Starstruck (Heartstrings Duet #1)

14. resist temptation

[ 14 ]

RESIST TEMPTATION

LENNON

“STAY AWAY” BY THE HONORARY TITLE

I could’ve been nicer.

I really didn’t even mean to be such a bitch, and if I’m being honest with myself, I didn’t mean half of what I said. I was just shocked to find Jeremy ambushing me with Baxter. When I saw him, all my defenses went up, and the truth is better left unsaid. I’m sure he would be a great headliner, and I feel guilty knowing his mom was also killed by a drunk driver. But that doesn’t change the gut feeling that including him would only lead to trouble.

Still, I could’ve been nicer.

Everything I heard about Baxter before we met was that he’s a stuck-up asshole who only cares about himself. And sure, he may be slightly full of himself, and he can be selfish, but can’t everyone? He’s been nothing but friendly to me—maybe even too friendly sometimes—even when I’m an absolute bitch to him.

My shoulders drop as I enter my office, replaying the look on his face when I insinuated that having him there would fuck up everything. He looked genuinely hurt, and I can’t decide if he was playing me or if my words really did have an impact on him.

Either way, it doesn’t change the fact that he’s not a good choice for this concert. My reasons for thinking that may be purely selfish at this point, but I’m in too vulnerable a state to risk getting close to him when I know that would only end badly.

“God, why does this have to be so complicated?” I grumble to myself as I stare blankly at the list of names in front of me. At the very least, I can try to schedule some other acts, even if I still don’t have a headliner.

I pull up the schedule, re-examining who I already have. I’ve secured a good mix of genres, and I’d like to keep it that way, so on the master list of names I put a star next to anyone who would be a good fit for the show.

I only need four more performers aside from the headliner. I’m still waiting to hear back from some of the managers I’ve reached out to, so I have quite a few acts with a question mark beside them. Deciding my best option right now would be to follow-up on those, I make some calls, hoping at least one of them will agree.

I dial the number for Sage Whitman’s manager and put the phone to my ear. The dial tone rings a few times before someone finally answers.

“Harrison Lark.”

“Hi, Harrison. This is Lennon Thorne from Revolution Records calling. I just wanted to follow-up about my request to have Sage Whitman perform at my benefit concert in August.”

“Ah, Lennon! So sorry I haven’t gotten back to you sooner—I’ve been dealing with a nightmare client, and it slipped my mind.” He pauses, exhaling. “I spoke with Sage, and she said she would be happy to do the show. You said it’s the twenty-fourth, right?”

Trying to keep from squealing in excitement, I say, “Yes, that’s correct.”

He’s silent for a moment before he adds, “That’s perfect. Sage gets back from her European tour on the twentieth, so she’ll be good to go.”

“Really?” My face aches from the smile filling it. “That’s amazing, thank you so much.”

“No, thank you , Lennon. Drunk driving is a huge epidemic in today’s society, and I’m happy to see someone trying to do something to stop it. I know your parents would love it.”

“Thank you, Harrison. That means a lot to me. I’ll be in touch closer to the date once I have the final schedule to let you know all the details.”

“Sounds good, Lennon. Talk soon.”

After we hang up, I spin my chair in a circle, relief flooding through me. Sage is an artist I’ve worked with for publishing in the past, and having her at the show is huge.

Focusing my attention back on the task at hand, I remove the question mark from beside her name. Then I make a few more calls, praying the rest will go the same way.

By the time I finish, all but two artists have been confirmed. I now have Sage and Jett Phoenix, one of Revolution’s hard rock artists, added to the list. I’m still waiting to hear from Hear the Echoes and The Lighthouse, but I have high hopes that they’ll agree.

So all that’s left now is a headliner.

The problem is, aside from Baxter, there really aren’t any big artists left who I haven’t already contacted. And I’m sure this is a result of what happened in Jeremy’s office, but as I scan the list of artists, my eyes keep catching on his name.

It’s crossed out, simply for the fact that I don’t want him to headline, but each day that passes that I don’t find someone is one day closer to thinking he is my best bet.

He’s the biggest name in rock and roll, and though his reputation is similar to that of everyone else on the list of potential headliners when it comes to destructive behaviour, he also has the most going for him on the good side of things—his musical genius (don’t tell him I said that), charisma, and his overall contributions to the rock community make people love him, even when he makes bad decisions.

But fuck, I really don’t want to see him again. Or at least that’s what I keep telling myself. The truth is, I do want to see him again—I just worry about what will happen if I do.

The only thing I know for certain is that he’s a dangerous choice. It’s not just his reputation that worries me, because honestly, that’s a pretty easy workaround. What worries me more is how if I spend more time around him, I’m going to let him in even more than I did that night we spent together. The last thing I need right now is to get attached to someone when I’m still grieving my parents. And I know myself. There’s no way I’ll be able to spend any time around him and not let him in further.

I didn’t even mean to share what I did with him all those weeks ago, but he was easy to talk to. He somehow managed to break a row of bricks down from my very tall walls, making me feel a little bit less alone. He acknowledged my pain and helped me forget about all the terrible things going on in my life, even if just for one night. He didn’t judge me or get frustrated when I spilled my guts to him—instead, he asked more questions and was genuinely interested in listening to my answers.

He made me feel understood in a way I haven’t in a long, long time.

He made me feel seen .

And I know if I were to see him again, the same thing would happen. If he were to headline for this concert, there’s simply no way I would be able to keep my distance. And in typical me fashion, I know I would end up falling for him. I’m a hopeless romantic. It doesn’t take much for me to dream up a perfect relationship.

The thing is, Baxter is the opposite. Yes, he joked about being friends with benefits, but in his thirteen years as a famous rock star, he has never been seen with the same woman twice. He’s a total playboy, and getting people to let him in is just part of his charm.

Falling for him is a surefire way to get my heart broken, and I made a promise to myself that I wouldn’t do that again. Loving people leads to losing them, and I can’t lose anybody else.

So I need to try to find somebody— anybody —else who can headline.

For the sake of saving myself more heartbreak, I need to stay away from Baxter James.