“That makes sense.”
He glanced at my bed, his expression a twist of pain and uncertainty. “But while they don’t want to waste time extinguishing nonexistent fires, they want to be proactive about what it could mean for my reputation.”
I frowned. “What do you mean?”
He shifted and finally made eye contact. “They want to make the most of the lie that Alyssa and I are romantically involved. They believe that her association with the women’s emergency shelter I’ve been donating to for the past few years could help me. Because I was doing it anonymously, it means I wasn’t trying to benefit from it and it will look good for my image.”
A voice in my head repeated his words, They want to make the most of the lie that Alyssa and I are romantically involved, and my heart crumpled. “They want you to go back to L.A., don’t they?”
“It was suggested that I return now, but I’m not ready to leave yet.” He moved closer to me and ran his thumb along my cheek.
“Why’s that?” I said, voice little more than a whisper. I’d known that what we had between us couldn’t last forever, that I only had mere weeks with him anyway, but the record label’s request for him to return sooner made it feel more real, more final.
His thumb brushed against my lips. “I missed you after I left the first time. More than I thought would be possible. You’re my heart and soul, Hailey.”
I was too stunned to say anything, which was just as well. His mouth captured mine and we were kissing. While I might have been unable to respond to his words with my own, I more than made up for it with my kiss.
He was my heart and soul too.
I don’t know long we were kissing before we finally pulled apart. He rested his forehead against mine and we stayed this way while we regained our breath. But as the fog in my head began to dissipate, those words from earlier came back. Nolan might have told me I was his heart and soul, but that wasn’t what the record label wanted. They wanted him linked with Alyssa.
What would that mean for Nolan and me? Did the record label expect the pair to fake their relationship in public, so people believed what they had between them was real? Or did they expect Nolan and Alyssa to fall in love? Rumor was she wanted to record an album, since she was also a talented singer. Was this romance nothing more than marketing to benefit both their careers?
“I’m going to the store.” I needed to temporarily get away from everything circling me like soul-sucking vultures. “Do you need anything?”
“I’ll come with you.”
I shook my head. A run-in with another of his ardent admirers was not what I needed right now. “It’s better if you stay here. I won’t be long.” I gave him a quick kiss and left before he could argue otherwise.
The grocery store wasn’t busy when I arrived. I wandered up and down the aisles, delaying the inevitable trip home. Dwelling on how Nolan had said I was his heart and soul. Doing my best not to think about anything else.
As I inspected a red pepper, the subtle, spicy scent of someone’s aftershave taunted me.
“What the fuck did you bring her here for?” a low, rough male voice said, as if sharing a secret.
I opened my eyes to see what was going on but was met by the fierce glare of a flashlight.
Something bumped into my side, jerking me from my memory.
“Sweetie, I told you to be careful with the shopping cart,” a mom gently admonished her four-year-old. The little girl barely reached the handlebar and looked perturbed that I’d been in her way.
I flashed her an apologetic smile, then scanned the area, searching for the source of my memory. The only people nearby were mothers and a male grocery clerk who didn’t look familiar.
“Oh my God, it’s her,” a female voice shrieked.
My head jerked up at the sound. A seventeen-year-old girl was glaring at me as if I’d stolen her boyfriend and she wanted to scratch my eyes out.
Her friend glanced between us, as confused by the girl’s outburst as I was. “Her who?”
“She’s the woman trying to steal Tyler Erickson away from Alyssa Graham.”
I’m not sure what made me cringe more, the way she screamed it or that the lies and my picture had already hit the Internet.
The friend looked me over, not thoroughly convinced I was capable of stealing Nolan from anyone who looked like Alyssa. Especially given the way I currently looked, with my hair in a messy post-sex-in-the-shower ponytail, barely any makeup, and clothes sitting on this side of comfy. Alyssa’s hair was always perfect. Her makeup was always perfect. Her outfits were always perfect. The paparazzi had yet to shoot a bad picture of her.
“Are you sure?” The friend scanned the vegetable section, possibly searching for Nolan.