Lovestruck

5. Allie

CHAPTER 5

Allie

I kicked my feet on the mattress like a little girl. Texting with Theo—Teddy—was thrilling, but hearing his voice? Gave me chills from head to toe.

That first day, in my emotional state, I hadn’t paid much attention to the timbre of his voice. Many, many song lyrics could be written about just the sounds of him saying normal words, and I could guarantee I’d write some of those as soon as we hung up. The ideas already swirled in my head.

And Mallie ? Gah. I couldn’t believe I felt like a teenager right now. Bailey would have a field day with this, and I would tell her every single detail the second I could get hold of her.

“Mallie?” There it was again. I shivered, goose bumps on my arms.

“Teddy?” I pictured it now—me, cocooned in his arms, safe and protected. Mallorie Witt. Stop it right now. What in the hell are you doing? You aren’t going to be safe and protected in anyone’s arms.

“I really enjoy talking to you.”

I sighed, ignoring the butterflies taking flight in my stomach. “Same.”

“Is this just a onetime thank-you conversation?”

Damn if he didn’t just put it right out there like that, and damn if I didn’t like it. I wasn’t one for playing coy or mincing words, either. There was just no room in my life for playing games, not ever, but especially not now. I was done not getting exactly what I wanted and making no apologies for it.

“Because I’m going to be honest with you. I will never, ever sugarcoat or lie to you. I don’t want it to be a onetime conversation.”

I sucked in a breath and worried my lip between my teeth. He was direct, and I liked it. “I don’t want it to be a onetime conversation, either, but I have to be honest with you, too.”

“Please do.”

“I’m in a crazy part of my life right now. With all this nonsense with Josiah, and I’ll be on tour for months ...”

“Mallie,” he interrupted. I had never liked a nickname more. “I have a hectic life, too. I get it. But please, let’s just be real with each other. First, you don’t have to be superstar Allie with me. You’re just Mallorie. Mallie. A girl whose job is to sing and do a damn good job at it.”

“And your job is to play football. Very well.”

Theo laughed. “Right. We don’t need to put conditions or excuses on things. And something you do not have to do? Try to make yourself smaller to talk to me. Like I told you the day we met, don’t ever do that for anyone again. Be who you are, unapologetically, and the right people will find you. It does not matter to me one bit that you have an absurd schedule and life. I love that about you. I may not understand it on your level, but I understand it.”

I stared at the phone, unable to speak. How did this man do that? He always said exactly what I needed to hear at the time.

“Wow.”

“What?”

“You’re good with words. I thought I was the lyricist.”

Theo laughed. “I’m not feeding you lines. This is just me. I want to keep talking to you. I don’t care when that is or how often. I don’t care if it’s a text that says hi. You don’t ever have to wonder who I will talk to about you or what I will do because that’s not who I am. No pressure at all.”

“Thank you.” I believed every word he said because he hadn’t shown me any different. That little pessimist in my brain that had been burned tried to interject her objection that Josiah had said similar things when we first met, but I silenced her.

“Mallie?”

“Teddy?”

We both laughed. “I like you,” he said.

“You barely know me.” It was an automatic response, but I didn’t really believe that. Theo just seemed to get quite a bit about me as a person, and there were very few people in the world who knew the real Mallorie. Many people thought they knew Allie Witt, and maybe they did in a way. But Allie, pop superstar, was not the same as Mallorie. And who I was with my fans was not who I was with the people I loved.

“I want to change that,” he said, his voice low. The effect went straight to my gut and below. I bit my lip, imagining that big hand touching me. This was not the time, nor was I going to go there. Baby steps. Less than baby steps. Baby crawls.

“Okay,” I said.

“Okay?” I couldn’t help but hear the hope in his voice, and I shivered again. That voice made me weak in the knees.

“I’ll call you tomorrow,” I said. “I have another show, but I’ll call you after like I did tonight. Maybe we can—” I paused, my bravery wavering. Give me a sold-out stadium and I’ll rock the confidence all the way. Give me a handsome man breaking through my exterior? Instant insecurity. But I needed to change that, and now was as good a time as any.

“Can what?” Theo prodded, his voice making me bite my lip in response.

“Maybe we can FaceTime?” I closed my eyes, my stomach flipping while I waited for his response.

“I would love to see you again,” he said, and my stomach clenched. “We fly out tomorrow afternoon, so I’ll be free after your show for sure. I look forward to it.”

“Get some rest,” I said, not wanting to hang up but also needing to process all this, preferably by screaming and running around.

“You too, beautiful,” he said. “Good night, Mallie. Thank you for calling me.”

When the line went dead, I held my phone with the stupidest grin on my face. When was the last time I felt that way about just having a first conversation with someone? I texted Bailey to call me ASAP and then lay back on the bed. I pulled the pillow over my face and screamed into it, kicking my legs. I didn’t even care that I needed to rest my voice or not strain my vocal cords. I just had a whole conversation with Teddy and he wants to keep talking to me .

Theo freaking Nolan. Teddy . The hot-as-hell professional football player who saved me from certain embarrassment on the worst day of my life just told me he liked me and wanted to keep talking to me. The guy who could literally get anyone he wanted. Yes, I was spiraling.

When my phone dinged, I assumed it was Bailey responding. But a grin the size of Texas spread on my face when I saw that it was actually Theo.

I want you to know that you made my whole day. Thank you for reaching out. Sweet dreams, Mallie. Talk to you tomorrow. Xoxo.

I put the phone to my chest, my heart pounding like I just ran across the stage. I squealed again, wishing Bailey was here. Had any guy ever put things out there quite as directly as Teddy did? I didn’t think so. He said he didn’t play games, and I liked it.

I started and stopped five texts in response and settled on Thank you, Teddy. You’re so sweet. It was great to talk to you. Talk to you tomorrow. Sweet dreams. I wanted to say much more and talk to him for hours, but I was still hesitant. Experience had taught me that.

“Allie. I am so damn jealous right now.” Bailey lay back on her bed, her face filling the screen. “I need you to hook me up with a friend of his. Right now.”

I laughed, my phone propped up in front of me as my team worked on my hair and makeup. “You are getting way ahead of yourself.”

“No she’s not!” My mom called from across the room, not looking up from the romance novel in her hand. “I’m with you, Bailey! This man is something else!”

I shook my head. “You two are killing me.”

“Tell me that you aren’t swooning so hard, Al. There’s no damn way.”

I grinned and wiggled in my chair. “Okay, I may or may not have had a really hard time falling asleep last night. I wished for you to talk me off the ledge. I wrote two pages of possible lyrics and a melody.”

Bailey laughed. “Of course you did. You wouldn’t be Allie Witt if one interaction didn’t inspire an entire album.”

“Not an entire album,” I said. “Yet. You know I’ve always got a book of lyrics.”

Bailey shook her head. “Also, no way am I going to be the one to talk you off any ledge when it comes to Theo Nolan. Had I been able to talk to you last night, I definitely would not have calmed you down. This is huge. So you made plans to talk tonight?”

“Yeah. We’re actually going to FaceTime tonight after my show. We’ve texted a little bit today, too. He’s traveling to a game.”

“Who initiated?”

“The texts? He texted me first this morning and said ‘good morning, beautiful’ and to kick ass like the superstar I am.”

“ALLLLLIEEEEE. I’m dying.” She covered her face with her hand and groaned. “Please tell me you’re going to see him.”

I laughed. “See him? Other than on FaceTime? I’d like to know when.” It wasn’t that I hadn’t thought of it, but our schedules were impossible. And also, I was scared to voice that to him just yet. It felt ... soon. I needed us to talk a bit more first.

“Girl. You have a private jet. Two of them, to be exact. You could be anywhere he is in a matter of hours.”

“Facts!” my mom called again from across the room. I turned and caught her gaze, and she lifted her hand like, What? I apologized to my poor team just trying to get me ready for the show and told myself to sit still.

“Let’s slow down a bit,” I said. “I don’t even have a break for another month to even think about seeing him, and I have no idea what his schedule is like.”

Bailey sighed like I pained her. “I expect an update later. I have to run. Love you, Al.”

“Love you,” I echoed as her face left the screen. I caught my reflection in the mirror, the fog of product keeping my hair looking good clouding the mirror. As it cleared, I looked at myself and thought about the girl who once dreamed of being right here, right now. Sometimes I still couldn’t believe this was the life I led—that I got the chance to not just do what I loved but be successful beyond my wildest dreams.

The toddler who used anything as a microphone to sing to anyone who would listen. The young girl who spent so many hours practicing the guitar and piano. The preteen who filled notebooks full of song lyrics. The young teenager who went to every possible open-mic night to get noticed. And then, the sixteen-year-old who released her first record all looked back at me. I never got tired of it—not really.

Some days, it was hard. Doing this for the last thirteen years professionally was the highlight of my life. But sometimes, the day-to-day things that kept this Allie Witt show running exhausted me. However, at the end of each day, at the end of each performance, recording session, or album release, I never took it for granted. As the press liked to remind me, I wasn’t “young” as a pop star anymore, so every year I got was a gift I did not take for granted. My favorite part was touring, despite how exhausting it was. Seeing the faces of my fans, whom I dreamed of having my entire life, screaming lyrics back at me invigorated me and kept me going.

“All done!” I grinned and said my thanks as I stood from the chair to get dressed and go rock the stadium. I picked up the lioness that we named Adira after a brief text conversation earlier—since it meant fierce—safe next to my travel bag and held it close to me. I thought of Theo’s sweet texts, his sexy voice, and the words he used to soothe my anxiety so well.

“What am I doing?” I asked the stuffed Adira. The butterflies in my stomach had nothing to do with the sold-out crowd filtering into the stadium and everything to do with a certain man who sent me this stuffed animal and told me he wanted to talk to me again.

My phone dinged inside my bag and I picked it up just as Zoey opened the door to get me.

I know you’re about to go on. Have so much fun with the people who love you, Mallie. I cannot wait to talk to you later. Thinking of you. Good luck. Not that you need it since you’re the most talented person I’ve ever seen.

I grinned and clutched the phone to my chest. Good luck to you, too, not that you need it either, Mr. Star Running Back first draft pick (look, I can google too!). I’m getting ready to go out and was just talking to Adira. I like the name. I sent it before I could second-guess myself and then put my phone and the stuffed animal inside my bag.

“Let’s do this,” I said to Zoey. I slipped on my boots, took one last glance in the mirror, and forced Theo’s handsome face into the back of my mind. I had a job to do.

I looked out at the crowd, my chest heaving after dancing and singing through my first set. The sold-out crowd screamed as my face filled the screens around the stadium.

I smoothed the curls out of my face from my last song and grinned at them. I looked from side to side, from top to bottom, memorizing the feeling of all these people here to sing with me. I knew this wouldn’t be forever, and there was nothing like this feeling. No matter how many times I did it, I still soaked it all in. If ever I forgot the dream I had to be here, that would be my last day. One of the dancers handed me my guitar, my favorite one, and then stepped back into the shadows. I put the guitar strap over my head and strummed a few chords.

“Why hello!” I yelled into the microphone, sending the crowd into another frenzy. “It is so great to see you all again! How many of you have seen me in concert before?”

The deafening shrieks told me what I knew—most of them were my lifelong fans. I loved that I grew up with many of these people here, but some of them were my mom’s age or older. “And for how many of you is this your first Allie Witt concert?”

I grinned at the shouts and started strumming the guitar again. “Well, welcome to the Lovestruck tour!” I drew a heart in the air, my signature for this tour, and the crowd did it back. “I thought we’d spend a little time just us, is that okay?” This was my favorite part of the show, the part where I just played my guitar or the piano and sang. While the huge production of my shows was incredible, my heart was this right here, where I’d started back in my bedroom as a child.

I began the first chords and closed my eyes as the melody overtook me. I sang, my voice reverberating around the huge stadium. I remembered the many nights singing by myself, hoping one day for what I have right now. When I was up here, nothing else mattered. Not what happened years ago or even minutes before the show. This was my happy place. When I finished, I made eye contact with someone a few rows back and threw my guitar pick at them. I smiled and waved when they caught it and jumped up and down, screaming my name.

The night passed in a blur as I played through my set list, as they seemed to do. I spent so much time prior to my tour rehearsing that doing it was second nature now. I didn’t believe in being too prepared—I had been that way my entire career. There was no one in the room who was going to work harder than me.

“Please give it up for my amazing dancers, backup singers, and band! I could not do it without them and the many, many, many people that work behind the scenes!” I screamed into the microphone. The crowd erupted. I caught the eye of several fans in the front rows and blew them kisses. “Thank you so much for coming out tonight. Remember to always stay lovestruck!” I drew a heart in the air again, and the floor I stood on began lowering under the stage. I waved until I was out of sight.

I stepped off the lift, and Conor stood there with a bottle of water. I took it gratefully. “Thank you.”

“You killed it as usual,” Conor said, pulling me to him in a hug. He didn’t even care that I was covered in sweat and probably didn’t smell good—this was our routine. We had been mistaken for siblings most of our lives, and dare I say, we were even closer than siblings.

Conor was two years younger than me, and we had the same blond curly hair and blue eyes. We’d been best friends since the day two-year-old me held newborn Conor in my arms. When I started playing music at the young age of seven, Conor was the first person I played for. He still was. When I got a record deal and put out my debut album, Conor was part of all of it. After he graduated from college at twenty years old—add genius to Conor’s résumé—he worked for me full-time ever since.

“Thanks!” I pulled back from him, and we walked arm in arm toward my dressing room. I waved to everyone as I passed. “Where’s Mom?” To this point in my life, my mom had never—not ever—missed a show of mine. No matter what country I was in, she was the anchor in my life.

“Already in your dressing room,” he said. “She got a phone call. I think it’s my mom.” Aunt Tiffany did not travel as much with us, but she ran our operations from our home base in Florida. Two years younger than my mom, they were extremely close and always had been.

When we stepped into the dressing room, I waved at my mom, who was still on the phone. She blew me a kiss and mouthed. Great job, sweetie, like she always did. And instead of going directly to take my costume off and shower and change, I went right for my bag and retrieved my phone.

I couldn’t help the grin that broke across my face when I saw Teddy’s name. A multitude of texts from the last three hours showed on the screen. I unlocked the phone and opened the text conversation between us.

I found a live stream of someone in the front row and they are losing their shit at being that close to you. I get it, I think I would, too. He is so funny, he’s screaming “yasssss bitch” anytime you do something amazing, which is basically the entire show. Girl, you look smokin’ hot. I wish I was there. You just waved at him and I think he may die. He just said, RIP me.

I giggled at the message. I loved fans like that, and I wished I knew which fan it was. I tried to see their faces when I could, so the ones right up front were the easiest to watch.

Just you and the guitar is a sight to see. You are SO talented.

Oh and now the piano? You deserve every single award you have received and all the ones you haven’t. They should just name an award after you at this point.

I hope I’m not annoying you with all of these messages. I just can’t seem to stop. The way you have this HUGE audience just eating out of your palm? Unbelievable. These people on the live stream are losing their minds. I’ve never seen anything like this. There are a hundred thousand people watching this livestream! That is ridiculously cool. Did you know that many people tune in to these shows?

I’m still in awe that you can do this for this many hours and make it look so easy. I think we need to talk about your workout routine because I may need to do it.

I know I saw this in person, but this was before I knew you. I just want you to know how impressed I am by you. I can’t wait to see this from a closer vantage point.

Amazing show. You’re a beautiful person, inside and out. The way you make sure to thank everyone who works behind the scenes? One of a kind. I can’t wait to talk to you tonight.

I read and reread the messages for long enough that Conor walked up to see what caught my attention. He read over my shoulder, and I could hear the noises in his throat increasing as he read.

“Mallorie.” Our gazes met and I nodded.

“I know.”

“This man has it bad,” Conor said.

“We’re just talking,” I said, but I wasn’t even sure I believed that at this point. It was ridiculously early, but something just felt—different about him. I shut up the cynic that immediately put negative thoughts in my head.

“ You may just be talking,” he said, packing up the things in the dressing room. “But he isn’t. As a man, trust me. I don’t think I’ve ever liked a woman enough to put myself out there like that, much less to someone of your status.”

I scoffed. “I’m just a woman like anyone else,” I said.

Conor turned his body to me. “Mallorie. You may be a woman looking for the same things as every other woman, but you are not a woman like anyone else. You are Allie Witt, the global superstar who has broken more records and gotten more awards than anyone else in history. You are on a short list of the richest—and most powerful—women in the world. You use your platform to influence others in the best ways. That is intimidating to most guys. I think it was intimidating to Josiah, too. You know that who you are is part of the issue you’ve had with relationships. It’s sure as shit not your heart. You’re the best person I know.”

“You say that because you love me,” I said, but my heart swelled at his words.

“No,” he said. “Theo isn’t intimidated by you because he’s the best at his very public job, too. I mean, he’s nowhere near the level of you, but he gets it more than anyone else you’ve ever been with.”

“I’m not with him,” I argued. My heart squeezed at the thought of dating someone again. I couldn’t do it. Not yet, and maybe not ever. I wanted it—God knew I did. I wrote enough songs about the pursuit of love and the aftereffects of its demise—but it seemed impossible at this point to find my endgame.

My mom hung up the phone and walked toward us. “What’s this about?”

“Theo Nolan,” Conor said. Her eyes widened.

“What about him now?”

“They’re talking,” Conor answered before I could say anything.

The look on my mom’s face was reminiscent of her look after my first Grammy nomination. “ Talking talking?”

“No,” I said at the same time Conor said, “Yes.”

She nodded like she completely understood. “It’s about time.”