Your Loyal Fan Read online

  "Just … don't leave me okay," He whispered.

  Before I could speak he kissed me, again. He shifted me to his side, pushed off the bed, and disappeared into the bathroom.

  Those four simple words broke my heart.

  I had no intention of leaving him.

  He was the one pushing me away.

  Instead of following him, I pulled on a pair of leggings and a sweatshirt and let Nip out of his crate. He scampered out the door as soon as I opened it. He barked at the elevator and it appeared as soon as I hit the button. Safe inside the elevator, I buckled his leash and followed the signs to the dog park.

  Safe in the enclosure and alone, I let Nip off his leash. He did his business. The sky was a perfect shade of blue, clean and clear. I wrapped my arms around me; the crisp air seeped in through the sweatshirt.

  Last year, I was in a winter coat and sweaters with a support boot on my broken foot. Valentine's Day was two days away. I woke up that day thinking how much my life sucked. It was one thing to be cynical about love. It was another thing to have your cynicism confirmed by the only man you had ever loved.

  Where some people find security and stability in hearing those words, I felt like Noah heard them come from my mouth and they made him even more insecure. I understood what he meant in a sense. Last year I tried to run away because of an embarrassing lie. Back then, I thought if he knew the truth, it would push him away and it had initially, but then he came back.

  I woke up that Valentine's Day with my negative attitude about the day fully intact.

  Valentine's Day sucks.

  I went to bed that night, in Noah's arms; my mindset about love had changed. It wasn't magic. It wasn't what people wrote about in love songs and romance novels. It was a choice, sparked by a genuine connection. It said, no matter who we were before, we belong to each other now. You had to trust someone in that kind of relationship dynamic, all the time. Not just when it was easy, but when it was hard, too.

  Noah hadn't gotten that, yet.

  Who I was in New York was the same me in LA. He ran away from something when he moved from LA and now it pulled him back into that part of himself he wasn't proud of. He didn't recognize himself.

  Hell, I don't recognize him, either.

  I was loyal to Noah, but I couldn’t fix him. He had to figure it out on his own. All I could do was love him. He would have to do the rest.

  I sat outside for over an hour. One of the hotel staff took pity on me and brought me a cup of coffee. When I returned to the room, Noah was gone. The groom’s party planned to get dress at the country club. I had a few hours to kill. I sat on the end of the plush couch in our suite with my laptop open and Nip next to me. I brainstormed some ideas for Garret. I wrote about the reality in the midst of the fantasy world I found myself in. I wrote about the unique perspective as not only a participant but as a practiced observer in my boyfriend’s world.

  When I looked up hours had past.

  I looked at my phone. I hadn't heard from Noah all day. I typed and deleted and retyped a text message three times. Something to let him know, I missed him, but I wasn't worried about him even though I was worried about him. I settled for three little words.

  Callie: I love you.

  I saw the three little dots immediately. He replied.

  Noah: I love you, too. <3

  I shut down my laptop and got ready for the wedding.

  It's cliché for red heads to wear green, but I found the slinky thin knit dress at a boutique in Brooklyn and knew it would be perfect for the celebrity wedding of the century. I paired it with black strappy heels and a single emerald solitaire Noah had bought me for my birthday. I surveyed myself in the mirror. The emeralds match my eyes. I dusted on light make up and partially dried my hair to keep the natural waves. I finished the look off with a tinted pink lip color. Nip stood at my feet and yelped his approval.

  "In your crate, sweetie," I said.

  Nip gave me a disappointed growl, but leaped into the crate, turned around six times and sitting on his blanket. I thought about bringing him to the wedding. Everyone I knew was in the wedding party. It wouldn't be too weird. After all, this was LA.

  At the bottom of the elevator, sections of the lobby were roped off. Big burly guys wearing all black stood with arms crossed over their chests or hands on their hips. With the earpieces, they looked like a secret service detail.

  At the end of the hallway, two more security guards stood. The hallway opened into the foyer between the wedding hall and the reception hall. It was blocked by a long table with four stations of woman assigned to check guests into the wedding. You couldn't go past this point until you received clearance.

  "Miss Blake." The same stern young lady in a headset from yesterday approached me. Her suit has a shiny tint to it. It must be her formal attire. She had a clipboard in her hand. She made a mark and ushered me to the far end of the table.

  A few other guests, most I recognized, stood at other tables talking to more women in headsets.

  "Since you're Noah Patrick's plus one, we need your signature on a few forms." She held the pen and the clipboard out for me.

  I stared at them both.

  I looked around the room. I spotted Terrance Archer. He played for the Forty-Niners with Preston.

  The woman on Terrance's arm caught me eye. She stared with her lips pinched. I tilted my head, she looked up at Terrance and they both looked in my direction.

  Clipboard lady shook the pen and cleared her throat.

  I took the pen and hovered over the signature line.

  "Is there a problem?" Her tone pierced the nerve on the back of my neck.

  "Uhm. No." I shook my head. I signed my name and handed her back the pen.

  "Who knows, maybe you'll get discovered and then become famous."

  She walked away before I could tell her.

  I don't want to be famous.

  I headed towards the ballroom. A hand tapped the back of my shoulder. I stopped.

  "Excuse me." It was the woman I saw with Terrance. "I couldn't help but overhearing. You're with Noah Patrick."

  "Yes."

  She grabbed my elbow and led me off to the side. We must have looked like two spy's conferring on tonight's plan. I had no choice, but to follow her.

  When we were out of view, she leaned in close.

  "How is he?" she asked. Her eyes darted all around.

  I backed up a step and it hit me like an arrow in my gut. The woman's name was Maria. Last time I saw her, she was splashed across my favorite tabloids with a messy weave and bruises on her arms and face. Maria was Noah's ex-girlfriend.

  I wanted to walk away. She didn't deserve to know how Noah was doing, but the other part of me, the journalistic or nosy part of me was curious about the woman who had herself beaten up in order to get back at Noah for dumping her.

  "He's fine. Really good." I didn't know what else to say.

  "How long have you two been together?" she asked.

  "A year."

  "Oh, wow." Her eyes grew wide. "That's great."

  "Yeah." I looked off into the crowd, but no one was paying any attention to us. "I know who you are?"

  "I figured." She shifted in her six-inch heels. "He told you I was sorry about what happened. I offered to talk to the papers, but he said not to bother. I wished I could take it back."

  "Some things are impossible to take back. Once they’re done, they're done."

  "Is he happy?" She blinked. "What am I saying? Of course he is. You're beautiful."

  "What do you want?"

  "Oh, nothing. I just ... I wanted you to know that he is a good man. He is hard to figure out and he doesn't react to things in the way you would expect sometimes, but deep down, he's a good--."

  "I don't need you to tell me that." I cut her off.

  "I know." She waved her hand away. "I'm just relieved. After what I did to him, I thought he'd never trust another woman again. I'm happy he found someone. He deserves to be
happy."

  Maria grabbed a strand of my hair and pushed it behind my shoulder. Her hands on me, even if it was only my hair, gave me a chill.

  She sighed and took off towards the ballroom.

  I watched her walk away, curling herself into the side of Terrance Archer as they walked into the wedding hall. After what she did to Noah, I couldn't believe another player would take a chance on her.

  Some guys liked crazy.

  Apparently, Noah had at one time, too.

  I shook the thought out of my mind. I headed into the wedding, praying the night had no other surprises.

  Thirteen

  Noah

  "Dude, check out the hot redhead in the green dress," Chad said.

  My ears perked up. Chad and some the other guys where watching the guests arrive on a monitor set up by the camera crew.

  "Don't let him get to you," Preston said as I helped him on with his coat.

  "Tell him to lay the fuck off, then," I said.

  "Well, Callie does look hot." Preston nodded towards the monitor and smirked.

  I looked up at the monitor. The camera zoomed in on her as she found a seat on the outside aisle. She held her head high. She smiled and giggled as the couple next to her spoke. Her wavy red hair draped over her shoulders. She wore a short shiny green dress that showed off her amazing legs. She sat with them crossed; even her feet were sexy.

  My girl was so fucking sexy.

  The camera offered no sound, but her lips moved as she spoke to the couple next to her. All three of them looked up as the couple in front of them turned in their seat and made introductions.

  I had worried Callie would be bored or uncomfortable attending the wedding alone. I was wrong. She was having a blast. I could watch her all day.

  "Okay. Men." Peter stood at the doorway. "It's about that time."

  I turned to Preston.

  "Man you ready for this?" I knew Kate was the best thing that had ever happened to him, but he was my boy. If he wanted to bail, I'd go start the car.

  "Yep." He exhaled long and slow. "I'm ready."

  I reached a hand out.

  He shook it and pulled me in for a hug.

  "Why am I doing this again?" He whispered in my ear. He tried to pull away, but I held on.

  "Because you can't picture your life without her in it." I gave him another reassuring squeeze.

  "That's the test?" He leaned back and narrowed his eyes.

  "Yep."

  "Works for me." He grinned and nodded. "Let's do this."

  We laughed and the rest of the guys gathered around us.

  "I just want to say." Chad spoke first. "I'd never do it. But, if I did, I'd have picked Kate Stone, too."

  Paxton punched Chad in the arm and the rest of us groaned.

  "What?" Chad held his hands up.

  "We're all ..." Paxton said, his voice strained. "We're happy for you."

  The rest of the guys nodded in agreement.

  "Gentleman."

  We all turned towards the door.

  "We're ready for you." The wedding planner motioned for us to follow.

  Most of the guys headed to another room where they would walk down the aisle with the bridesmaids. Peter, Preston and I went through another door. We stepped into the room and four hundred faces turned in our direction.

  Sweat pooled on my collar.

  Preston worked the crowed.

  I searched for Callie, and tried to make eye contact. She was engrossed in a conversation with her new friends.

  That was Callie.

  She had a knack for making people feel at ease. She asked people about themselves. At our favorite restaurant or coffee house in Brooklyn, she knew the staff by name, even asked them about their kids. She would make a great journalist.

  I walked around with my head down, hoping to remain anonymous. Not, Callie. She'd be the life of the party if something or someone weren’t holding her back.

  I finally caught her eye. She winked and smiled.

  I smiled back.

  She ran her hand through her hair.

  I licked my lips and grinned.

  The music played and the wedding party made it's way down the aisle. I held her gaze hoping she saw how much I loved and adored her. I needed her in my life. More than she needed me that was obvious.

  When the string quartet played the wedding march, the room stood up and I lost Callie. When they sat back down, we locked eyes again.

  I blew her a kiss and I saw the red tint of her cheeks from here.

  Throughout the ceremony, I stole glances at Callie. We all laughed throughout. Preston liked to have a good time, he wasn't particularly emotional, but during the vows, he had tears in his eyes.

  Leave it to Paxton to lighten the mood.

  "Dude, pull yourself together, you big baby," he said as he handed Preston a handkerchief and wiped his own eyes.

  The ceremony ended with a kiss and an introduction of Mr. & Mrs. Preston Carter.

  After a few photos, I was dismissed. I excused myself to find Callie.

  The wedding reception was in the ballroom across the foyer from the wedding. Women dressed in purple and black dresses, paced the waiting area with trays of specialty cocktails and tiny food.

  I scanned the lounge, but couldn't locate Callie.

  I searched the hallway and the reception room, but she was nowhere in sight. I took another pass around the room, but instead of Callie, I found Garret.

  He had come out of a little alcove off the side of the foyer.

  "Noah. My friend. Lovely ceremony, don't you think?" Garret held his hand out.

  I stared at it.

  He withdrew it and put his hands in his pockets.

  "Well. I guess you're looking for your little Callie." He turned back towards the balcony and then back to me. I looked over his shoulder and saw her red hair blowing in the wind.

  "Can I give you a little advice?"

  The way he cocked his head made my blood boil.

  "I don't need advice from you," I said and took a step towards the balcony. He placed his hand on my shoulder and I shook it off.

  "Noah, man. Listen to me. Callie is --"

  "Don't tell me about my girl." I stepped to him. "You don't know her."

  "You're right. I don't know her well, but I think she's very talented. I'm excited to help her."

  "Help her with what?" I crossed my arms over my chest. I tried to stay calm, but my heart thumped inside my chest.

  "Oh." He nodded and placed he hands on his hips.

  The crowd of people behind me, and the fact there were cameras everywhere kept me from knocking the cocky grin off his smug face.

  "Maybe I'll let her tell you the good news." He reached up and patted me on the shoulder. "Take care."

  Garret walked around me.

  I headed out onto the balcony to find out what the hell he was talking about.

  I pushed my way through the squeaky glass doors.

  Callie jumped.

  I stopped.

  Her face turned red and she averted her eyes.

  I approached her.

  She rested her hands on the balcony railing.

  "What are you doing out here by yourself?" I asked.

  "Just enjoying the view." She bit her lip.

  I stood next to her.

  "You look deep in thought." I said.

  She turned towards me, but looked down at her shoes.

  I reached out and lifted her chin. "What are you thinking so hard about?"

  She shrugged her shoulders. I gave her two chances to level with me.

  She remained quiet.

  I stared into her eyes. The green danced as it reflected off her dress. The pink tint in her cheeks remained.

  I ran my hand through her hair and on to her shoulder. I squeezed.

  She stiffened.

  I searched her eyes, willing her to be straight with me. My insides flipped. My brain told me to let her tell me in her own time, in her own wa
y, but my heart and my fragile male ego wanted answers.

  "What's going on with you and Garret?" I knew it was the wrong question, in the wrong tone, at the wrong time. I regretted it as soon as it came out of my mouth.

  She sighed and stepped back.

  I followed her.

  She placed a hand on my chest.

  "He wants to pitch a column to Bench Reporter," she said.

  "What does that have to do with you?"

  "He wants me to write it with him."

  "About what?" I stepped back and leaned on the balcony railing. "What could you possibly have to contribute?"

  "Real life experiences."

  "No." I shook my head, not sure what I had said no to.

  "It's not what you think."

  "He wants you to write about us. Our life." I towered over her.

  She maintained her ground and stared up at me.

  "Not going to happen, Callie." I reached for her, but she flinched when I touched her. I dropped my hand.

  "It's not like that. He wants me to write about me, my life." She pleaded.

  "No he doesn't. He could care less about your life. He's just using you to get to me and my friends," I said. Again, knowing it was the wrong thing to say, but I couldn't stop myself.

  "That's not true," she whispered.

  "Thank about it Callie." My chest hurts. "The only reason you're on this guy's. radar is because of me. And, it helps that you're hot and he figures if he can't get a scoop, at least he can fuck you and then he has his story." I held my hand up.

  She stared at it like I might hit her.

  I didn't even believe the words coming out of my mouth, but I was on a roll.

  "That's not true," she yelled and pushed me away.

  "Jesus Callie, why else would the guy be paying so much attention to you?" I pushed my hands in my pockets.

  "Why are you doing this?" she asked.

  I barely heard her.

  "Callie you can't be this naive." I heard myself say. "What do you even see in this guy anyway?"

  She raised her head and tears pooled in her eyes.

  "You know, maybe because he believes in me." Callie dropped her head and backed away from me. "It's more than I can say about my own boyfriend."