Track 10: Even Keel
“I try to stay steady,
I try to stay stable.
But you crush me like a hurricane.”
I AGED TWO YEARS IN those few days since western Pennsylvania when my heart had been patched together all wonky. Like an engine that kept turning over, Zach managed to keep me both at arm’s length yet right on the brink of letting whatever was between us roar to life.
There was still uneasiness between us, but the way he held me that morning brought us to an unsteady truce—one that would be easily toppled by any further mention of what happened after we left the Rep Room.
I grabbed a shower right after we checked into our hotel and collapsed onto the bed, towel still wrapped around my hair, and half-asleep even though it was only eight o’clock.
“You better still be awake,” Tay admonished, grabbing her toiletry bag and disappeared back into the bathroom. “I have to talk to you about this weekend. About Zach.”
Ugh. No. The last thing I needed was more incentive to have him show up in my dreams.
“Not now,” I mumbled against the pillow that I’d already started to drool on. “I’m sleeping.”
“Well, then consider this me talking to you in your dreams,” she retorted.
“I believe that’s called a nightmare,” I shot back, smiling as I heard her chuckle.
Too early for bed. Prying my eyes back open, I pushed myself up as Tay walked back into the room with her business face on and the news of what my ‘day off’ had turned into.
“You know this has to move forward at some point and tomorrow is the perfect opportunity.” Her arms folded over her chest like the stern schoolmistress that she was.
I groaned.
“Don’t give me that. Things seem to be better after last weekend, right?”
We were in the Big Apple for an extra day before the two scheduled shows—an extra day that happened to be the day before Valentine’s Day. And apparently, it went without question (at least in Bruce’s mind) that it would be a necessary opportunity for Zach and me to be seen out and around the city doing couple-like activities.
“The whole day?” I clarified, trying to swallow my apprehensive gasp. I had to stifle my desire to push… my desire for him… for a whole day? She better be packing extra underwear in my purse for that.
This Valentine’s Day was just one giant reminder of all my failed relationships. Spending a whole day with Zach, taunted by how much I wanted him, was bad enough. The fact that it was on Valentine’s Day weekend was like rubbing salt in the open would of my heart. Sharp. Painful. I wish I could at least say that it would cleanse it and help it heal, but I knew it wouldn’t.
“Blay…” she drawled, giving me the ‘you-need-to-do-this’ eye. “All in public. All for the cameras. And you’ll be all bundled up in the cold—not in some skimpy bikini taking ‘Sex on the Beach’ way too literally.”
“Jerk!” I tossed a pillow at my best friend as she disappeared into the bathroom of our suite bowling over with laughter.
At least I was laughing about it now.
I fell back onto the bed. I just wanted to sleep in all day, curled up with my Kindle, and live in a different world—because the two that I was straddling were promising to drive me crazy. But no, it looked like I was waking up to go on a full-on date day with Mr. Heartbreaker himself.
“And he knows about this?” I yelled to her. “That he has to spend Valentine’s Day with me? The mother of all relationship-affirming days? Can’t we just snap a few staged photos and post them on Instagram?”
Christmas would come quicker than Tay finishing her nighttime facial regimen and I wasn’t going to wait for either to come around before finding out.
“Bruce talked to him before he called me. And then I called him to make sure everyone was on the same page. So, yes, he knows and no, we cannot just take photos and pretend like something happened.”
Dang. Worth a shot.
“How’d you know I would agree?” I asked, curling into my pillow. “Maybe I already have a date…”
“Nice try, B, but James Patterson is busy tomorrow. I checked. And you’ve already agreed to this so you don’t have a choice.” Alright, valid point. “Plus, you can’t lie to me. I know the part of you that wants to fall for Zach all over again is going crazy for the next step in this charade.”
“I thought I was supposed to keep her contained?” I asked, opening Instagram and scrolling through the fan photos from Pittsburgh, trying to like and comment on as many as I could before I got too tired.
God, it seemed like every picture was of Zach and me dancing at the Rep Room—like a concert hadn’t even happened.
“Not in front of the cameras,” she returned sweetly. “In front of the cameras, you can listen to the little Bad Blake on your shoulder.”
She wasn’t on my shoulder though; she was in my head, reminding me of Zach’s mouth on mine, the desperate and raw need in his voice when he told me to taste myself, when he confessed to wanting to be inside me when I screamed his name. And she insisted that no matter what words were said, actions make liars out of us all.
“Plus, Zach told me that he was going to take care of the whole day and that he didn’t want me to schedule anything. He wouldn’t even tell me what his ideas were… which has obviously been really intriguing to me.” I bet it was. “I mean, it’s New York City and all so there is a ton to do, but he seemed like a man with a plan. So, you have to agree for no other reason than I want to know just what he comes up with…”
“Why do I feel like I’m the guinea pig here and you’re just itching to see what this whole reputation experiment does to me?”
“Oh, please. Prom King. Football quarterback.” She was ticking off all his qualifications on her fingers as she spoke. “Hottest sweetheart within a fifty-mile radius of Franklin, Tennessee. And—according to a verified source—the best kisser in the world.” My eyes narrowed as she threw my confession back at me. “I’d have to say that you’re the lucky one, so you’ll have to excuse me if I don’t RSVP to this pity party of yours.”
I burst out laughing, tossing another pillow at her which she just barely avoided with a shriek.
She wasn’t wrong, I thought.
Still.
A Valentine’s Day planned by and spent with Zach…
Welcome to New York.
“Coffee?”
Maybe it was the fact that I was pretty tired and needed coffee, but Zach’s southern drawl seemed even thicker than usual. That combined with the way he was leaning his shoulder against the wall in the lobby waiting for me to come down, arms crossed, parka unzipped, henley tucked front and center into his jeans—it all turned my body to mush. Not a good sign.
He was flawless. All the time.
Really explained why I struggled to stop myself from falling.
Five minutes into the date day and I was already wondering what possible private places there were where I could try to dry-hump him out of my system. Again.
I fully admit that it was a pathetic goal but Bad Blake liked to set low, relatively achievable standards for herself.
“You could have slept in for longer, Blay,” he said with a warm half-smile that was oddly reminiscent of easier times—times when I loved him and he pretended he didn’t know.
I shook my head slightly. “Just need some coffee.” No matter what Tay said about my makeup this morning, the only thing that would have me glowing was freshly-brewed caffeine running through my veins. “So, where are we headed?” I asked, pulling my hat on over hair that I’d attempted to curl. I gave them until about eleven-forty-five until the curls were completely gone.
She’d been the one to hand me the hat and gloves, instructing me that I needed to dress warmly today—and insisting just as strongly that she really had no idea what Zach had planned. The wool-knit hat had been a birthday gift from Ash last year after he’d come back from Iceland. Complete with the little ball on the top and tassel ties and a set of matching gloves, all my winter T’s were crossed and I’s were dotted.
I glanced around the lobby of the Plaza, bustling with couples bundled up for the cold, cheeks red and spirits high. We were standing by where their huge Christmas tree resided a month or so ago. The best part was that no one noticed me. No one noticed Blake Tyler or southern hunk, Zach Parker of the Parker Project. We were just Blake and Zach—one more couple about to begin the day together.
Couple.
Just outside these walls, Bad Blake, not inside.
Still, a nervous thrill shot up my spine and I wiped my palms on the sides of my legs.
“Can’t tell you.” He grinned. “It’s a surprise.”
“Wha—” I broke off. “What do you mean?”
“Calm down, baby Blake,” he teased lightly, “We just have to wait for the guys to get back. I sent them on an errand.”
Surprises. Valentine’s Day. Zach Parker. All the things I liked that I shouldn’t.
Bad Blake was having a field day.
“While we wait, let’s go downstairs and get you that cup of coffee.” He held his arm out. “Unless you want to go to Starbucks.”
I shook my head. “Just as long as it’s good coffee, it doesn’t matter to me.”
My coat hid my goosebumps as he touched the back of my elbow, leading me over to the staircase. Below the main lobby was The Plaza Food Hall—one of NYC’s best hidden secrets, according to Tay. Shop after shop of specialty food: sushi, subs, pizza, chocolate, doughnuts, dumplings, ice cream, cheese and wine—you name it, we walked by it. Most importantly, we ended in line at Billy’s Bakery.
My eyes rolled when we got to the counter, but even that not-so-subtle hint wasn’t absorbed by Elle, the girl working, who was staring blatantly at Zach with her mouth hanging wide open. Good thing she wasn’t making coffee or she would have been drooling right into it.
Only I was allowed to embarrassingly ogle Zach Parker.
“Hey,” she said with a low, sexy voice that made me hate her even more.
My voice could do a lot of things. Obviously. It was my job. But that voice was one I never could seem to master.
“What can I get you?” she continued, batting her eyelashes at Zach like she was trying out for Major League Baseball.
Strangely, this was one of those rare, unicorn situations where I’d gone unrecognized. I should have loved it. I should have been jumping in excitement at being mistaken for the normal person that I was.
But, no. Zach went and ruined that, too.
“Two Americanos, please,” he replied with a genuine smile. Of course, he’d be nice to her.
I wanted to plaster myself all over him. Correction: Bad Blake wanted to plaster myself all over him and autograph his forehead so that she knew he was mine.
“Is there anything else I can get you?” she asked huskily, pushing the tiny laminated menu towards him with both hands…
I bit my lip but it didn’t stop the tortured groan from seeping out as the blonde bimbo blatantly pushed her boobs together like they were the daily special.
“Oh. My. God. Elle.” An annoyed, flamboyantly shrill voice broke through the incredibly awkward scene. “Good God. If you’re going to use your tits to sell things you might as well just go work over in Times Square. This. Is. The. Plaza. And these fine people—” he looked over to us as he spoke, but then did a double take on me.
And my momentary incognito was gone.
He cleared his throat and with a kindness that made me want to jump the counter and kiss him, he continued, “These fine people just want their coffee. Not,” he paused to wave his arms around in front of her, “whatever else you are trying to give away. Plus, do you have eyes? Can you see he is here with someone? I just… I just can’t.”
And with a final wave of his hand and aggravated sigh, he grabbed the two cups and walked over to the espresso machines, nodding his head for us to follow.
Leaving Embarrassed-Elle sufficiently red-faced, I murmured, “Thank you,” to my new favorite barista.
“Oh, please,” he said like it was nothing, looking at the cups. “If I had anything to say about it, she would have been gone by now. I swear, the only drink she knows how to sell is a cafe-au-laid.”
My hand flew to my mouth as Zach and I broke out laughing.
“Sorry, I’m Claudio, and the only thing that has a filter around here is the coffee machine. Now, what did you want? She didn’t write anything on these,” he huffed.
“After that,” I said, wiping tears from my eyes, “just something tall, dark, and strong. Very strong.”
“Mm mm girl,” he drawled out as his eyes flicked up and down over Zach. “I’d say you already got yourself one of those.”
And there went all of my hard work on my eyeliner.
While he expertly made our drinks, I reached around for a coffee collar, writing ‘You’re the best. With love, Blake’ on it.
“Thank you, Blake. I love you,” he mouthed when I traded him the signed collar for my cup.
It was only on the way back up the stairs that I realized he’d written ‘tall, dark, and strong’ on Zach’s coffee with a heart at the end.
“I just tried to call you, Zach,” my brother’s voice echoed through the space. He and Ronnie stood with their hands clutching at least six white pastry bags.
“Hope you’re hungry, Blake!” Ronnie exclaimed with a grin.
“Where were you?” Ash demanded with possessive eyes and a threatening tone.
“Downstairs for coffee while we waited for you,” I grumbled; the guy still acted like I was thirteen and needed to hold his hand to walk across the street. “What is all of this?” I reached for one of the bags but Ronnie quickly pulled it back, looking to Zach for permission.
I couldn’t see, but I could smell; the scent of warm pastry and sugar invaded my nose. Like Christmas cookies and freshly-baked bread were warring to see which could make me drool more.
“Have you ever heard—”
“Nope,” Zach cut Ron off and grabbed the two bags from his hand. “Time for us to get going.”
“The press won’t entertain themselves,” Ash grumbled, stepping back and motioning an arm to the front door.
The sting of his words was like a Band-Aid being ripped off. Zach and I had been… fine. Better than fine, actually. Sometime between coming downstairs and getting coffee to right now, the fact that it was all for show had been lost in the back of my mind.
“Time to bundle up, Baby Blake,” Zach said with a grin. “We’ve got places to go.”