I ducked my head. It was still awkward and a little embarrassing to have “fans.” Especially when they were my peers.
“Should I change first?” I asked, pulling my sweat-soaked costume away from my body.
It suctioned back to my skin with a juicy thwack when I let go. Ew.
But Ryan was already pulling me into the VIP area. We were immediately swarmed, but across the room, I saw four guys rise—almost in unison—from a couch. Clearly the boot camp had worked.
It took some maneuvering, but Ryan managed to get us through the crowd of people to the other side.
“Katee,” he said, “this is CrushZone. My band.”
“Your band?” one of the guys asked. He had a charming Australian accent and sounded amused, not annoyed.
Ryan laughed. “You know what I mean,” he said. “This is Wyatt.”
I shook his hand.
“This is LC and Mason.” Ryan gestured to a blond guy with brilliant blue eyes and his visual contrast, a guy with dark almost blue-black hair, eyeliner, and thick strong eyebrows.
“I’m a big fan,” LC said. There was a faint twang to his voice.
“We’re all fans,” Mason said.
He had a great smoky voice. I was betting he was one of the front men, along with Ryan.
“And this is Cal State,” Ryan said.
Seeing him again was like getting air blown right in my face. And down the back of my neck.
“Cal,” he said.
Still a baritone.
“Hi,” he said.
I stared.
He’d dyed his hair.
“Oh my god,” I said. “Cal Kirby?”
He grinned at me. “Hey, Kathleen,” he said.
I stepped forward, about to hug him, but Ryan had already wrapped his arm around Cal’s shoulders and was messing with his hair. Cal pushed him off, his eyes still focused on me.
“I wasn’t sure you’d remember me,” he said.
“How could I forget?” I asked.
God. Those dimples. That voice. If anything, both had gotten better with age.
“A girl always remembers her first…” I cleared my throat. “Her first duet partner.”
I’d wondered, over the years, what had happened to him. If he still thought about that summer. That last night. That moment on the roof.
The smile we shared—knowing and sheepish and a little bit naughty—indicated that he had. I felt all tingly inside.
“You guys know each other?” Ryan asked.
Cal looked away. I looked at Ryan.
“We went to camp together,” I said.
“When we were kids,” Cal said. “The first thing she said to me was that I’d been flat during my audition.”
“That’s not true!” I said, outraged.
“No?” He gave me a look.
“It wasn’t the first thing I told you,” I said.
“Second thing, then,” he said.
“Well, you were,” I said.
He laughed. Ryan didn’t. I cleared my throat.
“He knows Harriet too,” I said.
“You’re still friends with Harriet?” Cal asked.
I grinned. “She’s writing songs for my next album,” I said. “She’ll be coming on tour for a little bit too.”
“Cool,” Cal said.
“Yeah,” Ryan said. “It’s cool that you guys all know each other.”
I recognized the tone in his voice. Luckily, I knew how to defuse it.
“Hey,” I said, wrapping my arms around his waist. “I missed you.”
He was so cute, his nose scrunched up as he debated whether to be jealous or attentive. I gave him a squeeze.
“I missed you too,” he said.
“How did you guys meet?” LC asked. “We’ve been asking Ryan, but he keeps telling us something different every time.”
I gave Ryan a look, but he just grinned at me.
“What?” he said. “We could have met at the blackjack tables in Vegas. Or while swimming with sharks.”
“The midair skydiving story was a little suspect,” Mason said.
“Well, I guess in comparison to that, it’s not quite as interesting,” I said. “We met on Show N Tell.”
The teen showcase had lasted only a few seasons, but it had completely changed my life. Not just meeting Ryan—which had happened while he was a main cast member and I was a lowly dancer—but it had connected me with Diana, who became my manager and helped create who I was today.
“I watched her audition,” Ryan said. “And told the producers that they had to cast her.”
I always pretended that I liked this story, but I didn’t. I didn’t like how Ryan made it sound like he was responsible for my career. Like he was the one who made all of this happen.
“My hero,” I said.
Ryan looped his arms around me, and this time the kiss wasn’t as chaste as the one he’d given me before. It felt like his tongue went all the way down my throat.
The guys coughed.
“Guess we should give you some privacy,” Wyatt said.
“Yeah,” Ryan said, and leaned in to kiss me again.
“Yeah,” I said, leaning back.
“Nice meeting you,” LC said.
“See you on tour,” Mason said.
“I can’t wait,” I said.
“Me neither,” said Cal.
CHAPTER 3
The year after everything fell apart was still a bit of a blur. I’d slept a lot. Twelve hours. Fourteen. Eighteen.
Part of it was the fact that I’d been working nearly nonstop since I was a teenager. The other part was the heavy, bone-deep weariness that came from the reality that the entire world knew you were a big old slut who had cheated on your beloved boy band boyfriend.
My last concert had erupted in boos, and even though Diana said that she and the rest of my management were just taking a break, that they were just stepping back to give me time, it was clear to all of us that my career was over. That no one was going to buy albums by or tickets to see someone who had smashed Ryan LaNeve’s heart into a billion tiny pieces.
He’d even shed a tear—a single tear—in one of his many, many interviews. He couldn’t stop talking about our breakup. About how betrayed he felt. How blindsided he was by the whole thing. All the while sitting right next to Cal, who said nothing.