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Hunter
Two Months Later . . .
“I STILL CAN’T BELIEVE that she’s going to jail for drugs,” Willa said as she watched the video on my phone for the tenth time.
“I can. That woman only knew how to speak in lies. She twisted everything to make herself out to be the good person or to get what she wanted.”
As much I as didn’t want to talk about Chelsea Coulter anymore, I was glad it distracted Willa.
After the dinner at her mom’s house back in October, where she finally admitted she loved me, we fast-tracked everything. I moved Willa and her mom into my house while my brother moved into some swanky condo building a few miles down the road.
“How’s Tucker taking it?” Willa’s beautiful green eyes sparkled under the stage lighting.
We recorded the songs for the album in time and the record label was overjoyed with the results. The record releases in a few weeks, but we dropped a single early.
It was a hit—which was no surprise to me. Everyone wanted to know who I sang with on the song.
They would all find out tonight. When the curtains open and we walk out onto the Michelle Hart Late Night Show, the world will finally meet Willa Jones for the first time.
I thought she’d be a wreck with her fear of singing in front of people. However, the way Willa was acting we might as well have been waiting in line at Starbucks and not behind the curtain of the most popular late-night show in the United States.
“You know Tucker, he blames himself. As if he created the monster just by dating her for a few months. He thinks if he only bought her more gifts, she wouldn’t have resorted to helping the GFC cartel smuggle drugs into the country.” I took the phone from her and handed it off to my assistant who was standing in the wings.
She tried to hide the drugs in my car. That’s why she was digging around my car a few months ago with her weak claim that she lost her earrings. She was looking for some of the drugs she left hidden in the car.
They were eventually found, by the police.
“Break a leg you two.” Niki sashayed up in her skin-tight blue polka-dot dress. She’s the guest tonight on the show; we’re just the musical act.
“Thanks, Niki.” Willa gave her a quick hug. “Have you heard from Tucker?”
They were now neighbors. Niki moved in to the same condo building this month just like my brother and they wound up living next door to each other.
She pursed her lips and shook her head. “Why would I care what that man does? Just because I’m forced to live beside that unfiltered oaf doesn’t mean I’m his keeper. No offense, Hunter.”
I held up my hands. “None taken. I know how he can be.”
I tried my best to hold back a cringe as I remembered his disgusting and highly inappropriate housewarming gift when she first moved next to him. There was a brief moment when I thought she’d sue him or maybe even have him arrested for what he did. Luckily for him, Niki’s a sweet woman and let it go.
At least, I hoped she let it go.
“Anyway, I wanted to wish you two the best out there. They’re going to love you, Willa.” She gave us the thumbs-up before she walked back toward the set.
It was a commercial break, so the guests could head backstage if they needed to.
We heard a voice yell for the one-minute call. I was more nervous than Willa. This wasn’t just her first time on stage. She was about to sing in front of a hundred people in the studio audience, and millions of people watching from home.
This was the moment I had been waiting for since I first met her. When I first saw that look of surprise on her face and chalk in her hands, I felt lighter. As if I had been carrying something heavy in my heart for so long and standing in front of her allowed me to let it go. The guilt.
That Louisa’s death wasn’t due to me and my lifestyle.
No matter what the doctors said, I couldn’t let it go and when she died, I punished myself by hiding away. I would always miss Louisa and would give anything to have her back—happy and healthy—but Willa made me realize it was cancer that killed her, not me.
“Five, Four, Three . . .” The voice off on the side stopped counting and the curtains rose up. I grasped Willa’s hand and smiled. She had the same stunned look on her face as the day I met her.
A cheer went up in the crowd. I barely heard Michelle Hart announce us as we moved in front of the band, Dislocated Tapioca. Willa insisted they’d be our backup band on the album and, of course, I agreed—what can I say, the woman had absolute power over me.
Glowing white tape on the black floor marked an X where we needed to stand. Willa stared at the crowd and gripped the mic for dear life.
Now was the time.
I leaned forward to my mic and said, “Before we sing ‘Hexagonal Heart,’ I’d like to share with you all something I wrote a few days ago. It’s a short song but I think you might like it.”
Willa turned to me with worry etched on her brow.
She didn’t know about the song. No one did.
I walked over to the guitar player and asked to borrow it. The short guy obliged with a nervous grin. They were all new to this—the lights, the fans, the fame.
It had been years since I felt that fear, but tonight I relived it. But only because of one person. She’s the only one I was concerned about impressing.
“This is for you.” I tilted my head as I spoke into the mic and set my eyes on the woman I loved.
Her eyes shifted between me and the audience, her face growing pinker by the second.
“There’s a girl I met, with chalk in her hands. Green eyes shining. She smiled. She sparkled. She was on fire.” I strummed the guitar and plucked the strings a few times.
I wanted a softer song than I normally sang, something that expressed how I felt.
“But when she left, it doused the flame. The smoke choked my voice. My fingers ached to touch her . . . again.”
I roughened up the sound, the plucking gone, and filled with a rapid strum.
“Willa, will you love me? Willa, will you never leave me?” I stopped playing and removing the mic from the stand, I lowered down to one knee.
Too nervous to look up, I fumbled trying to find my mother’s ring in my front shirt pocket. When I finally located it and held it up, I tilted the mic to my lips as I sang the last line, “Willa . . . will you marry me?”
Her hands cupped her mouth and all I could see were her eyes. They blinked and I worried I moved too fast, again. Not even four months of knowing this woman and I was already on bended knee asking to live the rest of my life at her side.
She said nothing, nor did she move.
I made a horrible mistake. And on national television. I could already hear my brother in my head, probably screaming at the TV right now, definitely calling me an idiot.
Willa finally lowered her hands, but her expression was not one of happiness. If anything, she appeared confused.
“Was that why—”
She was cut off by the crowd yelling for her to say it into the mic. It was surprising because of the eerie quiet while I proposed. As many people that were in this room, before she spoke, it was silent. Now, everyone wanted to hear what she had to say, me most of all.
Willa nodded and removed her mic. Looking down, she pointed at the ring. “So, is that why you wore a button-up shirt? You were hiding a ring from me?”
I nodded.
“Because I’d seen you perform on shows before and you always wore a T-shirt. I knew something was up when you came out of the dressing room in that nerdy button-up like your brother. You think I don’t notice, but I do.” She tapped her temple and smirked.
“Willa!” Niki yelled from behind.
She was sitting on the guest couch and pointed at me with wide eyes.
“Oh yeah. Right. You want an answer. Do you all want me to answer?”
A huge roar of yes exploded from the audience.
“Okay. Everyone settle down.” She turned to me and held out her hand, helping me up.
I leaned in and whispered, “I love you and if you aren’t ready, I’ll still love you.”
She said into the mic, “So, what you’re saying is, if I don’t marry you, you’ll stalk me? Well, I guess I have to say yes, then.”
I stepped back and gazed into her eyes. “Really?”
“Yes, really. I love you, Hunter Six.”
The crowd exploded in cheers and I lifted her in my arms like I wanted to the first time she told me she loved me. We were in front of more people this time, and I knew her mom was watching from the audience, but I didn’t care.
Willa would become my wife and I was the happiest man on this stage. Perhaps happier than anyone in the state, and most likely this country, if not the world.
We kissed and finally got around to singing our new single, but everything was a blur. All I could focus on was the fiery redhead who first made fun of my cock and eventually captured my heart.
*****
PSST – I got a BONUS SCENE for you that is Willa & Hunter’s honeymoon! Not only that, but I have a sneak peek at STAR that comes out in September 26th, about Niki & Tucker. Just CLICK HERE to download it now.
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THANK YOU for reading! I you loved reading about Hunter and Willa and can’t wait until Niki and Tucker’s story, Star, then you might want to check out Dirty Secret. It’s about a sexy, single dad who’s a plumber. He’s helping his beautiful neighbor with her pipes and the job is turning out to be harder than he thought. And he’s not talking about her pipes. Keep going to read an excerpt or check out Dirty Secret HERE.
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AND IF YOU ENJOYED IDOL, you’ll love the next story in the Price of Fame series, STAR. It’s about Niki and Tucker.
READ THE EXCLUSIVE STAR EXCERPT HERE
Thank you, dear reader, for taking the time to read IDOL. It would mean the world to me if you let me know how much you liked the story by leaving a review on Amazon, Goodreads, and BookBub.
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KEEP READING FOR A short excerpt from my book, Dirty Secret...
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THE MAN CLEARLY HATED me.
"Which room do you want to inspect first?" I pointed around the hall as we arrived at the top of the stairs. My smile wavered as I attempted to stay upbeat.
His head swiveled to either side of me as if I was a big boulder blocking his line of sight. "Let's start in the master bathroom."
He followed me through my room, and I was thankful he was behind me and couldn't see my frown. I kicked the cardboard box with the word "Winter" on the side out of the way to the bathroom. My bathroom was small, but we managed to both fit inside.
While staring at the sink, Max said, "I can do this part alone."
"Yeah, of course. You don't need me for everything. Probably annoying having to deal with someone that doesn't know what they're doing." I tried to laugh but it turned into a snort.
"No, you aren't annoying."
Instead of accepting the best compliment I could get from a man, I had to embarrass myself even more.
"Thanks, uh . . . I'll let you get back to wielding your superpower with your mighty hands. Able to jump under sinks in a flash, and fit pipes with perfection." I pointed into the air and watched as Max's faced wrinkled in confusion.
"Uh . . . I guess I'll head back down to the kitchen." I threw my thumb over my shoulder as I backed away, each step short in hopes of being halted by a word from his mouth. "Maybe have some more cookies. Then do some stuff on the Internet."
His lovely blue eyes widened.
"I don't mean porn or anything. It's not like that's the only thing on the Internet, you know. Or even that I would know how to look that stuff up. I meant like social media. But I guess porn is social in a way. Unless it's anime porn . . . that's just cartoons." Each word from my lips intensified my frown.
Was it weird that he wasn't laughing at me? Or that I would be happier if he did show some sort of amusement from my speech?
Instead, he stiffened. Standing tall, his muscles hardened from the embarrassing nothings that slipped past my lips.
Part of me was afraid he would run out of the bedroom screaming. Wanting to flee the mad, sex-crazed female he made the mistake of working for. He probably preferred an old-fashioned sort of woman. The kind who enjoyed discussing the weather or her research into correct uses for liquid measuring cups. And that perfectly proper woman wouldn't even know there was such a thing as anime porn.
I bet Max would take his time with that type of woman, romance her. I bet he would not be satisfied until she was happy before, with aching leisure, he freed each button on the old-maid dress she would wear. I could see his calloused fingers push away the frilly lace trim that climbed up her delicate neck.
Only then would he climb on top of her and have restrained, missionary style sex.
I tugged at the front of my shirt to release the heat that was building up. Even imagining that boring scenario was hot because it involved Max.
"I'll just go." I turned to leave with the speed of a gazelle but with the agility of a rhino.
