Hidden in the Stars (Falling Stars #2) (40 page)

"Keep the cameras off the boys." Jackson's hand covers a lens pointed in the boys’ direction.

The cameraman nods sheepishly, turning the camera back to our united front.

"Are you two a couple?" a young, dark-skinned man asks.

"Isn't that a violation of your twelve steps?" A petite blonde woman pushes by the man.

"Liza?"

My eyes snap to a round man.

"Did you know Jackson was with Kristy when you started seeing him?"

My lips part on a gasp and eyes widen in surprise.

"I wasn't with Kristy when I met Liza," Jackson growls. "That was over before I came to L.A.."

He pulls me tighter to his side.

"Yes, we're a couple, and, no, I'm not violating one of the steps."

Jackson pulls out a key tag and holds it up for the reporters. They snap photos of him holding the tag stating his sobriety. I wrap my arms around his waist.

"What do you have to say about the abuse rumors?"

Jackson tenses and I act.

"If you're referring to me, then they are entirely false," I state.

"How do you feel about being kicked off the show due to your relationship with Jackson?" The petite blonde slings her question.

"The show really wasn't for me, but I wish the contestants well."

I smile and the cameras click.

"Do you have any comment about the article Cheyenne Post released online this morning?" Another journalist steps forward.

"I…I don't know about an article," I stutter, swallowing hard.

What the hell is being said now?

"She states in the article she expects big things from a woman with the caliber of talent you hold and she's disappointed in the narrow-minded suits running the show."

The man shoves his recorder closer toward me.

"Cheyenne Post said that?" Jackson asks in disbelief.

The man nods emphatically.

"I thank her for the kind words," is the only response I can think to give.

Almost ten minutes later, we walk away from the group of reporters. I keep looking over my shoulder.

"They aren't following," I whisper.

"Good," Jackson replies.

"I didn't think they would actually do it."

"Do what?" He guides me toward Sid and Kel.

"Listen to you." I step up on the bleachers and settle next to Sid.

"It only happens occasionally." Going up one bleacher higher, Jackson sits behind me and stretches his long legs on either side of my body.

Sid puts her arm on his knee and leans.

"Thanks," she says, keeping her eyes on the field of practicing players, "these metal things hurt my ass."

Jackson doesn't pull his leg away or push her off. Instead, he pulls me back into his body, perfectly at ease and ready to cheer on Sean and Lucas.

For the first time in my life, I understand epic romance movie moments. My heart thuds, my chest feels so full—almost too full—and every inch of my skin tingles with a pleasant burn.

After the game and awards, we lounge around the penthouse living space. Sean and Lucas sit in the oversized bean bag chairs they’ve claimed, playing a racing game on the TV. Kel lies stomach down, head toward the end of the couch cushion. He watches the boys play their game, dozing off and on. Jackson slouches against the curve of the sofa, one leg stretched along the cushions and the other bent at the knee with his foot on the floor. Lying between his legs, on my side, head resting on his thigh, I'm still amazed by the length of his body.

Having been talking off and on with Una regarding the videos and information she's found so far, Sid makes her way over and plops onto the couch.

"Una's going to be calling you," she says, getting situated against the overstuffed cushions.

"Why couldn't she just tell you?" Jackson asks, his head back and eyes closed.

"Dunno," Sid answers, but her interest is already on the video game. "I've got next winner."

Lucas and Sean groan in unison.

"Sid, you'll be on for the rest of the night," Sean whines.

"So?" She shrugs.

"So, we want to play together, too."

"Well, your mother should've bought more than two controllers," she snips.

The vibration from Jackson's phone travels through the couch before it rings.

"It's probably Una," Sid says, distracted. "Lucas, you missed the nitro launch."

Jackson shifts, trying to get his phone from his back pocket. I attempt to move out of his way, but his free hand presses my head back to his thigh.

Reaching his phone, he answers, "Yeah?"

"Wait, it's not my—”

Lifting my head, I watch Jackson roll his eyes. Pulling his phone from his ear, he presses it to his chest.

"Where's your phone?" he asks.

Reaching over the edge of the couch, I pull my phone from my bag and hand it to him.

Putting his own phone back to his ear, he says, "Shut up for two seconds," before reading off a phone number.

"Why are you giving out my number?" Sid questions with an edge to her tone.

He ignores her and continues talking to the person on the other end of his call.

"Well, it's your own damn fault," he lectures, tossing my phone to the empty cushion next to him. "No, but I'll definitely ask Red for the photos." He disconnects, dropping the phone next to mine.

Sid's phone vibrates across the counter next to her geek station.

She turns and looks at the phone like it might bite her.

"That will be Xave." Jackson winks. "Good luck with that, he's known for his revenge schemes. You can ask Chris about them."

"You bastard," she hisses. "Why would you give that overgrown ginger-jack my number?"

"Because I'm not your receptionist. You two handle your shit. I've got my own to worry about," he says, giving her a pointed look before putting his head back on the couch.

The phone vibrates again, but Sid ignores it.

"Looks like I'll be changing my number," she grumbles.

"What did you do?" Kel asks from his prone position.

She shrugs. "Nothing."

"Bullshit," Jackson snorts.

"What did she do?" I ask this time.

"He was in that closet last night." He rubs his eyes.

Whipping my head back to Sid, eyes wide, I find a small grin on her face.

"You didn't?"

She shrugs again.

Kel chuckles.

"He had it coming," she defends. "Did he," she points at Jackson, "tell you how his buddy was up my ass all night talking about how pretty and sexy he thinks I am?" she scoffs like it's impossible for someone to believe that very thing.

"Sid," I warn, shifting my eyes to the boys, but a part of me aches for her. Nothing and no one can get it through her head that she
is
pretty and sexy. I've tried so many times.

Her mouth drops open. "He just said bullshit." She stabs a finger at Jackson.

"Good point," I nod, "you both need to watch your mouths."

"Will do, baby." Jackson's fingers find my hair.

Sid sighs when her phone vibrates again and pushes up from the couch.

"I guess I should just get this over with."

She marches away and disappears with her phone.

"Good luck, Sid," Kel calls after her, earning him a middle finger salute.

He laughs.

"What else did she do?"

Jackson's laughter shakes me before he answers with, "She teased him into the closet, shoved him inside, handcuffed him to the hanger pole," he pauses to laugh harder, "and then," he gasps, "then she pushed a bra into his mouth."

My and Kel's laughter joins his.

"Whew," Jackson blows out a breath. "We literally walked out just after she did it all. Red has pictures."

"I'm not going to even lie. It totally sounds like something she would do." Propping up on my elbow, I glance up to his smiling face. "Actually, he's lucky she didn't take his pants first."

He raises one brow, questioningly.

Shaking my head, I lie down in his lap.

"You don't want to know, man." Kel turns back to the TV.

The next morning doesn't go as smoothly as I'd like, but it being the first time for the school routine, I suppose it could've gone worse. Kel rides in the car driving the boys to school so I have peace of mind.

I arrange the dirty dishes in a dishwashing machine so clean, I almost feel sorry for filling it with food covered plates and cups.

"You know a cleaning lady comes in right?"

Looking up from the dishwasher, I find Jackson leaning against the fridge. His arms crossed over his naked chest, he looks like he's posing for a magazine.

"It's weird having someone clean up after us." I look around the kitchen. "I feel like I should clean before she comes to clean."

Laughing, he shakes his head.

"'Cause that's not crazy," he teases, pushing off the stainless steel appliance and stalking toward me.

Backing up a step for every one he takes, my butt hits the counter.

"What?" I furrow my brow.

"Una called this morning," he confesses, placing his hands to the counter on either side of me.

"And?" I press.

"Kristy will be back in L.A. at the end of the week."

He lifts a hand to my hair, twirling a strand around one long finger, studying his actions.

"She's agreed to meet me at the hotel." His eyes move to mine. "Una has her thinking I want to talk."

"Well, you do."

"Yeah, but not the way she's thinking." He grins.

"Ah," I say, nodding, finally catching his meaning.

Great. I'm sure the skank will come wearing nothing but a smile.

"Chris texted right after the call, telling me he would be there, which means all of the guys will probably follow. Probably the girls, too."

"Okay." I nod.

Emotions ranging from hate and anger, to fear and anxiousness war inside me.

"Will you be there?" he asks, licking his pierced lip.

If I see her, I'm afraid I'll beat the shit out of her.

"If you want me—"

"Of course I want you there," he interrupts in a raised voice.

I flinch.

"Sorry," he softens. "You know I want you around, right?"

His eyes search mine.

"I think so."

"You need to know so," he states. "Do you want to be there?" he asks.

Nodding, I answer, "Yes."

But think,
it will take all my strength not to break her face.

"Okay, then you'll be there."

Releasing my hair, he cups my face.

"Are you okay around the bands?"

"You mean Laney?"

"Partially," he inclines his head, "but I want you to be comfortable with them all."

"They've been nothing but nice." I shrug. "But I don't really know them yet."

"And Laney?" he presses.

"She seems really happy for you."

He runs his thumb over my cheek.

"That surprises you."

"Honestly, I didn't expect anything. I didn't plan on standing in your penthouse kitchen this morning."

A grin splits his face.

"But you are." Keeping the smile, he sticks his tongue through his teeth.

"Yeah, I am." I beam up at him.

"You stay'n in my kitchen?" he asks, his face moving closer.

"I thought we are seeing how things go?"

I press my hands to his chest, sliding my arms up to his shoulders.

"I'll just take that as a yes."