Playing Autumn (Breathe Rockstar Romance Book 1) (24 page)

“Yeah, and maybe you can tell me what actually happened.”

Haley shook her head, knowing Cass wouldn’t see it. “Only the stuff you need to know about.”

“I’ll see you soon.”

“Bye, Cass.”

“Well,” Victoria said from her place at the other end of the lobby couch, taking a break from her post-festival paperwork. “That wasn’t so bad.”

“I can’t be mad at her,” Haley sighed. “She’s been consistent, at least. You know it was her idea that I start dating Logan, right?”

“You ever wonder if
she
’s actually into him?”

Haley shrugged. “I would like nothing more than speculate about someone else’s relationship, yes.”

“But don’t change the subject. You and Oliver, yes? Your kiss was the talk of the city last night. He trended briefly on Twitter or something.”

Oh, that. In a word, yes. So that Sunday concert was another highlight in her Breathe Music collection of moments. He stayed in her room after and this morning watched her pack. (Oliver himself didn’t need to pack, apparently, as he hadn’t unpacked at all.)

“Let’s say I’m happy I didn’t skip this year,” Haley said. She didn’t dwell further on this being her last. “Thanks for being so pushy. He told me that you told him not to hurt my feelings, or whatever.”

“I had to say it. Not that I’m judging any irrational decisions you’re making right now. Are you making irrational decisions right now?”

Well, she laid down the terms, didn’t she? Enjoy the weekend, and leave it at that. No strings, no expectations. It seemed absolutely rational.

And also a bummer.

“I’m the opposite of irrational,” Haley said. “I told him not to contact me after this. Ever.”

Victoria whistled. “Harsh.”

“I don’t want him calling out of pity.”

“Pity? Where’d that come from? He seems like a decent person, you know. What if he likes you?”

Was this Victoria? Or did someone swap her with a kinder soul? “I thought you didn’t want me to get hurt.”

“Hey! I didn’t expect you to use him for sex and then forbid him to call you.”

“You’re terrible.”

“You know what you’re doing, right? This is what you want?”

That was the question, wasn’t it? Haley didn’t know what to tell her.

***

Victoria’s parting gift: she had booked Haley and Oliver on the same flight back. To Tampa, at least. From there, Oliver would get another flight to JFK.

“We should sit together,” Haley offered as soon as they got out of the car, because he hadn’t said a word about it on the drive over to IAH. “You know, because of your fear.”

“It’s not a fear,” he said automatically. “But thank you. Sure.”

They didn’t get to talk much during the ninety-minute wait for their flight because Oliver was recognized at the boarding gate. He posed for photos, signed things, and had a series of short conversations about the exact same thing (why he was in Houston, was he touring, was he going back to NYC) at least five times. She picked a seat and watched him be a star and tried to tell herself that this was the world turning itself back upright. He would resume his place under the spotlight, and she would finish her obligations to Mrs. Lee and her daughter and then figure out what was next. Whatever it was, music would be involved in it. She couldn’t go back home and act like this was a failed experiment.

Small steps. Plans to make. The hope was back, and if she had given a little bit of it to Mia, then she must have caught some herself.

“Sorry about that,” he said, joining her as they began to board. “Hometown thing.”

They settled into their seats, her at the window and him in the middle. It wasn’t a full flight; no one else took the aisle seat. Haley was surprised how this, the cramped coach seat and the flimsy armrest, seemed not close enough all of a sudden. She wanted to nuzzle his neck and nip at his shoulder.

It helped a little that he was looking at her like he wanted to do all of it too, but that also reminded her why they shouldn’t.

“Hey,” he said once they were cruising in the air and allowed to unfasten their seat belts. “Can we talk about something?”

“No,” she said. “Just listen to your strange music.”

“You’re serious? What if I want to talk to you about…music? Collaborating on something? Because I think we can, and –”

“No,” she said emphatically. “You think I’d want to
talk
about music
after this? Come on.”

“Then we don’t just talk about music. We do whatever you want.”

In the brief moment that she allowed herself to think about it, a world of what-ifs flooded in. But she knew what those were: fantasies. Not real.

“We can’t,” Haley said, taking a stand and wishing she didn’t have to.
Stop teasing me. Let me do this in a way that seems real.
“This was a fun weekend, but we have lives to go back to now.”

He was quiet for what seemed like a long time. “Fine,” he said finally. “I get it.”

Huh
. It was a tug of war, and she didn’t expect him to let go of the rope like that. “Well, good.”

“No, I get it.” Oliver fumbled for the plastic pack of airline-issued earphones and busied himself with unraveling them for use. “You actually think what happened this weekend isn’t part of your real life. Because that’s how you’ve thought all of your life—music, and this festival, and me, we’re intrusions into the life you actually need to live.”

He didn’t get it at all. She was in fact going to
start
a life with more music in it, just in a more
realistic
way—

Didn’t she share that epiphany with him? As she tried to form the words, he settled back in his seat, apparently satisfied with his train of thought.

“What I think you need, Haley? Is to realize that this is it. This is life. There is no real one, no fake one, no weekend-diversion one. It’s all real, all of it, everything we did, and now you have to deal with it. But that’s how I live, right? I just do stuff. Everything’s real to me. That’s how I’ve done everything. That’s how I made things happen.”

“That’s how you lost so much,” Haley said.

Oh god. She didn’t mean it that way.

Something changed in his face, in the light in his eyes. “Better to have lived and lost, then, than—well, you know how it goes. But maybe that’s how a loser thinks.”

“You’re not a loser.”

He smiled, but his thoughts were elsewhere already, she could see it. “I’m on my way back to the middle.”

The earphones came on. He reached over to use the music port on her seat, letting their hands brush against each other sometimes, but that was it. Conversation apparently over. They didn’t speak again throughout the flight.

At TPA, he pulled her toward him and dropped a light and quick kiss on her mouth before he headed on to his connection.

“You…good luck.” Because she was so smooth like that.

“I don’t see music the same way you do,” Oliver said. “You think it’s this thing leading you on.
I
think it’s part of me. I don’t get to cut it off or decide to attach it back. Maybe you need to think of it that way.”

“Oliver…”

“I promise not to call you.” He interrupted her then, maybe unintentionally, but she didn’t have a reply anyway. “Goodbye, Hot Piano Girl.”

It was exactly what she wanted him to say, wasn’t it? It was the rational thing to do.

And it sucked.

Chapter 31

A month, or so, later

Sophie was easily the best at her recital. Those were fighting words, and maybe not so reliable coming from her own music tutor, but Haley was going to stand by them. Though it was Sophie's night, Haley's confidence was at an all-time high too, ever since Mia from Breathe Music sent her a video of a recent performance where she was finally being herself. It was at an actual open mic night downtown, so for that alone Haley had to give her props. Still a little rough around the edges, but already so much better.

She would not say the same about Sophie, whose edges were polished and smooth as they could be. The girl was actually going to be a doctor one day, but she spent her Saturdays studying classical piano at the conservatory and practiced every day at home. Sometimes when Haley was too focused on her job, she would forget about how determined her student was. This was a lot of hard work, but the girl seemed to enjoy it. And it showed.

The Lee family wanted to go out to celebrate but Haley politely begged off, saying that she had a lot of packing to do. A white lie; she had like a pair of jeans and tennis shoes left to stuff into her bag, but she didn't feel like causing any awkwardness. It was Sophie's big night, and she didn't want them to have to talk about the fact that she was leaving the next day.

When Haley returned from Houston, she and Mrs. Lee had a longer, more direct talk about the future. Mrs. Lee explained that she wanted Sophie to focus on early admissions and didn’t mind having her cut back on piano hours; something had to give. Haley understood that completely. It had been different for the older daughter, who planned to study music in college and needed to practice all the way up to graduation. Once they had decided on what Sophie’s path would be, they had told Haley right away, and she had to appreciate that.

Haley was dropped off at the mansion, and she made her way through the garden to the pool house. It was a long walk because the property was huge. There was a golf cart that Haley could have used to get there faster, but it was a walking kind of night.

So Sophie rocked her Bach, and Haley was proud as ever, but her mind was also somewhere else, about six hundred and fifty miles off. It was also the night of Oliver's New Orleans show. Already happening, or possibly nearly over.

She knew about it, of course. She
was
still subscribed to the newsletter, and she saw the updates from the usual fan groups. It looked like a smaller show, a fraction of the audience he used to command, but it was work and he seemed to be getting into it.

There was also the surprise friendship with Trey that got the forums abuzz again; they were spotted hanging out in Manhattan together. People were speculating what Oliver was getting (the underage) Trey into. Alcohol? Fighting? Were they actually planning to work together?

Dear God, not a song together
, someone in the Olivette group had posted.
Let my memories of lusting after him not be defiled by this.

Hah. She missed that community sometimes. She also wondered what was up with them. The last newsletter had a link about
Tomorrow’s Talent
getting a “shortened season” order. Some people’s lives got to stay how they were for a little while longer.

She wouldn't know for sure, because she actually kept her word and cut off all contact with Oliver. And then when she found out that New Orleans was the same night as Sophie's night…Haley figured that fate had decided things for them. She wasn't going to be doing a grand rush to his stage, swooning over his music, kissing him in front of everybody. No, she was going to be alone in her pool house, zipping up luggage.

Oliver had tried to contact her a few times. First there were text messages, simple hellos, emphasizing that since he had promised not to call, texts didn’t count. And then there were calls. She kept his number on her phone so she would know not to pick up when it rang. He called the week he returned to New York, and then the week after that, but she figured he was just being polite. Not wanting to seem like the douche who wouldn't call, even though he promised he wouldn’t. Well, missed calls noted. Points awarded. What a tease.

They had a wonderful and odd weekend together, but she wasn't going to demand anything more. She didn't know what she was going to ask for, anyway. She wished him well as Sophie was playing, knowing that he was too.

She wondered what his playlist would be. She used to know and keep track.

Haley sighed now, a loud one, as she walked the length of the backyard tennis court. She thought about him
a lot.
She wore out the play button in her mind reviewing their highlights: kisses, licks, positions…

Sometimes she thought she imagined everything. But no, she was never that explicit in her daydreams. So she ended with concluding that it had to have been real, but not lasting.

Her flight to Houston was set, and as far as her parents knew, she was going back for Thanksgiving. She was going to have to break the joblessness to them eventually. The thought was making her uncomfortable, but she wasn't as scared about it anymore.