Page 49 of Rebooting Conor Flynn

I set the plastic cup on the floor outside my room in case she realized she left it. I didn’t want her banging on my door again. I had to play the devoted boyfriend in public, but we didn’t have to continue the charade behind closed doors.

I swept my phone from the credenza, and my thumb hovered over the screen. I wanted to check if Noelle was going out with the group tonight, but it shouldn’t matter.

When Ashley dragged me into the hotel after the bus ride, we left Noelle on the curb with a mixture of relief, exhaustion, and wariness stamped on her face. She probably didn’t want to hear from me or anyone else right now. The paps kept drawing her into the picture when she wanted to hide firmly behind it.

I needed to let her hide. For the sake of her job.

I unpacked a few things, hanging my toiletry bag on a hook in the bathroom. Then I collapsed on the bed, dragged my computer onto my lap, and worked on a song. I’d been mucking about with a particular refrain for weeks, and now the lyrics for that refrain ran through my head non-stop...words that came from the time I just spent with Noelle on the tour bus.

Maybe I should go out tonight and let other words and feelings percolate in my brain—in my body, too. Even though Noelle did me dirty all those years ago, the chemistry still burned hot between us. When I looked at her mouth, all I wanted to do was kiss it. When my hand brushed her skin, I wanted to take her in my arms. When her body pressed against mine on the floor of the bus, I wanted...

I shoved my computer from my legs and yanked my phone off the charger. I usually didn’t search for my name on social media, but I had to see those photos again from the concert last night.

I thumbed through the posts of fan pics from the show. Yeah, I was looking off-stage during a major portion of that song, and yeah, I had Noelle in my sights, and okay, I may have had a certain look on my face.

I read some of the comments aloud:

“Who is that in the wings?”

“Why is he looking at her that way?”

“Can he please look at me like that?”

“Is that the girl from In N Out?”

“He doesn’t look at Ashley with those eyes.”

Oh, for fuck’s sake. I dropped the phone face-down on the bed. These fans had better snooping skills than MI6.

The worst part? They weren’t wrong. I didn’t release “No Contact” as a single, so I never knew if Noelle had heard the song. And if she had, did she realize I’d written it about her and our breakup?

With Noelle on this tour and thinking about her day and night, the song selection was a no-brainer. It had been running through my mind from the moment I saw her at the first rehearsal.

When I sang it at the concert, I didn’t even realize I was physically singing it to her. I’d sung it to her so many times before when she was miles away.

Noelle had been concerned about Ashley’s reaction to the online storm over the pictures, but she didn’t need to be. Seemed Ashley had met the frenzy head-on by intercepting us outside when we arrived at the hotel and reinforcing our relationship.

I didn’t like it much, but it beat having Ashley overreact and lash out—hurting the tour...and Noelle. If she could be mature and professional about it, so could I.

I grabbed the room phone and ordered a sandwich and a pot of coffee. Then I rolled out of bed to get ready for my night out with my show girlfriend. Come late. Leave early. I could do that.

Bank a few more pap pics for the fake relationship, so I could start working on the real one in my private time.

***

My Uber dropped me in front of the club, and a few paparazzi stirred from the shadows. I ducked inside before they realized they had a live one.

I scanned the dark interior. A few bar patrons acknowledged me, and I nodded in response. With Ashley in charge of this social outing, there had to be a VIP area. She’d never mingle with the little people.

Enough people knew that about her, which affected her likeability, but she couldn’t help herself. Some celebrities let fame slide under their skin, and if you didn’t manage it—it managed you. PR relationships were a small, insidious part of the whole rot.

I thought I’d put that scammy behavior behind me. Baker Street had subjected all of us to showmances of one kind or another, but most of the lads seemed to have moved on from that.

Ian was mad about his fiancée, Ivy. They shared an unbreakable bond.

Charlie and Devon were made for each other right from the start. There’d never been anyone for Charlie but Devon—even if he hadn’t realized it until recently.

And even Sam seemed to have settled down with Kayla Prescott, his co-star in that movie. They were opposite sides of the same coin.