Dating Him: The Series

by Michelle MacQueen

  “I’m sorry, Nicky. It wasn’t a PR stunt. I didn’t plan it, it just happened.”

  “How does a straight man suddenly decide to make out with another guy on the fly—in front of the whole Goddamn world? You want me to help you with this mess you’ve made, then give me an honest answer right freaking now. Why did you kiss me?”

  “I told you.” Beckett’s shoulders slumped. “Kenny was breaking your heart right there in front of me, and all I could think about was how much better you could do than him.”

  “And better is what? You? We’re back at the part where I’m not sure you realize I’m a guy.”

  “I don’t know, Nicky. I guess I don’t have an answer.”

  “Then you need to figure it out, Becks, because until you can give me an honest answer, you’re going to need to find someone else to be your fake boyfriend. It’s not going to be me.”

  “I, ah…I need to be your boyfriend for a little while.” Nicky closed his eyes, forcing himself to relax and think about anything other than Beckett Anderson. This was his last summer before college. He wanted to spend it working at the Main, hanging out with his friends, and on his off days, at home by the pool with a good book and some peace and quiet.

  Nicky was a quiet guy. Not shy, but he liked his alone time. He preferred spending time with his few close friends over noisy nights out among strangers. He didn’t do small talk either. He could talk all day about issues that mattered with someone who had something interesting to say, but he’d rather be alone than among strangers.

  The last two weeks had pushed him to his limits, and he needed to recharge in his own environment.

  “Hey, get out of here!” Nicky’s father roared, turning the hose away from his black flower garden—his pride and joy—to the photographers lurking in the trees. “Stay away from my son.”

  “Is that Grayson St. Germaine?” The voices came from above. Nicky slid his sunglasses down to see the photographer in the tree right above him.

  “Seriously?” Nicky winced at the camera flashes.

  “Nicky, you didn’t tell us your dad’s an NFL Hall of Famer.”

  “He’s not telling you anything.”

  Nicky choked back a laugh as his dad hosed the two photographers down until they were drenched and running for the street.

  “Nice one, Pop.”

  “Damn vultures,” Grayson grumbled. “Worse than when I was drafted. But I asked for it, you didn’t do anything to deserve this. And you can kiss whoever you damn well want to.”

  “Thanks, Pop.” Three years ago, his father would have been drunk by ten a.m. and yelling at his disappointment of a son—not gardening and protecting Nicky like a papa bear. Rehab had brought his father back to him, and he was grateful for it.

  “Well, look at what the cat dragged in,” Grayson said.

  “Hey, Pop,” Avery said. “Finals were tough this year, but I had some time off this week.”

  Nicky glanced behind him to see his brother coming in through the back gate.

  “You wouldn’t know anything about the half drowned photographers that just ran past me, would you?” Avery eyed the garden hose their father held like a weapon.

  “Trespassers,” Grayson grumbled.

  Avery tilted his head back and laughed. “Pop’s turned into the ‘get off my lawn’ guy.” He settled down on the lounge chair next to Nicky beside the pool.

  “I’ll just let you two catch up. I have some black sunflowers to plant.” Grayson marched back across the yard to his ever-growing flower garden.

  “That garden is damned creepy.” Avery shuddered.

  “Why are you here, Avery?” Nicky sighed.

  “I wanted to check on my little brother. Is that a bad thing?”

  “As long as you aren’t here to talk me into being Becks’ fake boyfriend, then we’re good.” Nicky slid his sunglasses back on.

  “I’m staying out of that,” Avery said.

  “But?”

  “But, I’m worried about Becks.”

  “He’ll land on his feet. I’m sure he’ll talk his way out of this mess and manage to get his album and his tour too.”

  “I don’t know, Nicky. I’ve never seen him like this. I’m worried—have been for a while. Becks hasn’t been himself lately—even before whatever that was with the…thing.”

  “The kiss?”

  “Yeah, that.”

  “He seemed like the same old Becks when he was here.” Nicky shrugged.

  “Let’s face it, Becks’ head has to be a scary place on his best day, but he’s been down lately. He doesn’t always show it. Nari and I know him better than anyone else, and something isn’t right.”

  “And what am I supposed to do about it?” Nicky crossed his arms over his chest.

  “Be his friend, like you’ve always been. Try to understand that he might be going through something he doesn’t understand yet.”

  “Are you saying he’s no longer God’s gift to women? Now he’s gay and doesn’t know it?” Nicky rolled his eyes.

  “No, but I would think you would be among the first to understand everything isn’t always black and white. He’s had two crazy, stressful years. I can imagine it’s not always easy to be Beckett Anderson.”

  “Okay, now what are you trying to say?”

  “Becks loves you, Nicky. He loves all of his friends, and he’s never been the type to get hung up on labels and rules. He saw you were hurting and wanted to fix it. I think it’s as simple as that. And now his career is on the line.”

  “Ugh, you weren’t supposed to talk me into this.” Nicky threw his towel at his brother. “You’ve taken too many psych classes.”

  “All I’m saying is he could use a friend right now.”

  “You know if it was anything else, I’d have his back in a heartbeat. I just don’t think I can do this fake boyfriend thing with all the cameras and attention.”

  “Believe me, I understand, little man. We would all understand if you decide you can’t help him. Just be his friend. That’s all he really needs.”

  Nicky paced across his bedroom, a towel draped loosely around his hips.

  “I do not want to do this, damn it.” He ran a hand through his damp hair. After a few laps in the pool and one very long, hot shower, Nicky still wanted to choke Beckett Anderson with his bare hands.

  Just the thought of pandering to the reporters and photographers he’d spent the last two weeks dodging turned his stomach. “And I’m a terrible actor. No one will ever believe we’re actually together.” He threw his arms up in the air and rested them on the back of his neck. “How did my life become this insane circus?”

  “Nicky, you asked for the truth.” Becks barged into his bedroom without knocking.

  Nicky jumped at the sound of his voice. “What the hell is wrong with you?” Nicky lunged for his towel as it fell to the floor. “Dammit, don’t you know how to knock?” Nicky grabbed a pillow off his bed to cover himself.

  “S-sorry.” Becks stared at him, stumbling back toward the door. “I-I’ll come back when you’re dressed.”

  Nicky’s heart raced, and he knew his face was bright red. He scrambled to his closet and threw on some jeans and a t-shirt. “You can come in now.” Nicky cringed at the way his words came out all husky. Get it together man.

  “Right. Sorry about that.” Becks dropped his gaze to his feet in a very un-Becks kind of way.

  “You were saying something about the truth.”

  “Yeah.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “I think I need to sit. Can I sit?” He sank down onto the desk chair across the room.

  “Sure, make yourself at home.” Nicky leaned against his dresser, his arms folded across his chest.

  “So, yeah. I can’t really explain why I kissed you. That’s the simple truth, I don’t know what came over me, other than what I said before. I wanted Kenny to know you could do so much better. I wanted to make him hurt the way he hurt you. It didn’t mean anything. I’m comfortable enough in my
sexuality to say it was no big deal. You know I love all kinds of people. I love women—especially pretty blond ones, but I love Avery too. And you … and Julian—hell I tried to date Addie all through high school.

  “My label is going to dump my ass if I have to come out as straight. They are prepared to react with a statement that it was a PR stunt of my own making that they never approved. No one in Nashville will touch me after that.”

  “Becks, I—”

  Becks held up a hand. “Just let me get this out.” He rubbed a hand over his sweaty brow. “Jesus, it’s hot in here,” he muttered, taking a deep breath. “I need your help, but I understand if the spotlight is more than you can handle. I just need to know we’re still friends. I have a lot of people in my life, Nicky, but I don’t have that many friends, and I don’t want to lose you over this.”

  “You’re a son of a bitch.” Nicky shook his head.

  “I’m not blowing smoke, Nicky, I swear—”

  Nicky held his hand up. “It’s my turn to talk.”

  “Okay.” Becks actually shut up for once in his life.

  “I love you too, you big idiot. I’ll help you.” Nicky sighed, hoping he wouldn't live to regret this.

  “You’ll be my boyfriend?” Becks’ face split into a wide grin.

  “Yes, but can you please break my heart as soon as possible so I can go back to my nice quiet life? I’d really like the whole world to forget my name before I start at Vanderbilt this fall.”

  “I swear you will not regret it.” Becks shot across the room to pull him into a hug. He whirled Nicky around and dipped him, a stupid grin on his face. “It will be a whirlwind June romance, and then it will die a quick death, I promise.” Becks pulled Nicky back up and glanced down at him, his lips just inches away. Nicky licked his lips, thinking about how soft and hungry those full lips were against his.

  This was a very bad idea.

  6

  Beckett

  “Sometimes, you just know.” Becks leaned back in the leather chair they’d seated him in for the interview. He flashed one of his brilliant smiles at the camera and reached out beside him to graze a fingertip down Nicky’s arm.

  Nicky sat with a rigid posture, his jaw set with tension. He’d barely said two words. Becks could hardly look at him without guilt gnawing at his insides. It was his fault Nicky was in this position, uncomfortable and nervous.

  But Becks didn’t let his smile drop. He couldn’t.

  “Nicky.” Calvin Harding leaned forward against his desk, his ironed suit pressing against the wood. “How long have you known Beckett was in love with you? He says it’s been a long time coming, but we haven’t gotten your side of the story.”

  Nicky swallowed heavily as his wide eyes shifted to the morning show host. Becks tried to grip his hand in support, but Nicky moved it out of his reach. “Um…I didn’t.”

  Becks forced a laugh. “What he means, Calvin, is that I tried to tell him, but he didn’t believe me. You see, I’m not one to hold my feelings back.”

  Calvin smiled at that, accepting it easily. The good-time country singer was known for his open nature. They’d never believe an ounce of dishonesty in him. That was one of the reasons the country found it so easy to become entranced in his whirlwind romance with the non-famous Nicky.

  “You have a song called ‘About a Boy.’ You sing it as if you’re speaking of a girl who couldn’t have the boy she loved.”

  Becks interrupted him. “I can’t go telling you the story behind all my songs. How would I remain so mysterious?”

  The audience laughed at the joke. He was seen as anything but mysterious.

  Calvin looked to the audience. “That’s all we have time for today, folks.” His eyes shifted to Becks and Nicky. “Thank you both for coming.”

  The red light on the camera flickered off, and Nicky let out an audible exhale.

  Calvin shook his head. “It gets easier, kid.” He grabbed the papers from the top of his desk. “Good luck, boys.” With a nod, he walked toward the side of the stage where the producer awaited him.

  Becks turned to the still-seated Nicky. “Nick-Nick.” His voice softened. “You okay?”

  This was only interview number one. If Nicky couldn’t handle the simple morning shows, how was he going to get through this? When Nicky lifted his dark gaze to Becks, all Becks wanted to do was take the uncertainty from his eyes.

  Running his fingers under Nicky’s jaw, he tilted his head back so their eyes locked. “Are you okay, Nicky?”

  Nicky pushed his hand away. “No.” He stood, forcing Becks back. “This will work a lot better if you stop touching me all the time.” With a shake of his head, he left Becks standing there and joined Avery at the side of the stage.

  How were they supposed to act like boyfriends if they didn’t touch? Becks curled his fingers into a fist. He’d imagined Nicky arriving in Nashville and making everything okay with his sweetness. But where had that guy gone?

  Skylar appeared at Beckett’s side, offering him a bottle of water. “You did great out there.” The label sent her to babysit. She’d officially become the point runner on the Beckett and Nicky romance tour. “Nicky, on the other hand…we need to give that boy some interview lessons.”

  “It was only his first one, Sky.” Becks had always felt the need to protect Nicky, but this went deeper than that.

  She crossed her arms. “This morning.”

  “What?”

  “His first one this morning. You two are set to meet with a reporter from the Country Chronicle this afternoon. Tomorrow, you’ll have a radio interview in the morning and a late show appearance that’s being filmed in the afternoon. And that’s really only the beginning.”

  Beckett’s jaw tightened. He had no words for what the label was putting Nicky through. “Why all this attention?”

  She leaned in, dropping her voice. “Because you’re a sensation, cousin. This is wonderful for you. Don’t let the opportunity slip away. PR is how careers are made.”

  “I need to talk to Nicky.”

  “He already left with Avery.”

  Becks cursed. “Of course, he did.”

  “Avery asked me for some time alone with his brother. I told him I’d send a car to pick Nicky up for the meeting later. As for you…” She looked down at the schedule on her phone. “You’re due for a session with the writers.”

  “I write my own songs, Sky.”

  “Sorry, Becks. You write what the label wants you to write. No one is saying they can’t be your words, but it won’t hurt to have some of our best songwriters look at them to at least see how they can be improved upon.”

  He sighed. Welcome to his new life. He gestured to the door where his driver waited. “Lead the way.”

  Tired was the new normal for Becks. He walked into the café they’d chosen for the meeting with his driver following him. Ryan tended to stay out of Becks’ way, so he didn’t mind it when the label assigned him.

  Stepping up to the counter, Becks pretended not to notice the wide-eyed stare of the barista. She fiddled with the ends of her auburn hair. “You’re… Are you Beckett Anderson?”

  He wiped all tiredness from his face and smiled. Meeting fans was the best part of his job, and he loved their support. He was never sure anymore if they loved his music or had just seen the video of him stopping the concert to kiss Nicky.

  “I am. It’s nice to meet you.”

  Her cheeks reddened. “My sister is never going to believe this. Can I get a picture?”

  “Of course.”

  She pulled out her phone, and he leaned across the counter for her to take a selfie. “Thank you so much. Your song ‘Can’t Stop Dreaming of You’ is basically my life right now. I listen to it every day.”

  His smile turned genuine at the mention of his music. That was the real star. He didn’t care if anyone knew him, but the songs he’d poured his soul into deserved the recognition.

  “What can I get you?” she asked.


  He considered the menu hanging overhead for a moment. “Sugar. I need sugar. Something so sweet it’ll rot my teeth out.” That was the kind of day he was having. The label’s writers didn’t get the new songs he’d written at all. It was frustrating not to be understood. Being told to change his lyrics was like being told he needed to change himself.

  The barista considered him for a moment. “What about a strawberry frappe with mountains of whipped cream?”

  “That sounds perfect.” He’d always loved girly-sounding drinks. Sue him. Drinks shouldn’t have genders anyway, so if anyone made fun of them, he’d smash a guitar over their heads. Okay, not really. He was just in a really bad mood.

  He pulled out his credit card. “I also need a coffee, black, and a vanilla latte with one of those fun designs on the top.” He didn’t know how he remembered so much about Nicky from being around him two years ago.

  After paying for the drinks, Becks dropped the coffee off with Ryan, who’d taken a seat by the window, then made his way to the only person in the place who looked like a reporter.

  A pretty middle-aged woman with smooth, dark skin and braided black hair said, “Beckett Anderson.” She gestured to the chair across the table. “It’s a pleasure to meet you. I’m Latisha Martin. I’m beyond happy I get to do this interview. Is your boyfriend joining us?”

  Becks glanced toward the door. Nicky was late. Maybe he’d changed his mind about everything after the morning show.

  “I honestly don’t know.”

  She shrugged off his answer. “Well, while we wait, why don’t you tell me what’s next for you.”

  He smiled, knowing he could talk about his music all day. “We’ve been in the studio a lot working on our second album.”

  She jotted a few notes down. “Will we get to see you on tour any time soon?”

  He unleashed his patented sneaky grin. “Well, Latisha, that is not something I can divulge quite yet.”

  “Not even to a friend?”

  He laughed. “Nice try. You’ll find out soon enough. I will promise you, though, it’ll be spectacular.”