huh? I didn’t think he had it in him.”
That was it. Something in me snapped. “You’re joking right? Your son is an incredibly talented musician. I don’t know where my songs would be without him.”
“Ah, so you’re a musician?” he asked, like suddenly everything made sense to him. “I’ve gotta say, if you came here to give me your demo, I admire your tenacity. You’ll need that in this business, but I’m afraid I can already tell you’re not a good fit for my label. We usually work with more polished singers. Perhaps when you’re a little older—”
I stood, unable to sit through one more moment of his condescension. I cut him off, my blood boiling with anger. “Actually, I’m a songwriter, but thanks to Wyatt, I’m finding my voice. But that has nothing to do with why I’m here. I don’t have an ulterior motive and I’m definitely not trying to get on your label. I came to talk to your son, who’s an incredible human being, by the way. If you spent time with him, you’d know that.”
The shocked expression on Mr. Nash’s face told me I’d just crossed a line. Regret was a swift punch to my gut. I didn’t know what had come over me. I hadn’t said anything that wasn’t true, but I definitely shouldn’t have done it so rudely, especially in his home.
Crap! I was shaking, half with fury and half with fear. Had I really just insulted Wyatt’s father like that? I needed to leave before I said anything else I couldn’t take back. I picked up the jacket Wyatt had given me and muttered a rushed goodbye.
“I’ll just talk to Wyatt tomorrow,” I said, quickly making my escape.
But as luck would have it, I’d left my keys in the kitchen next to the box of donuts I’d brought. I made a beeline for them. I was just rushing into the kitchen when I heard the side door open, and Wyatt walked in. No, limped was a more accurate word. And he was on crutches!
Fear sliced through me. “Wyatt?”
His eyes, which had seemed sullen and drained, instantly lit up when he saw me. “Layne? What are you doing here?”
But just as I started to answer, his father walked into the room. I could practically feel the icicles forming as Wyatt’s bright expression turned dark and stormy. He closed up like a book when he saw his father. Having encountered the man, I couldn’t blame him.
“Dad?” Wyatt’s eyes darted worriedly between us. “What’s going on?”
“Nothing,” his father said, sidling up next to me to put an arm around my shoulder like I hadn’t just completely offended him a minute ago. “Layne here was just telling me all about her music.”
Wyatt’s eyes shot to mine. They were so full of hurt and betrayal for a moment I couldn’t speak. Then, his mother walked in, breaking the crackling tension in the room. Her eyes surveyed the scene quickly, narrowing in on her husband. “Bradford, I wasn’t expecting you.”
“This is my house,” he retorted coolly. “Do I need to be expected?”
She forced a smile at him, then her gaze shifted to me. “Layne, it’s good to see you. Why don’t we let you and Wyatt catch up?” she suggested, not so subtly giving her husband a hint to head to the other room.
Before she left the kitchen, she turned back, giving Wyatt a warning glance. “Remember what we talked about. Keep it short.”
Wyatt gave his mother a withering look, but when he turned those intense green eyes on me, he said, “Don’t worry, Layne was just leaving.”
I was? That was news to me since I hadn’t done any of the things I’d come here to do.
An hour ago, I’d had such high hopes for tonight. I’d come here with a firm grasp on my future and what part I wanted Wyatt to play in it. But now, with just one look from him, I felt like I was holding a cracked glass, desperately trying not to damage the already fragile pieces.
I’d never in my life been on the receiving end of such a hateful glare. If it had been Wyatt’s father looking at me like that I could understand, but Wyatt? What happened today?
I rushed forward, desperate to make sure he was okay. Because I could tell there was something more causing this kind of contempt. Again, my eyes went to his crutches. “Wyatt? What’s wrong? Is your ankle okay? Did you get bad news?”
He gave a bitter laugh. “Like you care.”
Shock resonated through my whole body, stopping me in my tracks. We stood only a few feet apart. So close yet so far away. I could sense the pain beneath his words. There was something seriously wrong. “Wyatt, talk to me. What’s wrong?”
He laughed again, but there was not an ounce of joy in the sound. “You, Layne. You’re what’s wrong. Or maybe it’s me. Because I must be stupid, right? I mean, I actually thought you were different. I thought you cared. But you’re just like everyone else.”
“What are you talking about?”
Wyatt crutched closer, hatred radiating off of him like steam on asphalt. “Why are you here, Layne?”
I swallowed the lump in my throat, forcing back the sting of tears. I will not cry! “I came to check on you. And . . . and to tell you about school and our music, and . . . and to . . . to . . .”
“To what? Get me to fall for you so you could get what you really want?”
“What? No. What are you talking about, Wyatt?”
“Give it up, Layne! I can see through your little act now.”
“What act?”
He shook his head, a wicked snarl curving his face. “You almost had me, but you’re just like everyone else. Just using me to see what you can get—my father, fame, fortune. Well, I’ve got news for you. It’s not going to happen. So why don’t you stop embarrassing yourself and leave?”
My mind scrambled to catch up. He thought I was using him?
I don’t know why that stung, but it did. And maybe my heart was already too broken to hurt anymore, because a strange calm flooded my veins as Wyatt’s words sunk in.
I didn’t know if I was in shock or what, but I was no longer scared and confused. I was angry, and that anger slithered under my skin like ice, protecting me from the words he’d just used to impale my heart.
It was my turn to advance on him. I took a step closer, then another. Only stopping when we were mere inches apart.
My eyes locked on his, my voice steady. “Is that really what you think of me, Wyatt? After all this time, after everything we shared, you think I was using you?”
He gave an indifferent shrug. “If the shoe fits.”
I pressed my lips into a firm line, nodding slowly as I willed the cool collected feeling to settle over me. In reality, I could feel cracks forming along this façade. My world felt so breakable right now, my insides a churning pit of despair, but I would not let Wyatt see it.
This was not how I thought things would go, but if this was truly how Wyatt felt, then he didn’t know me at all and there was nothing here worth fighting for.
The thought gutted me, but what could I do? Suddenly, I felt tired, like all the hope and joy I’d ever possessed had been plunged into darkness with the flip of a switch.
But I refused to leave without speaking the truth.
“Fine, I’ll leave,” I said. “But before I do, get one thing straight. I came here tonight for you. To tell you that today was the best day of my life, because people saw me in my music, and they loved it. So much so that I’m leading the vote on the website. But here’s the irony, Wyatt. I
couldn’t enjoy a minute of it because all I wanted to do was share it with you.” I huffed a sad laugh. “I came here tonight to tell you how I really feel. That you matter more than the music. That I’m choosing you. But I can see that it doesn’t matter. Your mind is made up.” I gave a weak shrug. “I guess you’re not who I thought you were.”
“Right back at ya,” he said, as I picked up my keys off the counter.
I should’ve just kept my head high and walked out the door, but his words hurt me no matter how much I told myself they didn’t. I turned back and glared at him. “You know what, Wyatt, maybe your dad’s not the problem here. Maybe it’s you.”
“That’s rich coming from someone who’s using me.”
I gave him one final look. “Think what you want, Wyatt. But you’re wrong.” Then I walked out the door, my heart splintering with every footstep.
Chapter Fifty-Five
Wyatt
When my front door slammed closed, I threw my crutches across the kitchen, my chest heaving with anger. I didn’t know what to think, but the things that were whirling through my head weren’t good.
Layne had vehemently denied she was using me, but I didn’t believe her. Why else would she show up at my house unannounced on the one day my father happened to be home? And it’s not like it would be the first time I’d been used for my family connections. I wasn’t paranoid without reason.
My entire childhood was a failed lesson in trust and friendship. I’d lost count of the number of girls who’d pretended to like me just for free concert tickets or friends who were only around when I conveniently had seats in my dad’s Yankee box or invites to my obscenely over the top birthday parties or vacations.
But I was done with that. I was so tired of being used. That’s why I’d carefully crafted my detached loner persona at Northwood. I didn’t want anyone to get too close. And it had been working perfectly until Layne came along and ruined everything, making me feel things and unlocking emotions that I’d tucked away.
Kissing The Hero (The Dangers of Dating a Diva Book 2) Page 20