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If he asked me directly, I didn't think I could lie to him, but could I tell him the truth? When I decided I wouldn't, I hadn't considered this particular scenario. If I had, I would have stopped it by throwing out the test somewhere else. Or wrapping it up and stowing it in my suitcase. Something else. Anything else.
"He was such a jerk," Ripley said. "I mean, I get it. If Harper and Cord were having a baby, that's a big story. The lead guitarist and the backing vocalist to fell in love while on tour. Blah, blah, blah. It's so romantic. But if Mel was pregnant, that would be a huge twist in her and Jude's story. The press would spend the next nine months speculating if the father was Jude or her ex and if it was Jude, were they together while she was with the other dude?"
"No," Mel said over her shoulder. "Absolutely, one million percent no way. Even if I would, Jude wouldn't have gone there. He's not that kind of guy."
"Nope, I'm not," Jude agreed. "I'm a one person, person and I like my person to be a one person, person too." He smiled at his own tongue twister.
"We all know that," Ripley said. "The point is that's what the press would say."
"They'll still say that," I said. I came to a realization that made my stomach rebel. In spite of her denial, Anders would still print the rumor and likely insinuate the test was hers. He wouldn't say it outright, because he knew the label would sue his ass, but the story would start there and grow. It was possible the only way to stop it would be to admit the test was mine.
And just like that, another layer of complication was added to the situation. What would I do if I had to potentially ruin Axel's life to save Mel from renewed, relentless scrutiny and gossip?
"I'll put together a statement for the press," I said.
"And say what?" Roman asked. He gave me a meaningful look.
"And say Melanie is one hundred percent not pregnant, and neither is Harper. Any rumor that says otherwise is untrue." I shrugged as casually as I could.
"I wonder if they really found a test," Harper said. "It wouldn't be the first time people made up shit like that, just for their own publicity." She looked disgusted at the idea. It was one thing to be used to the kind of questions and attention that got thrown famous people, but it was another to be happy about it.
"It's none of anyone's business," Jett said. "Even if it does exist, it could belong to anyone. A hotel employee or one of the other people on the tour. Who cares?"
"Yeah, it's about as exciting as a half eaten peanut butter and jelly sandwich," Strike agreed. "Okay, a bit more exciting, but you know what I mean. I thought we were there to talk about our music." He reached the door of the bus that drove us all here and stopped with his hand on the handrail. He gave me a look like it was my fault the interview went sideways. Which it was, but not in the way he was thinking.
"You were," I said. "I should have reigned him in sooner. I apologize for any offense caused by not doing so." I really had screwed this up, hadn't I? I couldn't have done worse if I tried.
He grinned. "I'm not offended, I just like talking about our music more than I like talking about our personal lives.” He turned and stepped up onto the bus.
The other guys grunted their agreement and followed him up.
"Don't worry about Strike, he'll be fine," Roman said lightly. "Ending the interview early, would have left him short of his quota of snark for the day." He smiled and shrugged.
That sounded accurate. Strike did seem to need a certain amount of snark, sarcasm and general smartass behaviour per day. I envied him that. It must be nice to be unapologetically you.
I knew I’d never be like that. It wasn't my personality, even if I was rich and famous enough to get away with it. Which I wasn't.
"He's not wrong though," I said. "Maybe I'm losing my edge."
"You'll never lose your edge," he assured me.
"If you two don't stop that, people are going to start thinking up couple names for you," Ripley said teasingly. "I vote for Rayley."
"Not gonna happen," I said. Roman was sweet, but I hadn't given up on him and Ripley having a couple name. Maybe Manley. "We're just friends, that's all."
"Definitely just friends," Roman agreed. He actually glanced at Ripley like he was thinking the same thing I was. When they were both ready, maybe something would develop.
I climbed aboard the bus and slipped into the empty seat opposite Axel.
He gave me one of those heart-flipping smiles and said, "You did great in there. Don't pay any attention to Strike. We all know how these interviews go. We were all expecting some kind of curveball. To be honest, we thought he'd go after Mel and Jude, even though he was told not to."
"Me too," I admitted. "In the notes I sent him, I underlined that he wasn't allowed to go there. He wouldn't have been able to help himself. If it wasn't that, it would have been something else. And, thank you for standing up first. For a minute there, I thought Strike would insist on saying."
"Me too," he agreed. "But firstly, when you say it's over, then it's over. And secondly, I'm looking forward to taking more of their money." He grinned over the back of his seat at his bandmates. "You should come and watch me beat them. If you want to, that is."
"Sounds like fun," I said. "I will if I have time, but I'm going have work to do after that interview." I hated that he looked disappointed at my answer, but if I was going to keep my distance from him, then it had to start right now. It should have started before that night. I should have taken a taxi home from the airport and not going to dinner with him. I shouldn't have invited him into my apartment or my bed.
"Sure, I understand." This time, his smile made my heart hurt, not flip. He seemed genuinely disappointed, if understanding. He, of all people, knew how busy we all were while on tour. Opportunities to play ping-pong were relatively few. Although, I made a bet with myself that the guys would ask to have a ping-pong table added to the tour bus for future tours. And the label would probably provide it too.
