Page 16

One Way Ticket

Mia

Aleks’s words still rang in my head weeks later.

“Don’t let them steal your pen when you’re just getting to the good part.”

They were a source of inspiration, firing me forward into the next week of chaos. Every show I appeared on, the recording of the music video for our first single, tour practices… all of it was done with confidence buzzing deep within me.

He was right.

I was just getting to the good part.

This album, while it was my fifth, felt like the first of a new era. It felt like stepping into a new persona, a new space, a new life. Even after just the first single, my fans were giddy with the possibilities of what the rest of the album could sound like. They were ready to hear this new version of me, the one who was older, wiser, and had more to say.

My label had high expectations. Our single had been number one on all the streaming platforms and on the Billboard Top 100 since the week it dropped. Pre-orders for the full album far surpassed my last one. The music video for the first single had been viewed more than fifty million times. We hadn’t announced the tour yet, but they had a feeling that when we did, we were going to set records. We were doing multiple nights at some of the biggest stadiums and arenas in the world, and they were forecasting us selling out every single night.

Everything about this just felt… larger.

And I was riding that high like it was a glitter-dusted cloud — right up until the album release party.

“Okay, Aleks should be here any moment now,” Isabella said, flying into the bathroom where I was currently pretending to reapply lipstick that didn’t need fixing. “I may or may not have tipped off a few of our favorites to have their phones ready.”

She added that last part with a wink, and I knew by favorites , she meant the fans who ran accounts that were mostly favorable when it came to me. It had been a bold choice to invite them to my private release party, but it had been on purpose.

Because no matter how the momentum climbed for this album, Garrett Orange was still running his mouth every chance he got. And we knew without confirmation from anyone that he’d influenced some of the other big names in the music critic game.

The album had been panned by nearly every music industry magazine and blog, and they were all hanging on the same tired reasons that Garrett was.

Based on those reviews alone, I was sure we were already out of the running for any awards. I was fairly certain that the label had a similar thought. And where all of the reviews had me second guessing everything, wondering if I was a sham who thought this album was great when it was really a massive flop waiting to happen, Isabella was convinced we could turn it around — and that tonight would be pivotal.

Because tonight, the whole world would hear the album for themselves.

They would be the real judges.

And clearly, Isabella wanted my new relationship with Aleks front and center in their minds as they made those decisions.

“He’s showing up with a whole posse, by the way,” Isabella informed me, typing away on her phone. Her hot pink hair was in a slicked back ponytail tonight, her neck tattoo on prominent display in the tiny, leather strapless top she wore with skin-tight jeans. “G and I both agreed it would be good to see your worlds blending a little.”

I nodded absentmindedly, blotting my lips and staring at my reflection.

My makeup was done to perfection, from the striking red lip to the bold smoky eye. Blush and lashes, bronzer and brows. My dress was custom-made by my favorite designer, hugging all the right places and mirroring the album’s colors — a shimmering yellow and coral and red, like a sunset.

On the outside, I looked like the pop star that I was.

On the inside, I felt more unsteady than I had in years.

I usually lit up for these things. I mean, it was my album release party , for fuck’s sake. This was what I’d worked so hard for, what I’d counted down to, what I’d dreamed of for more than a year now.

Thanks to all the bad press, for the first time in my career, I wanted to vomit at the thought of the world hearing my songs in just a few hours.

“Hey,” Isabella said, lifting her eyes and getting a good look at me for the first time. “You good?”

I smiled brilliantly — first at my reflection and then at her. This wasn’t a pathetic attempt at a fake smile. This was the kind of fake smile that saved me from breakdowns, that assured even those closest to me that I really was fine.

“Are you kidding? I’m fucking perfect ,” I lied, kissing both her cheeks. “I could use a glass of champagne, though.”

“Ugh, so cliché. I was kind of picturing us doing J?ger bombs,” she said with a teasing smile, looping her arm through mine. She continued chatting about all the people attending tonight, the order of events, and other business-related things that I should have been giving my rapt attention to.

As it was, I just followed her and pretended to listen, all while fighting against the way my heart threatened to surge out of my chest.

I was glad we’d decided to host the release party at my house in LA. Not just because this property was far too vast to only house me ninety percent of the time, but because I knew all the places I could escape to for a quiet moment here.

I followed Isabella around the house as she showed me the incredible transformation of the space, thanks to my house manager, Renee, and the event crew she’d hired to help. Fine linens and carefully curated lighting set the tone for the event, along with a popular new DJ on our label spinning soft but pleasant music.

Most of the guests were hanging out around the pool and enjoying the gorgeous August evening. We hadn’t made the guest list a huge one, but rather stuck to those in the industry I was closest with, along with a handful of lucky fans selected to join us.

I was in the middle of taking a selfie with one such fan when Mom and Dad showed up.

I felt like a little girl as I squealed and flew into my mother’s arms. No matter what was going on in their lives in Chicago, they never missed my big events. Album release parties, the first night on tour, award ceremonies — whenever I needed them, they were there.

“Oh, you look stunning,” Mom said when I wrapped her in a hug, holding on tightly for longer than usual. She didn’t break the hug, though. She held me just as fiercely before pulling back and framing my arms in her hands, her eyes searching. “Absolutely breathtaking.”

“What she said,” Dad mirrored, and he tugged me in for a side hug and a kiss against my temple once Mom and I let go. “How are you feeling, my little star?”

“Amazing,” I lied. God , I hated that it was a lie. It grated on my nerves more and more as the night went on that I didn’t feel the way I usually did at these events. “I can’t believe tonight’s the night.”

“You’ve worked so hard,” Mom said. She threaded her fingers together with mine and squeezed. “We are so proud of you.”

“Extremely proud,” Dad added. He picked up a glass of champagne from a passing tray, taking a sip of it with his eyes scanning the crowd. “Quite an impressive turnout tonight.”

“I’ll never get used to being in the same room with Huxton Crow,” Mom added, her cheeks tinging pink. “He is just so…”

Her voice faded as her eyes flicked up to my father, who had cocked a brow and was waiting with an amused smile for her to finish that sentence.

“Talented,” she said.

“Uh-huh. I’m sure that’s all you admire about him, honey. His talent. ”

Mom released my hand so she could slide into my father’s side, and he wrapped one arm around her and kissed her hair.

“He’s got nothing on you, my love,” she promised.

The way they looked at each other made my chest seize. That was the kind of love I yearned for, the kind that I wrote songs about. Thirty years together and they were still just as madly in love as day one.

Dad smirked before he was serious again, his brows folding a bit. “So, will your boyfriend be joining us this evening?”

He took a sip of his champagne after the question, as if that would mask his clear distaste. I couldn’t help but smirk a little because my father had always been a little protective when it came to me.

“Charlie,” Mom warned.

“In fact, he will,” I answered. “Any moment now.”

“Really?” Mom lit up then. “Oh, I can’t wait to see him. It’s been far too long.”

I sipped my own champagne before eyeing dad. “Don’t act like you aren’t excited to see him, too.”

“I’d be more excited if the last time I saw him wasn’t on the header of a blog mauling my daughter.”

I rolled my eyes. “It was just a little kiss. And I hate to break it to you, but there will be more of that. It’s kind of the whole point of this charade.” I made sure to say that last part quietly just in case anyone was trying to listen in on our conversation.

“I still don’t understand why it’s necessary,” Dad grumbled, taking my cue to speak softly.

“Well, it’s a good thing I have a highly paid team who does understand then, isn’t it?”

Mom chuckled at my dad’s displeasure, patting his chest. “Oh, he’ll be fine. He’s always going to see you as his little girl. We’re just happy you told us about it instead of making us believe it was real. Aren’t we, sweetheart?”

Dad grumbled in response, and Mom and I chuckled while sharing a knowing look.

It was the strangest thing, because I knew when Aleks did show, my father would wrap him into a bear hug and probably steal him away for most of the night to talk about hockey. That was what happened nearly every holiday Aleks joined us in Chicago since graduation. Those two loved each other.

And yet, Dad was acting like us pretending to date was the end of the world.

Then again, he’d eyed any man I’d brought home to meet the family in that same way. Hell, even Austin didn’t win him over in the three years we dated. Maybe Mom was right — Dad would just always see me as his little girl, and no one would ever be good enough.

Mom launched into a story about one of our neighbors and good friends of hers who’d recently hosted a party on their new yacht, and I listened intently until the moment Isabella slid up to interrupt. She smiled apologetically at my parents before pulling me away, her tone low as she whispered in my ear.

“He’s here,” she sang. “Show time.”

My next breath was stunted, the hair along the back of my neck standing on end as I scanned the party.

I hadn’t spent much time with Aleks since our rendezvous at the beach house in Florida. Sure, we’d been seen together at various events thanks to the careful orchestration of Giana and Isabella, but I really had been so busy that, aside from a quick photo op, there hadn’t been much time to spare. We’d texted, yes, but again — sparsely.

My heart was accelerating with every second that passed knowing he was close now.

When I finally spotted him, that silly heart stopped altogether.

He parted that crowd like a scene in a movie, as if every guest here was an extra who knew their role was to step aside when he walked in. A triangle of people followed him, hockey players I distantly recognized with their significant others clinging to their arms.

But all my focus was on him.

He was dressed to kill in a designer suit tailored to perfection. It was a dark mustard yellow, almost brown but with just a hint of warmth to match the vibes of my album. Beneath that suit was an all-black shirt that hugged his thick neck instead of a traditional button up and tie, and I knew without seeing it that beneath that was the chain necklace Annaliese gave him when he was younger. He never took it off, no matter the occasion.

From his fresh buzz cut and the perfectly shaped scruff on his jaw, all the way down to the dress shoes carrying him across the party toward me, he was delectable.

I didn’t miss the flash of his watch as he smoothed his hand over his stomach, the other hand sliding confidently into the pocket of his slacks. He wore a cocky smirk and walked with a confident gait that only a champion could.

And his searing dark eyes were locked on me.

“Damn,” I heard Isabella whisper under her breath. I thought I felt her squeeze my arm before she was scurrying off, she and everyone around me backing away a few feet as if they were taking the cue from the audience parting the seas for Aleks.

Once again, we had a plan for tonight. He was going to show up fashionably late to get the rumor mills buzzing. Will he or won’t he be here? And when he did show, he was going to kiss me in front of the entire party.

It was our first real public event together. This wasn’t a spotting of us at a restaurant or on the beach together. This wasn’t him being seen with me at the recording of a late-night show.

This was our friends and family together in one place. This was an intimate party with an exclusive guest list.

This was our public declaration that we were serious.

And fuck , did that man look serious as he prowled closer, his shoulders square, eyes heated and drinking me in from my straightened hair all the way to my red bottom heels. He was just so… good at this, at pretending like he wanted me, like I drove him mad, like I was the object of his every desire.

He played the part so well it was hard to remind myself it wasn’t real with him looking at me the way he did.

My breath was locked in my chest, and I willed it to break free and give me at least one puff of oxygen before he reached me. When he was close enough, he cocked an eyebrow, a silent question to ask if I was ready.

The corner of my mouth tilted up in response, a coy and inviting smile.

I swore his gaze grew even hungrier at that.

The music faded. The distant chatter grew to a haunting hum of anticipation.

And without a word of greeting, he kissed me.

Aleks didn’t stop until his body was flush against mine, until we were all but crashing into each other in the middle of that party. One hand slid up and back into my hair, his thumb on my jaw strong and steady. His other hand was at my neck, splaying from where my pulse thrummed through the skin over my collarbone. It was as if he wanted to hold me to him and push me away in equal measure, like having one hand curling and the other flat would somehow help him keep control.

It was so fucking hot I wondered if I’d combust right then and there into a fiery blaze.

He groaned when his lips met mine, and I finally found my breath, inhaling him in as he held the kiss. I told myself it was something I’d practiced and planned for when I pressed up onto my toes and silently asked for more, when my arms wrapped around his neck and I raked my nails over his freshly cut hair.

The familiar feel of that hair against my palm had me reeling, memories of the past battling with the overwhelming sensation of now .

Aleks nipped at my bottom lip just enough to make me gasp and open, and he swept his tongue inside my mouth, striking a bolt of electricity between my legs. His hands were framing my face now, holding me to him, and then they slowly released, pulling me into him for a hug as he broke the kiss.

Again, I told myself it was an act when I chased that kiss as soon as he pulled away, not ready to let it end.

He chuckled a bit as he tucked me into him, his arms massive and protective and warm. He smelled like cinnamon and leather, and I inhaled the scent with a shaky, shallow breath.

“Hi,” he breathed, kissing my hair.

“Hi.”

“You look…” I felt him swallow, his voice low and gravelly.

“Beautiful? Ravishing? Like a million bucks?” I teased, tilting my head up until my chin was on his chest.

“Like a one-way ticket to jail for me if anyone tries to touch you tonight.”

My skin heated under his gaze, under that compliment, but I managed to roll my eyes. “Look at you, playing the part of possessive boyfriend so well.” I smiled. “You look alright, too. You know. For a hockey brute.”

He smirked at me with the jest. “Just alright, huh? Because I’m pretty sure I caught you drooling on my walk over here.”

“Only because I remembered Chef Jenn made her famous cannolis. Still counting down the seconds until I get one of those.”

Aleks bit his bottom lip on a nod before digging his fingers into my rib, just enough for me to squirm in his grip before he was holding me even tighter.

“Such a brat.”

“Don’t lie. It turns you on.”

“Oh, nothing gets me going quite like that mouth of yours.”

I hid my smile against his chest before peering up at him again, all jokes gone.

“I’m glad you’re here,” I said.

And I meant it.

Pretending to be something we weren’t in front of a crowd full of people was oddly the calmest I’d felt all night.

His eyes flicked between mine, an unreadable expression washing over his face.

But before I could analyze it, someone clapped Aleks on the shoulder, cueing us to come back to reality.