Chapter Sixteen
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
I f I happened to believe in God, today would be one of those days that had me seriously asking myself what I’d done to anger the big man upstairs.
Ever since I’d left Elena in that bed this morning, it was like the universe was actively trying to keep us apart.
I couldn’t really fault Marin for fainting.
That shit was scary.
When Elena had called to tell me, I had known Macon must be beside himself with worry, which was why this wedding needed to go off without a hitch.
Marin didn’t need any more added stress.
With Elena now tasked with overseeing pre-wedding tasks, I headed over to the inn to help with setup. If I could race through this, I was hoping I could make it back to the rental and steal an hour or two with Elena. But Molly had the longest fucking checklist I’d ever seen, and after a few hours, I thought we’d never finish.
It was a small-town wedding, not a fucking coronation.
But it was also my brother’s small-town wedding, so I put my frustration aside and strung every fairy light, lined up every chair, and set every place setting for the rehearsal dinner.
It was exhausting.
Around late afternoon, I headed to the back lawn, where the ceremony would be, and looked around for Molly—aka the blonde dictator—to see if she needed anything else before I headed out to change.
I found her barreling toward me instead.
“We need to talk,” Molly said, her voice clipped as she grabbed my arm and hauled me toward the house.
Okay…
I knew I wasn’t an expert at stringing lights, but I thought I had done an all right job. Mostly.
She manhandled me through the sliding glass doors and toward the front.
“What the fuck, Molly?” I swore as she came to an abrupt stop.
“I just had a very interesting conversation with the uninvited guests who are now parked outside our front lawn, Zander.”
I looked out the window and found three men huddled together, talking and laughing. Cameras were strung over their shoulders or around their necks.
My eyes widened.
“Shit,” I muttered. “I need to call my manager.”
“You do that.” Her arms were folded across her chest as her fierce gaze fixed on me. “But first you need to explain why you haven’t?—”
“Call your sister,” I told her. “She’ll explain. I need to figure out how this happened.”
She opened her mouth to protest, but I already had my phone out, turning away from her and the window.
“Zander,” Lance answered, sounding on edge. “I was about to call you.”
“Thinking you have some news to tell me.”
“You didn’t keep your head down, kid.”
“What the fuck do you mean?”
He sighed. “Someone got ahold of some photos of you and your brother in a tattoo shop, and they’re making the rounds. Your last name is right there on your damn body, Z.”
My eyes pinched closed. “It must have been one of the staff members.”
Fucking hell.
I stepped into a small parlor and put him on speaker so I could do an internet search and found them with a few clicks. I flipped through each photo, shaking my head in disbelief at how oblivious I’d been that day.
And naive.
We’d chatted openly in that shop, let the artists take photos for their portfolios, fucking tipped them a king’s ransom.
I was so in over my head.
“There are reporters outside,” I told him. “My brother’s rehearsal dinner is tonight.”
The rehearsal was nothing compared to the wedding though. Would they harass every single guest?
What a goddamn nightmare.
“They probably found that information online as well. Did they have a wedding announcement?”
“I have no idea,” I told him as I scrubbed a hand down my face. “What do I do? I need them gone. They’ll ruin his wedding.”
“Well, it’s probably going to get worse,” he said frankly as I started to pace. “Just ignore them for now and let me get in contact with Ridge. In the meantime, tell your family and friends the same thing and, uh, tell your brother congrats for me.”
“Sure.”
He hung up with the promise to get back in touch soon while I stood frozen in the empty parlor. This was not how I wanted to tell them.
I let out a sigh.
Lifting my phone back up, I called Macon.
“Hey!” he greeted me. He sounded light and happy. His fiancée and baby were healthy, and he was getting married tomorrow. Life was good.
I was about to ruin that.
Maybe I should have never come back.
“Hey,” I echoed, although with far less enthusiasm. “I need you guys to come to the inn a bit early. Can you do that?”
“Uh, yeah, sure. Why?”
“This is going to sound crazy, but there are a few reporters outside the inn.”
“What? No way,” he exclaimed. “Why?”
“I’ll explain when you get here, but can you swing by the rental and grab my clothes for the rehearsal dinner?”
“Yeah? You okay?” His enthusiasm was waning.
“Yeah, I just don’t want to go anywhere.”
“Okay, sure.” His voice was now full of doubt. “Marin and Elena are getting ready, but I’m sure I can persuade them to pack up and finish there if it’s that important?” he asked.
“Yeah, that would be great. I don’t want the guys wandering over there.”
“All right,” he agreed. “See you soon.”
“Oh, and, Macon?”
“Yeah?”
“Don’t say anything to them when you get here. No matter what they tell you.”
He didn’t respond, and I wondered if I’d just lost my brother’s trust for good.
In another life, Macon could have been a decent bodyguard.
That being said, having to stand there inside the inn, watching my brother protect his fiancée and the woman I loved from the onslaught of those reporters was excruciating.
My hand fisted the doorknob so hard that I thought it might crack.
His face was a grim line as he used the girls’ garment bags as a makeshift shield. There were only three of them, but, man, they were persistent, huddled around my family like vultures. Marin’s and Elena’s expressions were a mixture of confusion and annoyance.
“I’m going to go tell those fuckers to get off my damn sidewalk.” Jake stormed toward the door. “I’ve seen enough movies to know that paparazzi can’t be on private property, and if they think I’m some country bumpkin?—”
I had to leap back from the door so that I wasn’t seen by the photographers as Jake ran down to meet them. He distracted the three men enough that Macon was able to pick up the pace and get the girls inside quicker.
I wonder if that was his intention all along…
The door swung open, and the three of them walked in, dropping a heap of garment and duffel bags on the floor.
“What the fuck is going on?” my brother boomed, his steely gaze turning to me, reminding me exactly why he was sheriff of this county. “One of those guys just asked me what I thought about my brother becoming the newest member of Manic at Midnight.”
“You didn’t answer him, did you?” I blanched.
His expression hardened. “Of course I didn’t. But you gotta help me out here, Zander, because those fuckers seem to know a hell of a lot more about you than we do.”
I swallowed audibly as my eyes found Elena’s. She was silent. So fucking silent.
Please say something.
But she didn’t. She just kept staring at me.
“Why don’t you all head to the parlor?” Molly suggested, motioning to one of the rooms off to the left.
Where the hell did she come from?
“I’ll have your things brought to the suite you reserved for the weekend. It’s where the family wing used to—never mind. You know that.”
“Thank you, Molly.” Marin gave her an appreciative smile.
We all shuffled into the same blue parlor I’d been pacing in earlier. Molly shut the door on her way out, which gave us some privacy. The curtains had been drawn closed, and several table lamps now gave the room a false sense of darkness. Macon and Marin took a seat on the love seat by the window while Elena took the wingback chair next to them, leaving the large sofa for me.
I tried not to look too much into that and opted to stand instead.
“Where do you want me to start?” I nervously ran my hands through my hair.
“The beginning would be good,” my brother answered harshly.
“Right.” I let out a breath. “Last year, I was asked to tour with Manic at Midnight after they lost their lead guitarist.”
“You mean that horrible guy that?—”
“Let him continue, Marin,” Macon said, taking her hand.
“It was supposed to be temporary—just until they finished the US leg of their tour. All my jobs are like that—or at least they were, and I liked it that way. I never wanted to be in just one band—especially not a famous one. But something just clicked with Manic, and before long, they approached me with the possibility of staying on permanently.”
“Holy shit, Zander,” Macon breathed out.
“I told them I had to think about it,” I explained.
“You had to think about it?” His eyes widened.
“As you can tell from the shitstorm outside, it’s not exactly like accepting a regular job. I had to make sure I was willing to deal with all the madness that came along with it.”
“So, when did you decide?” Marin asked as my gaze fell back on Elena.
Still so quiet.
“Right before I left for the engagement party.”
“And you never told us?” I could hear the pain in my brother’s voice.
“I couldn’t tell you,” I explained as I once again began to pace. “That thing I said at the cookout wasn’t bullshit. I’d signed an NDA. I couldn’t say shit. And it wasn’t like I had planned on sticking around.”
My brother looked away. We’d made amends, but the wounds of our separation were still there. Still fresh.
“So, the tour you’re doing in the fall?” Marin asked tentatively. “That will be with them?”
I nodded. “Their international tour. Six months, fifteen countries.”
“Shit, Zander.” My brother’s voice was filled with awe.
“I thought about telling you guys a dozen times regardless of the consequences. Especially when?—”
I looked over toward Elena.
She immediately looked away.
“Millie knows,” I blurted out.
“Millie?” Marin choked out, and I found Elena silently staring daggers at me. Well, at least that was some sort of reaction. “You told Millie?”
“No,” I answered quickly. “I didn’t tell her. She just figured it out. Apparently, she has a healthy obsession with celebrity gossip and saw an article about me before my manager was able to pull it.”
“Your manager?” My brother looked up at me.
“Well, the band’s manager, but yeah.”
“You mean the same guy who manages Asher Knight? That manager?”
An amused grin fell across my face. “Wouldn’t have pegged you for a Knight Rider, Macon.”
His brows furrowed, and Marin snorted before she whispered, “That’s what they call his fangirls.”
He rolled his eyes, and I laughed.
“I was just trying to point out that even I know who the guy is. This is huge.”
“I know.” I nodded, blowing out a breath.
I looked over at Elena, who still hadn’t said a word. Was she just trying to process it all? Did she hate me?
Could I blame her if she did?
“So, how did all that happen?” Macon pointed toward the front-facing window.
“Pictures of us were leaked from the bachelor party,” I told him. It hadn’t dawned on me until that moment that his photo was also all over the internet—something he definitely hadn’t asked for. “One of those tattoo artists must have recognized me while we were there, and since I used my real name?—”
“You go by a different name?” Marin asked.
“Yeah, Zander Tate. Hendrix’s dad is my manager, and it was something he suggested when I was just starting out, and it turned out to be a good idea—at least for a while.”
Marin was studying her best friend intently and gently patted Macon’s hand. “I think we’re going to give you two some time alone,” she suggested.
“Oh, right,” Macon agreed. “I’m going to go contact everyone that’s coming and give them a heads-up about our unwanted guests.”
Macon gave my shoulder a reassuring squeeze, which did little to lighten my mood because as they left, I found that same quiet version of Elena staring up at me.
I decided to give her time, and so I waited, but when I began to wear a path in the carpet, I couldn’t handle the silence anymore.
“Say something,” I begged, my voice barely a whisper.
Her eyes closed for a moment, betraying her emotions. “I don’t know what to say,” she said. “I feel like I’m looking at a stranger.”
“I’m still me,” I tried to assure her.
She scoffed, rising from her chair to turn her back on me. Her posture was rigid and cold.
“And who would that be exactly? Zander Green or Zander Tate?”
I grimaced at the harshness in her tone.
“You know, I actually tried to look you up once. I wanted to see you perform, but I couldn’t find anything when I searched for your name. I just chalked it up to the life of a session guitarist. Never getting any credit for your work and all that. But that’s not the case, is it?”
“No,” I answered.
“Answer me truthfully.” She turned abruptly, stepping forward. “If there had been no contract and you’d been free to tell anyone you liked, would you have? Would you have come down here and announced to your brother that you were going to be a rock star, or would you have done the same damn thing and kept it to yourself?”
I opened my mouth to answer, but found I couldn’t. A moment passed and then another. “I don’t know.”
I’d once told Hendrix I felt something close to relief at not having to tell them, but at the time, I hadn’t had any choice in the matter. If I had, would I have told them, or would I have held on to this secret a little longer, relishing the normalcy I got here in Ocracoke?
“I can’t deny that this whole thing scares the shit out of me,” I told her. “Spending these last few weeks in Ocracoke has been a special kind of torture. On one hand, coming here has reminded me why I fell in love with music in the first place. I was a broken kid who needed a way to grieve, and Macon gave that to me when he bought that old guitar. But being here also reminds me of everything I’m giving up, and I’m terrified I’ve made the wrong choice.”
She looked up at me, her expression softening. “You didn’t,” she assured me. “Think of all those young kids out there, looking for someone to inspire them. Talent like yours is meant for the main stage.”
I didn’t deserve her kind words, but I’d take them all the same. “I didn’t want you to find out like this,” I told her, taking a hesitant step forward.
Her arms were still drawn tight across her chest. “No? How would you have preferred it then?”
“I don’t know, but I would have at least tried to butter you up first with a lot of sex and a ridiculously expensive handbag.”
“It would have to be at least two ridiculously expensive handbags. You’re incredibly rich now,” she quipped. Her arms fell to her sides. “Please tell me you had a good lawyer look over that contract. They’d better not be fucking you over.”
A grin tugged at the corner of my lips. “Yes. My agent graduated from Harvard Law and is one cutthroat son of a bitch.”
She gave a dismissive shrug. “Duke is better.”
I took another step closer to her, and when she didn’t step away, I reached for her. She came willingly, looking up at me with such deep emotion.
“What are you thinking?” I asked, cupping her cheek.
“I’m thinking that as a woman, I’m really fucking mad at you,” she said as she looked up at me. “But as a lawyer, I understand the complexity of the situation and why you couldn’t tell me. As a music fan though, I’m geeking the fuck out over the fact that you’re going to be a real-life rock star—even if it’s for a band like Manic at Midnight.” Her hands slid around my waist, and it felt like heaven. “What are you thinking?”
“I’m thinking about all the times I thought about telling you and wishing I had,” I said in a low voice. “I’m thinking I’d do just about anything to earn your forgiveness and that it’s been entirely too long since I’ve kissed you?—”
“This morning wasn’t that long ago,” she argued.
“Yeah, but we’re on borrowed time. I’m leaving in a day.”
She froze in my arms. “You are?”
I nodded slowly. “The morning after the wedding. I have a charity concert in New York. It’s when the band is supposed to make the official announcement.”
Her eyes searched mine. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
I brushed a piece of her hair behind her ear. “I knew your focus would be on Marin and the wedding today, and I didn’t want you to feel guilty for that.”
“But that only leaves us with tomorrow night,” she said as she pulled me closer.
“We’re not saying good-bye, Elena,” I assured her. “Nothing has to change.”
“Okay.” Her voice was full of doubt, and I was desperate to erase it.
“But since we are short on time, we should probably take advantage of this empty room,” I suggested, lifting her off the ground. She let out a little yelp, and I scolded her. “You’re gonna have to be a lot quieter than that, Louie.”
Her legs wrapped around my torso as I walked us back toward the wall, which was conveniently located next to the door. I flipped the lock, ensuring our privacy, and then got right to it. My hand fisted her hair as my mouth closed over hers.
I worked the buttons of her shorts as I kissed her deeply, keeping her pinned to the wall with my knee. I knew the moment she grew impatient when her fingers frantically found the fly of my jeans.
I barely got her shorts to her thighs before she had my cock out and I was sliding home.
“Fuck, Elena,” I cursed in her ear.
“I need you.”
I felt those words down to my soul because I didn’t think I’d ever stop needing this woman. She owned me. If you cracked me open, it would be her name you’d find inked on my heart.
I fucked her hard, gripping her ass for leverage as I slammed into her body over and over. I stifled her moans with my hand before replacing it with my mouth.
It felt wild.
It felt desperate.
When her orgasm finally claimed her and I felt her fall apart in my arms, I had no choice but to follow.
When it came to Elena Mendez, I realized I’d never had a choice.
From the moment I’d walked in that bar, I had been hers.
“Come on tour with me,” I said, my breathing still labored from our lovemaking.
We quickly adjusted our clothing, but I kept her pinned to that wall.
“What?” Her hands pressed into my chest as she stared into my eyes.
“Leave with me on Sunday. I want you there with me for my first concert. For every concert, Elena.”
She swallowed, and I could see a myriad of emotions in her reaction.
“I can’t just leave,” she said. “I have a whole life, a job?—”
“That you hate,” I reminded her. “You could start over. Pick a different career, write a book, or, hell, do nothing at all.”
She flinched. “I can’t just be your groupie for the rest of my life, Zander.”
“That’s not…” I was screwing this up, and I could already feel her retreating. “I just meant that you could have the freedom to do and explore whatever you wanted.”
“And if we don’t work out?”
“What?”
“It’s a logical question, Zander. We’ve only known each other for three weeks, and you’re asking me to give up everything for you.”
I took a step back, feeling the loss of her touch instantly. “No, I’m asking you to make a life with me. There’s a difference. It shouldn’t feel like a sacrifice if it’s right. Elena, I?—”
The sound of knuckles rapping against the other side of the door interrupted me.
“Elena?” It was Molly. “Guests are starting to arrive, and Marin isn’t ready yet.”
She looked at me, and I merely nodded.
“I’ll be right out.” She stepped out of my grasp and flipped the lock. “We can talk later,” she assured me.
There was something so final when she walked out that door, and it took less than an hour to find out why.
When Lance had warned that things would only get worse, he’d proven why he was a damn good manager.
The large red door to the inn swung open as Billy and Eli stepped inside, looking like two opposite ends of a spectrum. Billy had dressed up a nice pair of dark jeans with a black button-down and boots while his husband looked like a sixth member of The Fab Five. His tan suit, black fitted T-shirt, and loafers no doubt cost more than my mortgage.
“Jesus, what a madhouse!” Billy exclaimed.
“I thought I’d left this bullshit in New York,” Eli said, running a hand through his neatly trimmed hair.
“Sorry, guys.” I grabbed the back of my neck, feeling helpless as the rest of the wedding party and several of Marin’s family members tried to get through.
Jake had managed to get the reporters off inn property, but unfortunately for many of the wedding party, the parking lot was now full, thanks to the inn being at capacity, and they were having to park on the street, which was fair game.
Oh, and we had two more—for a total of five. Five fucking assholes with cameras, all because some other asshole had decided to post a picture of me.
I am not worth all this, I promise.
“Man, it’s all good.” Eli shrugged, giving me a big smile. “But do you mind if we get your picture?”
I rolled my eyes as the two men laughed.
“What? I heard they’re going for a pretty penny online, and that bachelor party wasn’t cheap.” His expression changed as if he realized what he’d said. “Sorry about that, by the way. I guess those douchebags kind of sold you out.”
“Not your fault,” I began to tell him, but then I was interrupted by my cell phone.
“Sorry,” I said to the guys. “I gotta take this.”
They waved me off, and I ducked into a hallway to answer.
“Lance,” I greeted him. “Tell me you’ve got good news for me.”
If he was calling me instead of the band’s manager, I had a feeling it was the opposite of good.
“Define good,” he said, causing me to groan. “Look, I have a solution, but you’re not going to like it.”
“Just tell me.”
“You told me you wanted these guys gone, right?”
“Yeah,” I confirmed.
“Look, the only way they’re gonna go is if you go, Z.”
“But I’m not leaving until?—”
“I know that’s when you were planning on leaving, but if you stay, they stay. You’re big fucking news right now—not like Taylor has a new boyfriend big, but close.”
“Thanks for that comparison.”
“Just keeping you humble.” He laughed. “But seriously, I told you this shit was gonna be crazy, and with you being unknown, everyone’s dying to get the scoop. Those guys outside won’t stop until they get it.”
I stared at the pale beige wall in front of me. “What are you saying?”
“I checked the ferry schedule. You have two options. You can leave tomorrow. That will give you a little more time to spend with your family tonight, but you run the risk of more of those guys showing up on your brother’s big day.”
“Or?”
“Or you can catch the last ferry tonight with the promise that you’ll give interviews to anyone who follows you out of town. This will get them out of town the fastest. Also, you will most likely be photographed on your way to New York, thus stopping anyone from heading to Ocracoke.”
“You want me to talk to these guys?” My voice rose, and I tried to check myself.
“We’ve got to control the narrative here, Z, and that’s only going to happen if you get ahead of these reporters. If you don’t, they’re gonna dig up every damn thing they can about you and spin it however they want. At least if you’re the one talking, you can decide how the story is told.”
“And the band is okay with this? Ridge?”
“We’re going to act as though any and all articles posted about you were our idea and continue with the charity concert announcement as planned.”
“But that’s?—”
“The band is good, Z. Asher, Ridge—all of them get it. This shit happens. It won’t be the first time.”
I looked back down the hall toward the group gathered there. I could hear the laughter. The joy. The anticipation.
If I left now, I’d miss one of the most important days of my brother’s life.
But if I didn’t, my presence would most likely ruin it.
Fuck.
“Okay,” I agreed. “I’ll go tonight.”
“I’ll book your flight and hotel.” Silence filled the air. “You’re doing the right thing,” he assured me.
Then, why does it feel so wrong?
“Are you going to tell them?”
He knew me so well.
“No,” I answered, turning my back on the people I loved. “If I do, they’ll just try and change my mind. I’ll go through with the rehearsal and then slip out after.”
“And Elena?”
I opened my mouth, but before I could ask, he said, “Hendrix told me.”
Fucking nark.
“I don’t know,” I answered, thinking of those frantic moments in the parlor when I’d asked her to go away with me. I’d been so hopeful. So sure it was the right thing. But the look in her eyes gave me doubt, and now, I couldn’t help but wonder. “Things between us right now are…tense. Maybe leaving is the best thing I can do for her.”
“Leaving is never the best choice, kid. Believe me.”
We talked for a few more minutes, going over logistics, and he gave me a few pointers on talking to the press. Then, we hung up.
When I headed back into the main room, I found Elena with my brother and Marin.
Macon greeted me with a lazy smile. “There you are.”
“Sorry, had to take a call from my manager.”
“Were they able to offer any help on our situation outside?”
I went to stand next to her, but kept my hands to my sides.
Not an hour ago, I’d been inside her, and now, I wasn’t even sure if she’d welcome my touch.
“Uh, not really,” I lied. “He just said to keep ignoring them.”
They both nodded, and I could see Marin trying to hide the worry in her eyes.
Before I could say anything more, the blonde dictator announced it was time to start with the rehearsal part of the evening.
Everyone headed out to the lawn, and I couldn’t help but smile when I saw Marin and Macon take it all in—from the twinkling lights to the beautiful arch that framed the bay.
It was going to be a beautiful wedding.
I’d make sure of it.
The wedding party headed toward the front while the close relatives took seats to watch.
The next several minutes were spent going over the order of events. There was a lot of pointing, and by the time it was all over, everyone seemed to know what to do.
“Okay, let’s do a run-through!” Molly shouted, and we all scattered across the lawn until she was happy with our positions.
Music started, and soon, the wedding party was headed down the aisle. Eli escorted Millie. Billy escorted Molly, and then I stepped up and took Elena’s hand.
I told her this wasn’t the end, but as I escorted her down that aisle, I couldn’t help but feel like I was saying good-bye to her.
And she didn’t even know.
She glanced over at me and smiled, and a small piece of my heart shattered.
Would she understand why I left, or would it feel like a betrayal?
It didn’t matter because as I watched Marin walk toward Macon, I knew I’d do anything to make them happy.
Even if it meant that I wasn’t.