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Jaybird by M.A. Foster (49)



BEING BACK IN California feels weird, like I’ve been away for years. Even the house I grew up in on Malibu Beach no longer feels like home, but a distant memory. Zach is my home and I miss him like crazy.

Besides the Grammys, this trip has been all business between meetings and interviews.

My first and only meeting today is with my lawyer, Jack Reynolds. On my way out, I see Tyge Reynolds, Jack’s son, in the waiting area, talking with Bass and Levi. I’ve known Tyge since I was a kid, so I guess you could say he’s a family friend. He’s also the pitcher for the LA Heat and my Uncle Liam’s teammate. “Hey, stranger.” I smile as Tyge pulls me in for a hug. “What are you doing here?”

Tyge jerks his head to the side, gesturing to one of the girls behind the desk. “Dropping something off.” I shake my head. This guy is too much. “You guys heading out?” he asks. “I’ll walk with you.”

“Yeah.” I look down at my watch. “I’ve got a plane to catch.” The elevator pings and we step inside.

“You legal yet?” he jokes, smirking as he shoves his hands in the front pockets of his jeans.

Bass shakes his head.

I snort and playfully backhand him in the stomach. “I have a boyfriend.”

The elevator opens at the bottom floor and Bass and Levi step out first. Tyge jerks his head, gesturing for me to step out before he follows. We make our way through the lobby and push through the doors out onto the sidewalk.

“It was good to see you again, Jay.” He throws his arm over my shoulder. “Say hello to your mom for me.”

And that’s when I hear it.

Click. Click. Click.



“WHAT’S WRONG WITH you?” I ask when Cole comes walking into Brad’s house.

“Harper and I got into it and, no, I don’t wanna talk about it,” he says, falling to the couch and dragging his hands down his face.

“What time is Jay supposed to back?” Brad asks, changing the subject.

“She should be home by seven.”

My phone chimes with a Google alert notification. I set the alert this afternoon after Reagan showed me that picture of Jay and Ace Matthews.

“Hello, from your local bird watcher. Looks like there’s been a Jaybird sighting today in downtown LA. Jayla King, who we also know as Jaybird, was spotted leaving Finnegan’s Bistro with LA Heat’s Tyge Reynolds. Click here for photos. There’s no denying the heat, pun intended, between these two. Whoa! Seriously hot. An inside source claims that the two dated on and off for a while, but King broke things off and moved on to LAW bad-boy drummer, Ace Matthews. A reliable source told us that the two broke up just after a month when Matthews cheated on her with America’s Voice winner, Nikki Fox. Things are getting interesting. Check back for updates.”

Because my curiosity outweighs my common sense, I click on the link and picture after picture pops up. More pictures of Jay and Ace and a dozen pictures of Jay and Tyge stepping out of the restaurant with Tyge’s arm around Jay. My heart sinks and my blood boils all at once. I think I might actually be sick.

“What’s wrong?” Cole asks, and I pass my phone to him.

His brows furrow and a frown tugs at the corners of his mouth. “Where do they come up with this crap?” He passes my phone back to me. “Ignore it.”

“What’s wrong, Zach?” Lexi asks. I hold up my phone with the picture of Jay walking out of a building with Tyge Reynolds’s arm around her. Lexi grabs my phone and glances down at the screen while Evan looks over her shoulder.

Evan raises his brows and exhales a whistle through his teeth. Lexi passes my phone back to me. “You don’t believe any of that, do you?”

“Not really. I mean, I know the media is full of shit, but what’s she doing with him?”

“She knows him,” Cole explains. “He’s Liam’s teammate and his dad is her lawyer.”

Lexi plops down on the couch beside me and picks up the remote. “Have you tried calling her?”

“No,” I reply, checking the time on my phone. “She’s probably on her way to the airport.”

“What are you worried about, Zach?” Cole asks.

“That she’s not the perfect little princess he thought she was,” Reagan adds with a Cheshire cat grin.

“Shut up, Reagan,” Cole snaps. “Why are you even here?”

“She’s here with me,” Ashton pipes up.

“And why are you here?”

“Because I invited them,” Brooklyn says.

“This isn’t a party, Brook,” Brad tells her. “Mom and Dad will be home after their business dinner.”

“You have friends over. Why can’t I?”

Brad rolls his eyes before he looks over at me and says, “She’ll be home in a few hours, so just hold off on jumping to conclusions.”

“I think we both need a drink,” Cole says and I couldn’t agree more.



BASS STEERS THE car up the driveway of the Malibu beach house and I’m out the door before he can even put the car in Park. “Princess, wait!” he calls out, but I don’t. I blow through the front door and up the stairs. My mom isn’t answering her phone and I need her to do some damage control. Now.

“Em,” I call out as I reach the top of the stairs and head into the master suite. The shower is going, which explains why she wasn’t picking up. “Mom!”

Reaching the bathroom door, I hear it.

A moan—female.

A groan—male.

What the hell?

I pause outside the door with my hand on the knob.

Moan.

Groan.

Turning the knob, I slowly push open the door, step inside and freeze.

“I love you, Em,” Cam says.

Oh.

My.

God.



I WALK DOWN to the beach for some privacy and to call Jay, but she beats me to it.

“Jay?”

“Oh, my God, Zach!” she cries into the phone. “I’m so sorry.”

“What’s wrong?” My heart twists in my chest.

“The cameras were everywhere and…” She’s hysterical. I can’t understand what she’s saying. “…I have to go. I love you, Zach,” she rushes out the last part before the line goes silent.

“Jay?”

She hung up. I redial her number and it goes straight to voicemail.

What the hell just happened?



TWO HOURS AND too many drinks to count later…

Tonight on Celebrity Dirt….” It cuts to a clip of Jay walking through the airport behind Bass with Levi at her side, sunglasses shielding her eyes. Alex and Eva are trailing behind them. “Look who flew into town. It’s Jaybird.” The camera cuts back to a group of reporters standing around in a newsroom. The reporter, Kyle, says, “Jayla King was spotted at LAX.”

“Jaybird,” Harold, the boss, clarifies.

“Yes. It’s rare to see Miss King out and about, but today she was spotted twice.” A video clip of Jay and Tyge Reynolds coming out of a building starts playing.

“So, what? Celebrities eat. Big deal. Why is that newsworthy?” a female reporter says, rolling her eyes.

“Hello, that’s Tyge Reynolds,” another female reporter chimes in. “The man is hot.”

It’s my turn to roll my eyes.

“It gets better.” Kyle grins.

“You plan on taking up the entire show with this story?” Harold asks, cutting in with a laugh.

“Trust me. This will be our best segment yet,” Kyle says with a chuckle. “So, it started with King and Reynolds leaving Finnegan’s Bistro.” They cut to the video of Jay and Tyge coming out of the restaurant again. “They seem pretty cozy,” Kyle adds. “Throw in those sexy photos of King and Ace Matthews and I smell a love triangle.”

The TV cuts to a commercial and everyone’s eyes turn to me. I lean my head back on the couch and close my eyes.

“That’s bullshit,” Cole yells at the TV. “Poor Jay.”

Jay’s words replay in my head. “The cameras were everywhere and… I have to go. I love you, Zach.”

She called me Zach.

I’m frustrated, confused and, if I’m being honest, slightly humiliated. I know it’s not Jay’s fault, but it doesn’t help that sinking feeling in my gut.

“I agree,” Lexi says.

“Me, too,” Brad adds.

The commercial ends and Celebrity Dirt comes back on. “Freelance reporter Kelly Cunninger is getting a lot of recognition for her Operation Bird Watch blog posts,” Kyle says.

“That’s just creepy,” Cole says.

“Now here is where things get interesting. Apparently, Ms. Cunninger caught up with King, Evangeline, and Alex Reyes, the new lead singer for Royal Mayhem, at LAX…”

“They have a new lead singer?” Harold asks.

Kyle shakes his head. “Dude, where have you been? They introduced him at the Grammys last night. Watch this.”

The show cuts to the same video clip of Jay walking through LAX with Bass and Levi in front of her and Eva and Alex behind her. Reporters are shouting questions as quickly as they flash their cameras.

“Miss King…”

“What’s your relationship with Tyge Reynolds?”

“We’re friends,” she responds.

“What about Ace Matthews?”

“What about him?” she scoffs and I imagine she’s rolling her eyes behind her dark sunglasses.

“Is Reynolds angry with you over those photos of you and Ace?”

Jay looks straight at the cameras. “You guys have a wild imagination.”

Bass’s deep voice booms over the chaos. “You guys need to back up!”

“Are you happy with your father’s replacement?”

Jay stops to face the cameras.

“Oh, shit!” someone says from behind me.

“She looks pissed,” I say.

Yep.

She’s pissed.

Flash. Flash. Flash.

“No, Jay,” I hear someone say. I think it’s Alex.

“My father wasn’t and will never be replaced. Royal Mayhem was his band. I’ve known Alex for several years now and he’s the perfect fit. The band is happy with the decision to bring Alex in and I believe the fans will be, too.”

“Excellent. Can’t wait to hear him live this summer,” a male reporter says.

Jay smiles and her head turns slightly, most likely looking at Alex.

“Miss King, can you tell us about your relationship with Tyge Reynolds?”

“I just told you, we’re friends.”

“I have a trusted source who claims the two of you were, in fact, involved up until last year. Care to comment?”

“I’m sorry, what was your name again?”

“Kelly Cunninger, from Daily Gossip.”

“Ms. Cunninger, you’re the one with the blog Operation Bird Watch, correct?”

“Yes.”

“And you’re stalking me why?”

“I’m just doing my job.”

“Okay, then let me make your job easier. I have never dated Tyge Reynolds or Ace Matthews. If there are pictures floating around, then they’re old and have most likely been taken out of context, as usual. Dig all you want. No matter how many times or different ways you ask, the answer is the same. Tyge is a friend. Ace is a friend. That’s it.”

“What about Liam Mackenzie or Cameron Parker? It seems you have a thing for ballplayers. I hear third baseman, Steven Stratton, is back on the market.”

“What the fuck is her problem?” I bark out as this Kelly lady drills Jay with the same questions like she’s some kind of criminal.

Cole snorts. “That lady just stepped in a big ole pile of fuck you. Here it comes in 3, 2, 1….”

“Seriously, lady?” Jay throws her head back and laughs. “My name is Jayla Mackenzie King. Liam Mackenzie is my uncle. You obviously haven’t been doing your research, you ignorant orange—” Bleeeeep.

There’s my girl.

“Oooh.” Cole brings his fist to his mouth, rocking back against the sofa and slapping his knee. Everyone is laughing.

“Although I appreciate your concern for my love life, I don’t appreciate you painting me as some cleat-chasing tramp sexing my way through the MLB. I suggest you find a new source and do your research. Until then, you need to get out of my face.”

A chorus of “Day-ums” rings out around the room.

“So, you’re single, then?” Kelly keeps going.

“Why?” Eva steps in front of Jay. “Are you asking her out?” She laughs. It’s not the kind of laugh when something is funny. I’ve been around Eva enough to know it’s is her “I’m about to fuck shit up” laugh.

“Oh, shit. She just poked the bitch.” Cole slides to the edge of his seat, resting his elbows on his thighs, which are bouncing with nervous excitement. He smiles, keeping his eyes glued to the TV.

“Miss Cuntinger—” Eva sneers.

“It’s Cunninger.”

“My mistake,” Eva says with a shit-eating grin. The sneer on her face contradicts the sugary sweetness laced in her tone. “Your interest in my friend’s love life sounds more like an obsession. I’m aware of your little blog, too, and I think you’re behaving like an overzealous fangirl.” She smirks. “Or a stalker.”

“I’m gonna go with stalker,” Carter speaks up for the first time.

The camera turns to the stunned reporter holding the microphone. She isn’t at all what I expect her to look like. She’s short with bleached blonde hair shaped around her face like some sort of hair helmet. Her eyes are big and blue and covered in about five inches of makeup, and, holy shit, her skin is orange. I burst out laughing.

“Is it the TV or is she orange?” someone asks. It sounds like Reagan.

“It’s her shitty spray tan,” Lexi answers.

“Miss King, is it true that you were admitted to a mental health facility just three weeks after your father passed?”

Oh, no.

Jay pales, but Evangeline once again comes to her defense. “Are you kidding me?”

I’m just doing my job, Evangeline,” Kelly says.

“No, you’re not just doing your job. You’re harassing her. It’s because of people like you that’s kept her from the public eye. People like you who ruin it for other reporters…” She waves her hand around. “…who really are just doing their jobs. Here’s a little piece of advice, Ms. Cuntinger. Stop. She answered all of your ridiculous questions, and if you don’t like what you hear, that’s your problem. If you really want to do your job, then round up your little camera crew and get back to the chocolate factory before Willy Wonka realizes he’s missing an Oompa Loompa.”

“Told you,” Kyle, the reporter says with a laugh and, with that, the show is over.

Oh. My. God.

That was priceless.

The whole room bursts into laughter as the camera cuts back to the reporters in the newsroom doing the same. Harold is bent over at the waist and the two women are wiping their eyes.

“I knew it!” Cole barks out a laugh and stands up, waving his arm and high-fiving everyone in the room. “I love that bitch.”

“Oh, my God!” Lexi laughs out loud. “That was hilarious! I wish we would’ve recorded that.”

“I’m sure that shit’s all over social media and I’ll bet Emerson is pissed.” Cole laughs and turns to me. “That stupid lady just got her ass handed to her in front of the whole damn country. Zach, stop stressin’. It’s written all over your face.”

Doubt settles in the pit of my stomach like poison. This is what her life is gonna be like for God knows how long.

We keep saying we’ll figure it out, but I think it’s just our way of avoiding the inevitable. The honeymoon phase is coming to an end and, eventually, we’ll both have to leave our little bubble and venture out into the real world. She’ll go on tour and I’ll go off to college. That scares the hell out of me. “I need another drink.”

Cole slaps me on the shoulder. “Come on, let’s go out back.”

I stand up and follow him down to the bonfire on the beach.