Until Then

12. Hayley

TWELVE

Hayley

Noah clears his throat. “We better get this kid his treat and get to the table, I guess.”

I agree and start to shift out of the way.

“Thanks,” he goes on. “With being awesome to Jude. I’m a little protective of the kid. Rees tells me to relax, but believe it or not some people I’ve brought around him say ignorant things.”

A wrinkle gathers over my nose. “Because a child can’t hear?”

“I know, right? I don’t get it. Vienna’s dad was born with the same thing—no auditory nerves—but Jude’s is a little more severe with a few other issues.”

“Well, it’s good he has family who can help him communicate. He’s adorable.”

“He’s basically my favorite human.” Noah grins.

Jude doesn’t stay to watch the movie—Noah explained they just don’t hold his attention well since he doesn’t read captions yet. He’s there for the candy. Once the boy has his bag, he plops his action figure inside, slides the handles over his wrist, takes Noah’s hand, then reaches his other for me.

I pause for a breath, then slowly hold the little boy’s palm. Jude does a strange little gallop.

Noah laughs and leans closer so I can hear. “He wants us to swing him.”

Terrible on the shoulders and elbows, but I can indulge maybe once or twice.

The glee on Jude’s little face when we heave him in the first swing is enough to forget muscle strain and shoulder displacement for a few moments.

When we make it past a small crowd by an appetizer table, Jude takes off. His mom and dad are chatting with a few other couples and kids at a big table.

A warm palm touches my lower back. Noah looks down at me, and nudges me forward.

“Oh, good. You were able to keep Noah’s fingers and mouth from getting sticky,” Rees says to me.

Noah shoots his twin a glare, but turns us to the others on the table. “Hayley, meet Perfectly Broken.”

My breath catches. Rockstars. Rees’s band. I’m meeting real, true, rockstars.

“Bridger, his wife, Alexis, and their two boys who are insane. Yeah, you heard me, Garett.”

A little boy who looks about seven or eight with marker tattoos all over his hands tosses a wrapped chocolate at Noah. Bridger is tattooed much like Rees, but his wife looks like she’s going to bounce out of her seat.

“Hayley, so good to meet you,” she says, reaching over at least five people to shake my hand. “Rees has been telling us everything. Every. Thing.”

“Lex,” Rees said. “You said you’d keep it between us.”

“Rees, do you know my wife at all?” Bridger laughs and tries to avoid a pinch to his arm from Alexis.

“Nothing is sacred between brothers.” Noah sniffs and keeps going with the introductions.

I meet Tate Hawkins, the drummer, his wife Ellie, and their little girls. I’m told the lead guitarist couldn’t make the wedding due to a conflict with another family engagement.

I’m also introduced to Alexis’s brother—a retired MLB pitcher—and his wife.

“Oh, you’re an OT?” She leans forward. “I’m a PT, but emphasized on sports medicine.”

Skye Knight is her name.

“Jude is obsessed with their girl, Ever,” Noah whispers when Skye goes on to explain the differences in physical therapy and occupational therapy to the others.

True enough, Noah’s nephew is seated by a little toddler with curly blonde hair, sharing his new treats. The girl even signs more to him.

My heart cinches. It’s wholly adorable.

Stunt double Carter has a sister there, since she married the former catcher for the Vegas Kings. They seem like opposite siblings. Where Wren Marks is bookish and subtle, Carter seems boisterous and bold.

“These handsome guys are Ryder and Dax.” Noah steps behind the final two men. Both are seated beside pretty wives too. Noah grips both their shoulders. Dax—the darker haired one, I think—laughs. Ryder—the broader, scowley one—swats at him to get off. “They’re the geniuses behind the community outreach through the Kings. They helped me get started with the drama clubs I’ve been running here.”

“Oh.” I shake both their hands. “I think that’s a really great thing.”

Ryder nods, but seems like he doesn’t particularly enjoy being chatty.

“It’s been awesome,” Dax says. “It was Ryder’s idea, but with Noah and other organizations, these outreach clubs have exploded across the country.”

I look at Noah. He’s buried in a conversation with the drummer’s wife. A smile teases the corner of my lips. He seems so at ease with these people, so unaffected by fame and wealth.

This is Noah Hayden.

Just Noah.

I can’t help but like what I see.

Somehow, before I even realize, I fall into conversation with a table of celebrities. Strange, but I almost forget. They are so different from the images life has imprinted in my own mind.

The only reminders come when the band speaks about their tour, or Parker Knight and Ryder talk about coaching. They both still work with their former team.

We eat, toast the new bride and groom, listen to speeches, laugh, and laugh, and laugh. When the floor is opened for dancing, more than one couple at the table joins in.

Noah stands. For half a breath he pauses, then holds his hand out to me. “Dance with me, Wildfire.”

Goodness. Keep making demands of me in that deep rasp and any drop of independent woman will dissolve.

I curl my palm in his and allow him to lead me to the dance floor. Part of me wonders if Noah waited for the music to slow, the other part is singing the man’s praises for it.

“They’re a lot sometimes,” he says against my cheek, voice low. “Didn’t mean to overwhelm you with everyone.”

“They’re amazing,” I admit, a crack to my voice. In truth, this entire evening is toppling most of my preconceived notions about people in their positions. I don’t admit it. To confess the truth about my hesitation toward celebrities and their intentions, will lead to questions, and questions will lead to heartbreaking realities.

I have no intention of spoiling the night.

Noah’s hand is scandalously low on my back, and I don’t care. The longer the song goes on, the closer I press against him.

By the final note, there’s no space between us and I’m forced to arch my neck to look up.

Noah’s blue eye flashes, his brown eye melts me.

Gentle fingers trace the edge of my jaw. “You weren’t a notch.”

“What?” My voice is too rough.

“You believe you would’ve been nothing but a symbolic notch in the bedpost, right? You wouldn’t be. What would’ve happened if I had your number is I would’ve called you. I would’ve annoyed you with memes and funny animal videos all day. I had no intention of saying goodbye to you.”

It’s one of the most heartbreakingly honest speeches. Vulnerable, transparent. I’m captivated.

“I’m sorry.” Finally, at long last, I speak the words. “I didn’t trust you after I found out. I should’ve given you the benefit of the doubt.”

“No. I understand how it took you off guard, I do. But right now, I want you to know the truth of what would’ve happened. I don’t play games, Hayley. I’m not clever enough for them.”

I laugh; it’s thick with emotion. “Memes, huh?”

“So many memes.”

“What else would I have learned if I stuck around, Pretty Boy?”

“I think you’ll run off if I tell you. I’m not cool. At all.”

I place a palm against his heart. “Uncool makes you the coolest. Now, spill.”

Noah tightens his hold on my waist. “Well, you would eventually find out I eat most meals like a three-year-old. My dad says I have an aversion to forks. I have a glass display case in my office filled with Pokémon cards. Probably the coolest thing about me. Oh, and it’s next to my hand painted WarHammer figurines. I’m a late-night documentary enthusiast, and I listen to Norse metal music.”

I laugh, letting my head fall to his shoulder. “I think someone needs to do a spotlight on your collectable cards. Front page of StarWatch Magazine or something.”

“No way. No one sees the cards.” Noah rubs his palm across my back. “Come on, don’t let me be the only uncool one here. Let me have it, Foster. What are the quirks?”

“Fine.” I slide my arm back around his neck and play with the short hair there. “I’m a ranch girl with hay fever and pop allergy meds like they’re Tic-tac’s. I collect adult coloring books but only color half a picture, then still display the books because they’re usually funky.

“I get so into audiobooks, sometimes I catch myself acting out the scenes as I go. And I was such an obedient teenager, my one moment of rebellion ended with me crying and confessing to my mom, then punishing myself by turning over the car keys and cell phone before she could even ask for them.”

Noah laughs. “What was the rebellion?”

“I pierced my belly button, but took it out immediately because I felt so guilty for not asking.”

“Straight to the piercing, huh? My friends tried to get me to smoke freshman year, and I ended up shaking so bad, I practically collapsed on the curb and couldn’t move. My dad was a cop, and when he pulled up in his squad car, I was convinced he was going to haul me away for underage smoking.”

“You didn’t even try it?”

“No.” Noah laughs again. “That’s how much of a rebel I was. Rees made up for it for the both of us, I guess.”

Noah tells me how Rees always carried the persona of the rebellious, bad seed. They were close, but he admits most of their family always treated Rees like he was on the verge of prison for most of his teenage years.

After a small pause, Noah admits he discovered only a few years ago that Rees was his personal shield against high school bullies, always pretending to be Noah when kids wanted to hurt him for being a theater kid.

Respect for his quiet, tattooed rockstar brother rises by ten points by the end of the tale.

We dance to another song, then another.

When it feels like my cheeks might burst into flames, I finally pull back. “Want a drink?”

“I can get them.”

“Bless you.” I slump into a free chair. “I’ll be rolled out of here soon if I have to wear these things a second longer.”

“It’s a good thing you’re partnered with me, then. I have tried and true secrets to curing aches and pains after being mauled on sets for the last nine years. Those feet will be good as new by morning.”

He leaves me with one of those sultry winks and drifts toward the open bar for a few bottled waters.

My pulse flutters. I can’t remember the last time I’ve felt so . . . free.

Yes, I do. Nine months ago, at a café, with a blueberry scone.

“Hi, Hazy.”

Peace dies. Ice fills my veins.

Jasper stands two feet behind me. Tan skin with his dark stubble. Handsome and pompous. His suit is perfectly fitted, and he still wears those gaudy silver rings on every finger.

Lost in the pull of the wedding and Noah, I’d practically forgotten the risk of Jasper being here as a plus one. I’d forgotten I told Briar to concede.

Stupid of me. In this moment, I wish I would’ve encouraged Briar to tell her new sister-in-law to stick her opinions somewhere else. This is Briar’s and Tyrell’s wedding, and my friend has no love for Jasper Barnes.

“Jasper.” I turn away and watch the dance floor, desperate for him to take the hint and leave.

He doesn’t.

“How’ve you been?”

“Fine.”

“Come on, Hazy.”

“Hayley.” I glare at him. “What do you want, Jasper? Where’s your date, or did you find someone else? That’s sort of your thing, right?”

He smirks. “Still mad, I see.”

I sigh with a touch of resignation. “I don’t want to make idle conversation with you, no. But you don’t cross my mind much if that’s what you’re asking.”

My ex’s face hardens, like my admission that he doesn’t impact every minute of my day was an unexpected blow to his ego he hadn’t anticipated. “Listen, I know you avoid this sort of scene, but this is my world, Hazy. Care for some advice if you’re going to be all over Noah Hayden?”

What a jerk. “I’m not all over Noah.”

Jasper leans forward, a familiar expression to his face. The one he always wore when he planned to correct something he found unsatisfactory about me. The one he wore when he wanted to break me a little more. “Are you looking for his help to bring business to the ranch? I know how much it’s struggling.”

He might as well have throat punched me. Once I used to confide in this man about my worries regarding the financial stability of Sweet Cream Ranch.

My grandpa’s medical expenses put Nan in a tough spot, and it isn’t exactly like my therapy is booming. It’s tough to get grants to help people pay for what insurance won’t cover. Donations and investors are equally hard to find.

I’ve wanted to get half the property restored into a working ranch with cattle, crops, anything to help pay the other half. Again, it takes finances. The kind we don’t have.

I glare at Jasper. “Noah knows nothing about the ranch.”

“Then, I don’t know what you’re doing. You’re not going to keep his attention, Haze. Don’t lower yourself by thinking you might. You’re not his type, sorry.”

“Go away, Jasper.” The sting of tears burns behind my eyes.

“I’m saying this to help you. He’s always spotted with lingerie models, Haze.” He gives me the cruel look of false sympathy, as though I’m nothing but a silly, confused child. “If you think he’s not going to wander, you’re being naive.”

I clench my fists over my lap. “It’s pretty pathetic if you think it’s naive to expect your monogamous partner to be loyal. I had no idea your bar was so low, Jasper.”

His cheek twitches. “I’m trying to help you, sweetie.” His eyes scan my body, tears it apart is more like it.

I cross my arms over my chest, a sense of being utterly exposed twists my gut.

Jasper clicks his tongue. “Even dressing like a skank won’t tie him down, Haze. Next time don’t show up with all of you hanging out. It only embarrasses you.”

I can’t breathe. Never in our years together did Jasper say something so . . . so derogatory.

“Hey, baby. I got your water.” A warm mouth presses to my neck. Shivers dance up my arms. Noah sits in the chair at my side and encircles my shoulders, tugging me close into his body.

My brow arches. He merely kisses the place behind my ear.

I’m speechless, utterly confused, but take the cold bottled water.

Noah lifts a smug, almost irritated look at Jasper. “I’m Noah. Who are you? And why do you think you have the right to tell my girl how to dress?”

Thoughts speed through my mind faster than I can track them. The only reason I catch Noah’s subtle wink is because I can’t tear my eyes off him.

I’m too stunned he’s saying this.

In front of my ex.

He’s acting. Lying. And I can’t decide if I’m unnerved how easily he can slip into a role or how grateful I am to him for shutting Jasper’s cruel mouth.

Jasper’s face twists in both stun and anger. “Jasper Barnes. Writer for Lambast Studios.”

“Huh.” Noah leans back in the chair, his arm still around me, and his fingers gently trace the skin of my arm. “They write good thrillers. Didn’t answer my last question, though.”

“I’m sorry.” Jasper waves one hand. “You two are?—”

“Together. Going on, what is it, baby? Six months, now?”

“No.” Jasper cracks one knuckle. “I just saw you with Eden Vaugn.”

“Oh, you mean you saw a meeting with a potential guest star, who used the opportunity to gain some clout by raving about a made-up relationship?” Noah’s lip curled. “You work in this life, don’t you know by now not to believe everything you see online, Jasper?”

What was he doing?

The way Jasper’s face flushes, I no longer care. I ought to correct this entire charade. Instead, I sink into Noah’s side like he’s a shield against reality.

“You’re together?” Jasper shakes his head like it’s utterly unbelievable. Then he looks at me. “Hayley?”

Speak. Now, it’s my turn to speak. To lie. I nod and squeak out a simple, “Yep.”

Noah grins, using one knuckle to tilt my chin.

He kisses me. Slow, sweet, and deep.

I’m not certain if this is part of the game, but I wouldn’t mind playing it well into tomorrow.

Until the flash of a camera goes off and Noah yanks back.

By the time my eyes snap open, two security guards are already rushing the guy in a dark suit. He’s holding a camera and beelining it toward the doors. Guests watch in stun as security calls him a paparazzi and Tempest joins in with her boss, ranting about watching windows and doors to keep the cameras out.

Jasper chuckles and sips from his glass. “Well, if you weren’t official before tonight, I’d say you will be in about thirty minutes after he sells that photo.”

Noah’s face is pale, but he hides it under an easy smile. “Had to happen eventually.”

I feel like the walls are too close, they’re spinning.

We glance at each other. I tug on his hand. “Excuse us, Jasper. I need to speak with my boyfriend .”