There were no looks of recrimination from anyone.
A shudder shot through her. She stared at her shoes. A bit of bloody gauze rested beside her previously immaculate, but now scuffed and streaked yellow heels.
“He was coming after me. He could’ve hurt someone out there because of me.” Anguish dripped from every syllable.
I ran my fingers under her chin and turned her toward me. “You don’t get to blame yourself for that crazy guy.”
She rubbed her nose against mine. “I’ll make you a deal. You don’t blame yourself and I’ll try not to blame myself.”
I didn’t like that deal. I didn’t like the way she said she’d try, when I knew it weighed heavily on her.
“Let’s go ho—to my place.”
27
Bay
“There’s outdoor seating, if you wanted to watch from out there.” The skybox attendant pointed toward the door leading out to the three rows of stadium-style seats on the mini balcony.
“Food is right over here.” He pointed to the seven—seven!—chafing dishes. “If you’d like more, we can arrange for it to arrive right before kick-off. There’s also a full-service bar and hot apple cider. The servers will be here in a few minutes.”
Unless I’d been infected by a tapeworm, there was no way in hell I’d need more food. Did he think I was actually two pre-teens balanced on each other’s shoulders looking for snacks?
“It’s okay. I don’t need anyone, I’m good to serve myself.”
What would feel more awkward than being in this Presidential Club Suite on my own? Being here with a few servers and a bartender to watch me watch the game all by myself.
Those same people might surreptitiously take a picture or two of Bay Post Attack! While Holden and Emily usually handled my social media, I’d posted a note in the aftermath. The questions about Keyton being there with me and what happened given his past were mounting, and I wanted to set the record straight myself, to tell them exactly what happened, how he’d saved me and how the attacker was in custody.
Holden or Emily could’ve done it, but I felt the first post about me and Keyton should be from me. Everyone needed to know how much he meant to me and how grateful I was for what he had done. I didn’t want anyone to think this was even the slightest bit of a return to the guy he’d once been. He’d truly changed, and I didn’t want there to be a doubt in his mind that I believed that was true.
There was a deluge of support, millions of comments, likes, and shares. There were even more questions about me and Keyton. We were social media official now. The rest of the world had their window into us being together. I still wasn’t sure how I felt about that, but I didn’t want him to think there was a second thought in my mind about how much I needed him. How much I loved him.
My mom had been as shocked as anyone else to see him there. I’d never told her what happened between us back in Greenwood or LA, so she’d been happy we’d reconnected in time and he’d protected me. She even told me I should bring him to the house the next time I got there. She sounded happy I’d found someone, that someone was there for me. Someone not on payroll.
We’d also rescheduled the listen along event, inviting the radio winners to the hotel instead of going to them since we didn’t want the location leaked again. It was a mess, but PR-wise, it had gone as well as it could. Mental health-wise, I could pretend with the best of them that I didn’t feel like my heart might explode when more than a few people were around me or someone bumped into me.
“All our food and bar service is included with the suite.” It was only then that I’d realized he’d been talking that whole time.
“And I appreciate it and I’m sure they’d do a wonderful job. There will be a hefty tip left behind for them, but I’d like to hang out on my own. No need to bring anyone else in.
“The food is already here, right?” I lifted the lid of the chafing dish. Buffalo chicken dip. I grabbed a plate and spooned some out, along with some celery. Taking a giant scoop, I shoved it into my mouth proving I could indeed serve and feed myself.
Covering my mouth with the back of my hand, I mumbled. “See. All good.”
The man in the suit with a shiny silver name tag cycled through a few different reactions before settling on the best one. “If that’s your preference. I’ll let the team know.”
“Thank you. And if there’s anything anyone wanted signed, they can leave it outside with Eric. We’ll also have some swag for the team as well.” I extended my hand to shake his.
His whole demeanor shifted from defeated to delighted. He grabbed onto my hand with both of his and shook it like he was working an 1800s-water pump. “Thank you so much. And I wanted to say, I loved your last album. My Remember Me playlist has been on repeat for the past three months. It’s helped me through some hard times.” His eyes filled with barely contained tears.
These moments, when I saw how happy my songs made someone, were the best and hardest ones. My songs could be there while someone was facing down the rough patches in life. It made it all the more important to keep going. It made stepping back feel like an impossibility, if even one person could be touched by my music.
I squeezed his upper arm. “You’re very welcome.”
“Your lyrics—I love them so much. There’s so much to them that everyone who covers you gives me goosebumps. I have a few of them mixed in there too. Have you heard any?”
“I’ve heard a few. Have you ever listened to Spencer Hayes?” He’d love the new songs—hopefully. Maybe I should talk to Holden about putting out more song-writing feelers.
“No, never, but I’ll check him out on my next break.” He backed out of the room, giddy and grinning.
Laughing, I went back to my plate of chicken dip, stealing another celery-loaded bite before dumping the plate. Maybe I could get them to give the staff all the leftover food too. There was no sense in it all going to waste.
I wandered around the big empty space all on my own. It was better than the alternative, but once again I was hit with the deserted loneliness of this moment. I wrapped my arms around myself and stared out at the stadium full of people in the stands sharing drinks, laughing, and cheering together.
I’d told Keyton, Holden and Emily over and over that I was fine after the attack, but being on my own had gotten harder, just like being around other people had.
Someone could’ve gotten hurt. Keyton could’ve gotten hurt beyond the small cut. Alone, I worried. I jumped at loud noises. Around too many people, I kept thinking of what would happen if someone else showed up wanting to hurt me.
Even now, outside the doors, Eric had brought on someone else for security. Holden had found a conference room to stake out. So much for being alone. Other than when I was with Keyton, this was as safe as I’d felt alone in the past week.
Behind me, the door to the suite opened. I jumped. Instead of the catering and bartending staff, it was two faces I hadn’t expected.
“Bay!” Jules and Marisa walked into the skybox with giddy squeals. These weren’t like the ones from fans, but like ones from friends—the same kind Felicia and Piper greeted me with in the far-too-infrequent visits we squeezed in. I was determined to make those more frequent after the tour, when I wouldn’t be the shitty friend who always bailed or showed up an hour late.