“Of course.” Brendon nodded with a nervous smile forming on his lips. “We’ll make sure you hear it first.”
What the hell are you doing? Just shut up!
I couldn’t contradict Brendan live on the air. Once the words were spoken, they might as well have been the gospel truth. My stomach tied up in knots as I thought about what he was saying. A duet wasn’t something you could just promise. Our styles might not even be compatible. We didn’t have a song. I barely heard the last few questions Carson asked because I was so overwhelmed by what Brendan said. All of the goodwill he earned earlier in the day evaporated instantly. I just wanted to end the interview and get out of the radio station as quickly as possible. When we were finally dismissed, and the headsets came off, I bolted for the door with Brendan chasing after me. He pulled me into a side room before I could have a total meltdown, but the tears were already in my eyes.
“How could you do that?” I pushed him away when he tried to take a step towards me once we were behind closed doors. “We’re supposed to break up after our albums are out! This means we’re stuck pulling off this fake relationship for even longer!”
“I’m sorry, it was the heat of the moment. I mean, what was I supposed to say? Sorry, we hate each other, and we can’t do a duet together? Come on!” Brendan exhaled sharply and stared at me. “I didn’t have a choice! You were stumbling over your words. I had to say something.”
“This is a nightmare. I’m going home.” I stormed out of the room before he could say another word.
Two weeks later
I managed to avoid Brendan entirely for two weeks after he promised the world that we were working on our duet. Our albums were finished and ready to be released. It was nothing more than a waiting game at that point. The paparazzi didn’t need pictures of us having dinner anymore after the radio interview was done. The news of our duet created a lot of buzz around our upcoming albums, and our singles were climbing the charts, but I was filled with turmoil. I didn’t want to do a duet with Brendan. I just wanted the charade to end when our albums were released and get on with my life. The whole ordeal had been a disaster outside of the attention it got us. When my birthday finally came, I knew I was going to have to see him again. I couldn’t exactly skip my own party. I sulked in my apartment until around noon when I heard a knock at my door.
What the hell? I’m not expecting anyone.
“Lauren, are you in there?” It was Brendan’s voice.
“What do you want?” I pulled the door open and stared him down. “The party doesn’t start until seven o’clock.”
“I screwed up. I’m sorry. Regardless of what I’ve done, we still have to figure this out.” He put his hand on the door. “Can I come in?”
“Fine.” I stepped back from the door and let him step into my apartment. “I don’t know why we have to figure it out. You’re the one that made this mess, so why don’t you figure it out on your own?”
“Sawyer thinks the duet is a great idea. I mean, I know it was a mistake to say it without talking to you first, but look how much attention it has gotten us.” He pushed the door closed and sighed.
“Yeah, he told me the same thing, but I don’t necessarily agree. The charade did exactly what it was intended to do. People know who we are. There’s no reason to keep lying to our fans.” I walked over and sat down on the couch.
“Hold on.” He walked over and picked up my guitar. “I’ve been working on something.”
“Oh great… A Brendan Tanner original. That’ll sell records.” I rolled my eyes. “Didn’t other people write every song on your album?”
“Yes, but—this is a starting point at least.” He sat down on the chair across from me.
“I didn’t mean to fall in love.
Yet here I am, strung out on you.
You’re like a drug that won’t let go.
Everything you are, is what I need.”
“That doesn’t even rhyme.” I stood up and grabbed the guitar. “Here, let me see if I can make that sound halfway decent.”
“I didn’t mean to fall for you.
Yet here I am, strung out on love.
You—shit.”
“It’s not that easy, is it?” He chuckled and shrugged. “Trust me, I’ve spent a week on it and all I have is four lines that don’t rhyme.”
“No, hold on.” I hit the guitar with my fingers a few times. “Okay, here we go.”
“I didn’t mean to fall for you.
Yet here I am, strung out on love.