Chapter 18

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Adam

Behind me, the heavy wooden door of the Stonebrook Farm farmhouse swings open, and Freddie, Leo, and Jace file out, spreading out across the porch.

Leo sits down on the steps beside me and hands me a bottle of water while Jace and Freddie take the rocking chairs on either side of the door.

We just spent two hours working through "Curves Like That," relearning the choreography. It's our most dance-heavy song, with a series of moves fans will expect to see in the show. Fortunately, Jace still knew it all—he was always the best dancer out of the four of us—and took us through it, filling in the gaps when the rest of us couldn't remember.

We were never NSYNC level dancers, which suited me just fine. I could always follow the choreography, but I wasn't out front like Jace and was just as happy standing still at a microphone letting my voice do all the work.

"How are you feeling?" Leo says, glancing over .

I take a swig of water. "Out of practice," I say.

"It's all right, man," Jace says. "We never held the dancing bar very high for you."

Freddie chuckles, and I turn to face him. "What are you guys doing out here, anyway?"

We're all on break, but I'm waiting for Laney, and it might be overwhelming for her to see all four of us sitting here like a welcome committee.

I still can't believe she's coming.

When I asked her, it was more of a pipe dream. I didn't think she'd actually be able to make it work, but now she's almost here, and I can't wait to see her.

And I'd rather not have our hello after more than a week apart be witnessed by the rest of the guys.

"You looked lonely," Leo says.

"I just followed Leo," Jace says.

"What are you doing out here?" Freddie asks.

I look at him over my shoulder and rub a hand through my hair. "I'm waiting for Laney."

"How come we had to rehearse somewhere close enough for Adam's girlfriend to visit, but not mine?" Leo says.

"Do you even have a girlfriend?" Jace asks.

Leo frowns. "That's not the point. If I did , she wouldn't live in North Carolina."

"Girlfriends or wives or fiancées were not factored into the decision," Freddie says. "This place belongs to Flint's family. I told him we needed somewhere remote and private, he suggested we use it, it was available, end of story."

"Flint, is it?" Leo says on a laugh. "You're on a first-name basis now? It's fine, Freddie. We know you're the biggest star. You don't have to name-drop A-list actors to impress us. "

Freddie rolls his eyes. "He's a legit friend. I'm not just name dropping."

"I'm not sure I believe you," Jace deadpans. "But let me just call up my bestie Beyoncé real quick and see if she knows Flint Hawthorne."

There's an aspect of our conversation that feels familiar, but it doesn't have anything to do with the words anyone is saying. It's more the vibe. The fact that for three years, we were together every single day. We talked about everything. Teased each other. Bickered and complained and annoyed each other. But we also cared for and supported each other.

I did not expect to fall back into this so easily. I expected awkwardness, maybe even judgment. I at least expected Leo and Jace to demand an explanation as good as the one I gave Freddie.

But we haven't talked about how things ended. We just started back up like it never did.

It could be Freddie's doing. I can easily imagine him convincing the other guys to go easy on me if only to keep me around long enough for the concert to actually happen. Kevin made it clear I was the holdout. If they all think I'm a flight risk, it makes sense they would tread lightly.

Or maybe I'm not giving any of these guys enough credit.

I pull out my phone, checking for the millionth time to see if Laney has texted with an updated ETA. There's nothing there from Laney, but I do have a text from Sarah.

And it's one that makes dread pool in my gut.

Sarah

Oh, hi. You're on the internet.

After her text, she sends a link to a TMZ article with a headline that reads: Inside source reveals: Deke Driscoll is alive, well, and getting married.

Freaking Kevin Spellman.

I quickly scan the article. It basically says nothing. It doesn't mention Laney by name or give any significant information. It just rehashes the headline three different ways. I turn and toss the phone to Freddie.

"Check out what your asshole agent just did," I say.

Freddie catches it and looks over the article. "Well, at least he didn't share her name."

Before I can respond, Freddie's assistant, Ivy, comes barreling out the front door. She looks at the phone in Freddie's hand. "Ohhh, so you've already seen it. I was just coming to show you."

Freddie hands my phone back to me. "Do you think this was Kevin?" he asks Ivy.

"Absolutely yes," she says. "We aren't ready to announce the concert yet, but that doesn't mean he can't get people talking about Midnight Rush. And what better way to do that than stir up interest in the one member of the band who fell off the map? Deke will get people talking again. Generate excitement. Then right when the fervor is at its peak? Concert news drops. It's a pretty genius plan. I mean, evil genius, because Kevin. But still. I recognize his strategy."

I scoff. "Great. So happy my personal life could serve such a valuable purpose."

"Welcome back to showbiz," Jace says. "You know that's how it always is."

"Sure. But that's not how it is for me." I pause, debating whether I should just come clean. I'd rather not be lying to Leo and Jace, especially since Freddie already knows. "I'm not even really engaged," I say .

"You're not?" Leo asks. "Kevin said you were."

"Because I told Kevin I was. But I was lying to try to get him off my back. I didn't think he would tell anyone. I definitely didn't think he would release the news to freaking TMZ ."

"Um, do you know Kevin?" Ivy asks dryly. "Because of course he would."

"Why is he still your agent?" Jace asks Freddie. "Because he's kind of the worst."

"He is," Freddie says. "Unequivocally. But he can negotiate the hell out of a contract. I don't need to like the guy to admit he's good at what he does."

"There are other agents who are also good at what they do," Ivy says, and I get the sense they've had this argument before. "They just also have integrity."

Freddie waves a dismissive hand. "I can't be manipulated by a man I know as well as I know Kevin. I know his tells. I get what you're saying, but he's harmless. At least, he is to me."

"Is this harmless to me?" I say, holding up my phone. "The fact that he just broadcasted my engagement to the whole world when I'm not actually engaged?"

"Except you are now," Jace says. "At least until after the concert. You're engaged, and I'm happily married, Leo's studio is not close to declaring bankruptcy, and Freddie did not swear at the Instagram influencer with the annoying kid no matter what she claims to the contrary. Because that's what will sell tickets. All of us happy, living our lives with no drama, no lies, and no need for privacy whatsoever. You might have forgotten, but that's the way this business works."

My blood runs hot as I think about Jace's words. It sucks to see my name back in a headline again, but it's not like he said anything I didn't already know. It was naive of me to think Kevin wouldn't use the news of my engagement— fake engagement— to his advantage.

Even more naive if I thought I could agree to do the concert and not be exposed to this side of the business.

Ivy drops onto the step beside me. "Are you okay?" she asks.

"It's a little bit of a wake-up call," I say, "but it's fine. The article barely says anything."

"It doesn't," she says, "but that doesn't mean someone won't try to leak something else." She glances over her shoulder at Freddie, then scoots a little closer. "Listen. I don't trust Kevin like Freddie does, and I wouldn't put it past him to have someone here, someone working on the concert, try to sneak a photo of you or your fiancée. Kevin doesn't want scandal, so he won't make you look bad. But he does want you in the spotlight, so if you're worried about your privacy, I'd keep a close eye out. Especially once Laney gets here."

My gut tightens at the thought of telling Laney we've been outed on the internet. She seemed willing enough to keep up the charade when we talked on the phone yesterday, but the way I framed it, it was more about keeping things chill here. At least ten different people congratulated me on my engagement within an hour of arriving at the farm. Or, more within an hour of people figuring out who I was. Either way, I got tired of trying to explain because then people assumed I'd experienced a breakup and getting sympathy for that was even worse than the congratulations.

But this—an article on TMZ —this is a bigger deal.

This also puts Laney's privacy at risk.

If her name were to be leaked somehow, she'd have family members, friends, co-workers who would all believe something about her that isn't true.

That's a lot to ask of her. A lot to expect.

As soon as Kevin gets here, it's going to be hard not to punch him in the nose.

A car appears in the distance, slowly making its way toward the farmhouse, and I stand up. I recognize Laney's black Honda from here.

For now, I pocket my phone and push the TMZ article from my mind. I'll tell her about it as soon as I get her alone.

Laney jumps into my arms as soon as she's out of the car, and I spin her around before lowering her back to the ground and pressing my lips to hers.

Behind me, the guys break out in a chorus of whistles and catcalls.

I chuckle as I drop my forehead to hers. "Hi. Thanks for coming. Sorry about them," I say, tilting my head to the house behind us.

Laney finally looks up, and her eyes widen as her gaze moves from one band member to the next. She clears her throat with a sound that's somewhere in between a gulp and a yelp. "It's gonna take me a minute to get used to seeing you all together."

"If it makes you feel any better, I'm still getting used to it, too," I say. "Come on. I'll introduce you."

She lifts her hands and presses them to her cheeks. They're flushed pink, the same color as her lips, and I resist the urge to lean down and kiss her one more time.

"Oh, hey, that's a ring on your finger," I say, noticing the diamond on her left hand.

She holds it out for me to see. "It's beautiful, right? It was Percy's idea. He borrowed it from Mimi, who promised it is absolutely not real and if I lose it, she will still love me." She lifts her gaze to mine. "Do you mind? Since we're running with the engagement story, I thought it would be easier than explaining why I don't have one."

I swallow. The sight of a ring on her finger is impacting me in ways I can't fully process. I haven't even thought about proposing so far. We're nowhere near that point. But the idea of her walking around wearing a ring that tells everyone she belongs with me—I do not mind it even a little.

Then there's the fact that she's willing to do this in the first place. To borrow a ring, to drive all this way. It's so much more than I deserve.

"It is beautiful," I say. "Thanks for thinking of it."

We make our way over to the porch, and the guys come down the stairs to say hello. Ivy must have already gone back inside because she's nowhere to be seen, so it only takes a moment to introduce Leo and Jace. They each shake her hand, then Freddie pulls her into an enormous hug. "Good to see you again, Laney," he says.

"You too." She smiles wide, then turns to Leo and Jace. "And it's nice to meet both of you. I'm a big fan of your work." She delivers this line, then looks at me and grins, eyes wide, like she can't quite believe this is happening.

I like that she isn't hiding this part of herself from me. Don't get me wrong. I'm glad that I met Laney and first got to know her without Midnight Rush factoring into the relationship. I remember questioning all the time, when the band was at its peak, if people were genuinely interested in me or just in my fame. I hated that the question ever had to be a part of making friendships or having relationships, so I was happy to leave that aspect of the band behind.

But now that I know Laney was a fan, and now that she knows I'm Deke, I appreciate that she doesn't feel like she has to play it cool or pretend like it's no big deal.

When I was eighteen, I might have been uncomfortable dating someone who had my poster on the wall by her bed. And if Laney still had my poster by her bed, we might have a problem. But this far removed, it's more… adorable. And humbling—that someone as brilliant and amazing as Laney dedicated so much passion to the music that was such a formative part of my life.

"This place is amazing," Laney says, looking around at the farm. "It actually reminds me a little of Hope Acres. The way it's nestled into the mountains. You guys should see Adam's place. It's beautiful too."

Pride swells in my chest at her praise. I don't have the careers that any of the other guys have. I'm not making music like they are or building platforms, gaining fans. But I am proud of what I've done with my life, even if it took me a little while to get there, and it means a lot to hear Laney's words.

I press a hand to Laney's back. "Come on. We can get you settled in upstairs, then you're welcome to watch rehearsal, if you want."

I look at Freddie. "What are we working on next?"

"I want to work on ‘Never Say Never,'" Leo says.

"But we should run through ‘Curves Like That' one more time, now that Laney is here to watch," Jace says.

Laney gasps. "Are you doing the dance?"

"You know we have to do the dance," Freddie says.

"True," Laney says. "Fans would never forgive you."

"Meet back in five?" Jace says, and we all agree.

Goldie is stretched out on her dog bed in the corner when I carry Laney's stuff into my room .

The one downside to the farmhouse is its limited number of guest rooms. The band and other key players are staying here, and there's one more bunk house somewhere else on the property that's in use, but the largest number of people are staying at a hotel in Silver Creek and commuting back and forth to the farm. Which is fine. Not everyone needs to be here the whole two weeks, so there has already been a lot of coming and going anyway.

The point is, there isn't space at the farmhouse for Laney to have her own room, and I do not want her staying at the hotel.

So I'm giving her my room. I haven't decided where I'll sleep yet—probably on the couch in the second-floor common area where we've been hanging out every night. But I'll figure out that part later.

Laney stops in the doorway and looks around, her gaze landing on the giant king-sized bed in the middle of the room. My shoes are on the floor beside it, and a flannel is hanging on the bedpost.

"This is your room." She eyes me curiously. "Am I staying in your room?"

"You are, but I'm not," I say quickly. "There aren't any vacant rooms, so I thought you could stay here, and I'll crash on the couch in the living room down the hall."

She takes a deep breath, then opens her mouth like she's going to say something before closing it again. "Adam, you can't sleep on the couch."

"Sure, I can. It's not a big deal."

"But it might be a big deal if it makes people talk. I don't want to give anyone the impression we're fighting."

I think of Jace's words. Ivy's warning.

We don't need a scandal. I will never stop feeling like an idiot for getting Laney into this mess in the first place, but she's right. People might talk. And I'd rather my personal life not be at the center of any of those conversations.

"Only if you're sure," I say. "But I need you to know I have zero expectations here. I did not set this up expecting you to offer to share."

"I one hundred percent believe you. It's not a big deal. And it is a big bed. We'll be fine."

I'm tempted to ask what she means by fine.

Fine…because she plans to assemble a giant wall of pillows down the center of the bed and stay on her side of the mattress?

Fine…because she's happy to share a room and a bed and embrace wherever that takes us?

Fine…because she isn't attracted to me so it will feel like sharing a bed with her sibling?

Okay, scratch that last one. I've kissed Laney enough times to know not to worry about that.

But the truth is, I don't have a lot of experience navigating conversations like this one. I was a very young eighteen when Midnight Rush ended. Offstage, I was shy and awkward. Post-concert casual hookups never felt like the right choice for me.

Once I left the band, I was basically in hiding. I didn't date or hang out with friends. While other guys my age were attending frat parties and swiping right on dating apps, I was learning how to cook and teaching myself how to play guitar and hoping the Amazon delivery guy didn't figure out who I was.

It's not in my nature to be casual, and at some point, I'll have to talk to Laney about this. She's not casual for me—I already know that. But I still want to take things slow .

Laney lets her purse fall from her shoulder and drops it onto the chair next to Goldie's bed, then crouches down to scratch the dog's ears. "I'm glad Goldie got to come," she says easily. "Is she getting outside to enjoy the farm?"

"She tried to herd some goats yesterday," I say. "And she made friends with a basset hound named Charlie."

"Oh my gosh, I bet you loved that, Goldie." The dog rolls over to show her belly, and Laney gives her good scratches, talking to her the whole time. The diamond on Laney's finger glints in the sunlight streaming in through the window.

She's doing a lot for me this week.

She's here, for one. Taking time off work, rearranging her life so she can hang out with me, just be here , because I was feeling overwhelmed and thought having her around might keep me grounded.

It's already working. I need to tell her about the TMZ thing, about the potential for Kevin to leak a photo or more. But it doesn't feel as scary as it did a few minutes ago. Now that she's here, it just feels like everything will be okay.

Like she's the anchor I've always needed.

She looks up and sees me studying her, and her lips lift into a smile.

"What?" she asks.

I hold my hand and help her to her feet, then wrap my arms around her waist, tugging her against me.

I lift a hand to her cheek and press a lingering kiss to her lips. "I don't think I deserve you, Laney Lawson," I whisper against her lips.

And it feels like the truest thing I've said in a very long time.