Lovestruck

1. Allie

CHAPTER 1

Allie

July

“Please don’t do this,” I sobbed, bending over at the waist to try to stop the pain that took the breath from my lungs. My knees hit the hard stage beneath me and the phone clattered to the ground, but I still heard his voice as it echoed through the empty stadium. His words were distorted enough for me to pretend I couldn’t clearly hear what was coming from the speaker.

Workers milled around, checking the stage and seating, but none of them paid attention to my world crumbling. The backing music still played throughout the stadium, sheltering the sounds of me on the stage, listening to my world fall apart. It wasn’t often in my life I felt completely alone, but at this moment I was nothing more than a single ant in an anthill. When my phone rang just minutes ago, I’d sent the dancers backstage to rest until the show.

“Allie. Baby.” His soft voice just made me sob harder. I had heard that tone so many times in our relationship. It calmed me and set my head back on my shoulders. But not this time. This time, he used it to crush my soul. I attempted to take a deep breath, knowing at any moment someone would hear the racket I made and come out here, and I couldn’t be seen like this. But all that came out of my mouth was a strangled, animalistic moan.

“P-please,” I managed to say again, rocking back and forth on my knees. “Not like this.” I picked up the phone and sat back, my backside hitting the stage. I wiped the tears from my eyes and gulped in oxygen. I felt like I might be sick.

“You won’t be back for weeks, and you’ll be on this tour for over a year. I haven’t spent more than a few hours with you in months. It’s over, Allie. I’m sorry. I just can’t do this with you anymore. I want more out of life than waiting for you to decide I’m a priority.” His soft voice delivered the dagger I would’ve never thought he’d send through my gut.

I’m on tour, I wanted to scream. How can you do this to me? We’ve been together for five years! You said we were forever! We are supposed to be getting engaged! Starting our life! I opened and closed my mouth, but no words would come. He was really doing this to me. The love of my life. The one I thought was going to be the father to my children. He was abandoning me over the phone while I was hours away from the first show of my most successful international tour to date. Because I didn’t make him a priority ? Since when?

“Josiah,” I sobbed. “I love you. You said you loved me, that I was the love of your life. Five years and you’re just going to throw it away? After everything? Whatever it is, we can work it out. You know you are always a priority to me.”

“Allie,” he said again. “I will always love you. It’s just not enough. I met someone. She has a normal life. I’m so sorry.”

I shook my head, wishing my phone hadn’t been in my pocket during rehearsal and I could continue living the delusion that my life wasn’t imploding. He met someone else—with a normal life. Those words reverberated through me and settled like a boulder in my gut. What he meant was I wasn’t enough. This life I led. Who I was, I wasn’t worth it. I’ve heard this lyric a time or two. Normal. What did that make me?

“I’ll have my stuff moved out before you get back,” he continued, like my heart and soul weren’t fractured into pieces beneath me. I stood, my legs moving without me realizing I was headed off the stage. I needed to get to the dressing room so I could continue this meltdown away from anyone who could record it and put it all over social media. All it would take was one of these workers with a cell phone and it would be the next viral story. I met someone . She has a normal life. The words roared in my ears. Did I know her? Who was she? How long had this been going on? How stupid was I to not see this coming?

I gripped the phone in my hand. I wanted to ask all the questions, but I couldn’t make my mouth work. Josiah was speaking, but I couldn’t hear it anymore. Tears blurred my vision and I gulped, bile threatening again. No one could see me like this. I couldn’t admit to anyone that Josiah dumped me. Had we been fighting more than usual? Sure. But didn’t all couples? I didn’t think it was that egregious. Had I practically begged for a ring for the last three years? Also yes, but Josiah always had a good reason to wait. Mainly my career. He was a successful entertainment lawyer and his life didn’t resemble mine one little bit, but that was what worked for us. Had worked. No longer worked, apparently.

I stumbled down the cavernous hall toward my dressing room, which was the visitor locker room for the football games played here. My sobs echoed off the walls, which only made me cry harder. Thankfully, it was blissfully empty, so I didn’t have to explain myself to anyone mulling around. I was rarely alone this long—it was a miracle. Guess my team was busy enough and figured I was safe inside the empty stadium, surrounded by security.

“Allie?” a voice finally broke through my panic. I looked down at my phone, realizing Josiah was still there. I turned the corner to enter the final hallway before I’d reach the locker room area, and that was when I hit a brick wall and my phone went flying out of my hand, clattering to the floor somewhere out of reach.

Before I could recognize what was happening, strong hands gripped my arms and kept me from falling. I gasped, my tear-filled eyes unable to see who held me.

“Hey there,” the deep male voice said, and I knew instantly it was no one from my team. Fear gripped my stomach, overtaking the grief from moments before. In my world, an unfamiliar voice equaled danger. I blinked, attempting to step back away from the stranger. My tears cleared as fear took over my sadness, and my eyes widened.

In my tennis shoes I wore for rehearsal, this man loomed over me by at least six inches, and I was not a short girl. My eyes scanned his short dark hair, his neatly trimmed facial hair, concerned blue eyes looking down at me, and ... holy shit. This man was the finest guy I’d ever seen.

Dressed in a pair of loose-fitting gym shorts and a T-shirt, he smelled like he just got out of the shower. Muscles bulged in places I’d never seen up close. This guy could throw me over his shoulder and take me away. With that thought, I stepped back out of his reach, forcing myself to remember that I didn’t know this guy and I may not be safe. My mind reeled with ways to escape.

“You okay?” His eyes crinkled with concern, and I once again found myself staring into them. They reminded me of the water at my favorite beach. I shook my head, ridding myself of noticing anyone’s ocean-blue eyes.

“F-fine,” I said, finding my voice. I looked around for my lost phone, hoping I could get to safety if this guy had ill intentions. Why are you so stupid? You know you shouldn’t be alone . Those damn eyes scanned me again, scrutinizing my face like he could look right through me.

He stepped back and spotted my phone. I watched, rooted to the floor, as he picked it up and returned it to me. He looked down at the photo on my lock screen and then back to me. He gave me a smirk I could only describe as panty melting before putting the phone in my hand. The impact of my phone falling must’ve disconnected Josiah. What a shame.

“That the guy you’re crying over?”

I sniffled on cue, and tears filled my eyes again. Shit. I needed to get away from this guy. I turned to walk away, but he reached his hand out to stop me. When his giant hand made contact with my forearm, simultaneously gentle and scorching, I gasped. Our eyes met and a smile played on his lips, like he knew exactly what I felt when he touched me. He was probably used to women falling at his feet. But this woman wasn’t going to. I was done with men. All they did was lie to me and cause me heartbreak. I pulled my arm back, refusing to register anything having to do with my reaction to this guy.

“Seriously, are you okay?” His voice felt like velvet caressing my skin. “Allie, right?”

I shoved the phone into the pocket of my yoga pants and tried to stop the tears from dripping from my eyes. Dressing room. Now. I had less than an hour to get my shit together before hair and makeup would be here to transform me into pop princess Allie Witt, Global Superstar. I needed Bailey. She could talk me down. And this guy knew who I was, and I still had no idea who he was.

“I-I have to go,” I said, stepping around him. “Thank you.”

“Let me walk you to your dressing room,” he said, holding out his arm. “You’re using the visitor locker room, right?”

I looked around, alarm bells still ringing in my head.

“Hey,” he said.

My gaze snapped back to his handsome face.

“I’m not going to hurt you.”

A sharp laugh escaped my lips. “That’s what someone says when they—they ...” I couldn’t continue because a fresh wave of grief gripped me and I began sobbing again. His promise to not hurt me reminded me of Josiah when we first met. The Josiah who just ended our five-year relationship with a phone call while he was in our home that I paid for with our shared dog that I picked out. The nameless handsome stranger took my hand in his, and I pointed in the direction of my dressing room. I let him lead me there, sobs racking my body so violently I thought I may actually throw up this time. His large, warm hand surrounding mine kept me upright as we approached the dressing room.

He opened the door and I stepped in. He guided me with his hand lightly on my back to the couch against the wall. I sat and dropped my head into my hands. Seconds later, a water bottle appeared in front of me.

“Drink,” he said, that voice sending a shiver down my spine. I took it without looking at him and gulped the water. He handed me some tissues from the table next to the couch and I wiped my eyes and nose, but it didn’t stop the steady stream. I couldn’t make it stop. When I finally took deep breaths and the tears subsided enough for me to breathe normally, I realized this huge hulk of a man was rubbing my back, his fingers filtering through my ponytail.

“Can I call someone for you?” I closed my eyes at the concern in his voice. I shouldn’t be sitting next to him, allowing him in my space, but I couldn’t find it in me to make him leave.

I turned my swollen eyes up to him. “No. Thank you for helping me, but you can go. I’m sorry. I’m sure all you wanted was a crying female to deal with today.”

He smiled, and I almost groaned. Dimples. Of course he freaking had dimples.

“There are worse things I could be doing.” He dropped his hand from my back and tucked a stray piece of hair behind my ear. I fought not to shiver. Why did a touch from a stranger feel so ... good?

“Do you want to talk about it? I’ve been told I’m a good listener.”

I opened my mouth to tell him no because I was trained to not tell your personal business to anyone if you don’t want it all over the internet. I sure learned that one the hard way. More than one time. But he had no phone or recording device that I could see, and I found myself turning my body to face him. What was the worst that could happen? He sold the story to a pap without any pictures or any evidence we’d talked at all? Those stories were a dime a dozen.

His arm rested on the back of the couch, a fraction of an inch away from touching me. “You know who I am,” I stated.

“Hard not to,” he responded. “Mainly because you’re kind of plastered everywhere right now—including around the stadium. But also—is there anyone in the world that doesn’t know who you are? But I don’t care one bit to talk to the press, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“Why?”

He smirked, and I tried once again to not notice those adorable freaking dimples that peeked out from behind his short facial hair.. Or the way his muscles rippled under his T-shirt when he moved. Or how he ran his hand through his short hair, making his arm flex. “You do not follow football.”

I laughed, even though it sounded hollow and forced to me. “You could say that.” At this point, I wished I did.

He held his arms out. “This is my stadium. I play for the Blaze.”

I blinked. That made so much sense for why he was in this stadium when I had a show here tonight. And also for his massive size and freshly showered self. I heard the team was in the practice area today, but they were supposed to be long gone by now.

He held out his hand. “Theo. Theo Nolan. Otherwise known to my teammates as T-Bear number twenty-three, short for Teddy Bear, if you couldn’t figure that out.”

I stared at the size of him, remembering those hands holding me steady as I almost catapulted to the floor. I reached my hand out, and the moment we touched, I bit my lip to stop myself from gasping again.

“Allie Witt. Mallorie. I’ve been Allie most of my life, though.” I wasn’t sure what made me say my real name other than it was the opposite of what Josiah called me, and it was the real me. I didn’t want to psychoanalyze that right now.

“Mallorie.” The three syllables of my given name rolled so nicely off his tongue. “That’s a beautiful name for an even more beautiful woman.”

My phone vibrated and I took it from my pocket, seeing a message from Josiah on the screen. I whimpered and Theo took the phone from my hand and put it on the other side of him on the table.

“Josiah?” he said. “That’s his name?”

I nodded, squeezing my hands together so tightly my nails dug into my skin. I was not going to cry again. Apparently he was not worth my effort. No matter what I did, he still didn’t want me.

“We’ve been together for five years. He just ended it. He said there was someone else and he wanted someone who was around more, who had a ‘normal’ life.” My voice broke, and I looked down at my hands as my eyes welled again. “Whatever the hell that means. I guess it means someone who isn’t me.”

Theo lifted my chin with one finger, his eyes staring into mine for several beats. He really did have the prettiest eyes. I bet he heard that all the time. “He just ended your five-year relationship over the phone on the opening night of your tour?”

I nodded, and damn if those tears didn’t spill over again. This time, Theo took a tissue and dabbed my eyes and cheeks, and I refused to allow myself to register his gentle touch. “I’ve been busy preparing for the tour. I-I guess I didn’t pay enough attention to him.” What the fuck was I doing letting this guy in my dressing room and spilling all my secrets to him? I had seriously lost my mind.

“Mallorie.” He paused, seeming to think through his next words before speaking. “I am sorry, but if any man is such a piece of shit that he breaks up with his girl after five years with a phone call on one of the biggest days of her life, that man is a complete and utter douchebag and does not deserve her. And do not put this on yourself. Did the man not know who you were and what you did for a living when he met you?”

“He did,” I said. “He loved who I was at first. I thought we were going to get married. Have kids. N-now I’m alone. Again.” I laughed. “Oh boy, the media is going to have fun with this one. ‘She can’t keep a guy,’ or ‘Another one bites the dust for pop princess Allie Witt.’ Even better are the ones that are like, ‘Oh wait until she annihilates another guy on her next album.’”

Theo blew out a breath. “I am so sorry you’re having to deal with this today. I know how hard it is to compartmentalize and be able to pull off a big performance. Do you want to know what helps me?”

I stared at this man, this stranger who rescued me and helped me, and I realized that I did want to know. He got it. Maybe not exactly in the same realm, but close. He was in the spotlight and had a lot of pressure to perform, no matter what was going on in his life.

Just then, the door opened and in came my publicist, Zoey, followed by my hair, makeup, and wardrobe team. They were early. Figured. Zoey saw my tear-stained, puffy face, and then Theo sitting next to me and stopped in her tracks, her eyes widening in surprise.

“Allie.” My name had many meanings in that tone of voice. Zoey and I had been together since my first album, and she was like a big sister to me.

“Hey, Zoey,” I said. “This is Theo. Theo helped me in the hall when I almost fell.”

Zoey stepped closer to us so the rest of the team wasn’t part of the discussion. She crossed her arms in front of her chest and sized him up. Zoey didn’t play around, and it was one of the things I appreciated the most about her. She always had my best interests at heart.

“Theo Nolan, right?” So apparently she did follow football. Then again, it was her job to know things.

“Yes, ma’am,” he responded, holding out his hand. Zoey shook it, but her eyes were on me. I knew what was about to come out of her mouth.

“Do we need an NDA?” she asked me pointedly. My face flamed at her implication.

Theo held up his hands. “I was never here.”

Zoey looked him up and down. “You weren’t recording anything?”

He turned his pockets inside out. “I don’t have my phone with me. It’s in the locker room.”

I rested my hand on Zoey’s arm to stop her. She was my little bulldog and I loved it, but she was directing her scrutiny to the wrong person. “It’s okay, Zo. He helped me.”

She nodded and her body language relaxed. “Thank you,” she said to him, then turned her gaze to me. “Why were you alone?”

“The guys are making sure the stadium is ready for tonight, and the dancers were finished practicing,” I said. “It’s okay. Really.” I knew that no matter what I said right now, Zoey was going to tear up my security team for not being near enough to me. On one hand, she was right. Theo could’ve been someone with nefarious intentions and I could’ve been long gone by now. But on the other hand, he wasn’t and I was fine. Her argument would be that wasn’t always the case, evidenced by the many stalkers I’d had in my career.

“You do not look okay.” She turned back to Theo. “Thank you for your help. If you will excuse us, Allie has to get ready for tonight.”

Theo met my gaze over Zoey’s head. He didn’t get to tell me how he compartmentalizes, and I actually really wanted to know the answer. Though I have had to fake it until I made it enough. I could do it and I would do it. My fans deserved the Allie that was 100 percent with them, and honestly, when I performed for them, nothing else mattered.

“Thank you,” I echoed to him. He nodded and walked toward the door. I felt Zoey looking at me, no doubt scrutinizing my puffy eyes and blotchy face, but my gaze was on the man walking away.

Before he opened the door, he turned back to me. “Mallorie. How I deal with it? You channel those emotions into putting on the best show of your life. For me, I challenge myself to have the best game to spite whatever is going on. You do the same. Get out there and show those people just who the hell you are, and don’t let him take this experience from you. All of those people that will be out there tonight? They traveled from near and far to see you because of the amazing performer you are. Don’t give him another thought,” he said. “There’s someone out there that will appreciate and love you for exactly who you are. Don’t settle until you find that person. Don’t ever make yourself smaller for another person. Ever again.”

I sucked in a breath and held it, unable to respond other than a small nod. How had I known this person for mere minutes and he hit the nail right on the head? He winked at me and turned away. The door shut behind him, and I turned to meet Zoey’s intent gaze.

“Start talking,” she said.