Until Then

22. Hayley

TWENTY-TWO

Hayley

Noah hasn’t been himself.

Call it a feeling in my gut, but even while I’ve been out of town, his texts, his voice on calls, it doesn’t have the bright sweetness he normally carries.

“It’s stress, kid.” Justin grunts from the front seat of the truck when he catches me glancing at my phone for the tenth time in twenty minutes. “The guy’s about to start work, right?”

“Yeah.” Milton nods. “He’s probably one of those method guys, you know. Gets in the mood.”

Maybe. Somehow I don’t think this new melancholy has anything to do with Noah’s method acting.

I texted him this morning to tell him I missed him. Then, sent him a video of the horses we were keeping our eyes on, asking his opinion. In turn, I received a row of heart hand emojis. Then a text he had a meeting and would call me later. He didn’t even end it in his trademark Until then .

I didn’t take the message as dismissive, more like it was almost . . . distracted.

Don’t be that girl. I sigh and let my head fall back against the seat and watch the flat fields fly past the truck.

Noah doesn’t need me to tell him his texts aren’t good enough. For goodness sakes, we’ve only been truly dating for not even three weeks. It’s not like I love him . . .

Right?

I close my eyes. Perhaps we’ve been dating for a short time, but the man has been in my head for much longer. He never left, not after the first night.

Once again, I take out my phone and find the contact I need. Maybe I really like him, maybe it’s more that I love him, but right now I’m worried about him.

Me: Hey Vienna. I wanted to do something to cheer Noah up if he’s getting overwhelmed with filming coming up. He seems a little stressed. Any ideas?

I know the band is doing a big event in Manhattan this week, but Vienna is usually the one to text updates and pictures during shows. She’s close with Noah and would likely know if something deeper is going on.

Vienna: I think the best thing you could do is surprise him in lingerie.

I snort a messy laugh, loud enough to draw Uncle Milton’s gaze.

Me: Um, okay. I was thinking his favorite take-out, but I’ll leave my options open. I’m sure he’s just stressed because filming is about to start.

Vienna: Could be. I’ll have Rees text him when the show’s over. Twin senses, you know? Sometimes they just know things. But if he tells you anything let us know.

Me: Thanks. Will do.

“We’re here.”

The truck comes to a halt in front of another arena. One more horse auction, then we’ll leave for home.

I’m more than ready to see Noah for myself. Once I lay eyes on the man, no doubt, this boiling disquiet will fade.

“Well, sometimes they’re a bust.” Milton heaves a saddle into the tack chamber on the horse trailer. “I was aiming for that gray mare.”

He clicks his tongue, disappointed for being outbid.

I always loved coming with my grandpa and uncles and Justin to the horse auctions. This one, my head isn’t in it. Thoughts are stuck somewhere back in California. Maybe in a top-floor condo with an ocean view.

Still, failing our bid within the first ninety minutes, means we’re on the road sooner. I practically leap into the truck once everything is loaded, anxious to get home.

“Wonder why Hayley’s so ready to go.” Milton chuckles and settles into the front seat again.

Justin merely grunts. It’s his love language.

We make it an hour before my phone buzzes with a new text. A bit of disappointment weighs on my shoulders when it’s not from Noah.

The feeling only deepens when it’s from Jasper. I deleted his number long ago, but it’s one of those with a different area code; I still know it's him.

Unknown: I thought you were more mature, Hazy. Spreading rumors to Tyrell about me? Maybe I really liked Amberlyn.

I re-read the text a few times before deciding the jerk doesn’t deserve a response.

Another five minutes and a text comes again.

Unknown: Leave me on read, it’s fine. At least I’ll know you’ll see this. Thought you’d want to know your man might’ve had those ulterior motives you accused me of having, after all.

A video message loads and my heart stops.

Jasper must be somewhere in the corner of a restaurant if I had to guess. From the angle, he’s being a creep, but clearly filming Noah’s side profile. The camera in the video shifts to get a look at the man across the table.

No. Blood drains from my face. Seated two feet away from my boyfriend is Shane. My father is a handsome man. I know some of my own features belong to him, but the sight of him still leaves me spinning in anger and heartache.

The clip is only ninety seconds. Shane’s face is cold as he speaks to Noah.

I don’t hear what they say, but I take note of Noah’s stiff posture. From where he’s being filmed, I can make out his fist curled over his knee.

He’s uneasy. He doesn’t know the truth. Or does he?

Jasper wants me to believe Noah’s using me for my dad when he’s the one who made certain Noah was drawn into the sights of Shane Holston by sending Colt’s video. Now he’s, what? Stalking him? Jasper’s a jealous, entitled idiot. He used me for my dad’s influence, and never got the notice he wanted.

He’s trying to paint Noah the same. The trouble with his attempt is Noah has never mentioned Shane Holston. Never. He has no idea.

At least he didn’t.

Tears sting behind my eyes. No doubt he’s being blindsided right now, likely wondering why I kept the truth from him. Mom warned me, and I never found the spine to admit it.

“Hayley Mae.” My uncle’s sharp tone snaps me from the video. His face is twisted in concern. “What’s got you breathing like you’re about to burst out in tears.”

I blink, thoughts spinning. “Shane found Noah.”

“What? Give me that.”

Somewhere in my daze, my uncle takes my phone and watches the clip.

“He didn’t know,” I whisper. “Noah didn’t know.”

“Hey, look at me,” Milton demands. “Whatever this deadbeat is saying, the kid is smart enough to know the truth for himself, okay?”

“What does he want?” I say, voice rough. “Why can’t he just . . . stay gone? He never wanted to be in my life, so why does he keep inserting himself in small ways?”

“Because he’s a selfish man who’s obsessed with making his overinflated ego known,” Justin grumbles.

“I need to text Noah. Try to explain.”

“Sweetheart, you don’t even know what they’re saying.”

I blink and a single tear falls onto my cheek. “I know, but I kept it from him. Jasper set this up, and I have no doubt Shane knows exactly who Noah is to me. It’s like he wants to keep me down and keep taking from me.”

I hate him for hating me.

I didn’t ask to be born, yet he resents me for taking my first breath.

“Hayley,” Milton says, his voice softer than before. “Don’t let this get into your head too much. You don’t know what’s going on. Shane might’ve seen the kid because of your loser ex, true. But it might truly be for a job. Nothing more.”

Maybe it’s true. Still, I need to speak to Noah. Explain why I kept it a secret.

My thumbs shake as I send the text.

Me: Noah, Jasper sent a video of you meeting with Shane Holston. Please call me. I can explain. He’s my dad, Pretty Boy, but he’s not part of my life for good reason. Call me, please.

For ten minutes my stomach twists into angry, wretched knots.

They don’t ease when, at long last, Noah sends me a message.

Pretty Boy: I messed up, Wildfire. I never wanted negative attention to fall on you or your family, but I didn’t keep my end of the deal. I think you might want to stay away from me for now. You deserve more.

I try to call him. It rings twice, then goes to his chipper voicemail. I call again. His phone is shut off.

I hug my middle and let another tear fall.

Whatever happened, the man I’m positive I’m in love with, all at once, doesn’t want to see me.