Page 64 of For One Night Only

Valerie’s eyes go wide, and she steps closer to me. “Oh my god, no, Caleb, I didn’t mean this is just sex or anything, seriously. I just want to know if people are talking about us after last night. The press always liked me better when I was with you, and this is the first time we’ve ever publicly confirmed our relationship.” She cackles, scrolling. “Oh! It’s notsuperclear the photos are of us, but people are talking! We did it!”

I run a hand over my hair, trying to make sense of what she’s saying. “So even though things are getting real between us, you still want to keep playing it up publicly for the press?” I ask.

She never wanted this attention on us when we were younger. She insisted weneverdo this, and the change is giving me whiplash. This is already getting complicated and I haven’t had my tea yet.

Val nods. “Exactly! I know it’s a lot, especially because we don’t even know what this thing is between us right now, but I actually think it’ll be easier. Now we’re not totally lying. We can figure out what this all means when things calm down.”

This means I still love you, I want to say, but I know it’s too much, too soon. No one says those words after one night, even if that night was years in the making. I need to pull myself together.

“And I mean, we’re already doing this, right? There’s no point in trying to hide it now. That’s when things got complicated before.” Her voice is hesitant, like she’s not sure if this is the right call.

And my mind reels, because I don’t know the best way to handle this.

Things didn’t get messy before because people speculated about our relationship—they got messy because Valerie wanted to pretend it wasn’t happening…and I never understood why until now. It was so hard to keep track of all the secrets we were holding that our relationship became full of tension and conflict instead of joy.

I’m losing track of what’s real all over again. Still, if she needs to keep the press talking, I can do that for her. Because I do understand. We’re not in our early twenties anymore, and there are bigger implications for her career than just one concert involving the Glitter Bats.

Still, I can’t shake the feeling that mixing our relationship and our media strategy is a bad idea. But I kiss her temple and slip back into my room to get ready, trying to stop overanalyzing everything that’s happened over the past twenty-four hours. Despite the multiple orgasms we shared, tension creeps into my shoulders as I find myself alone.

Today we meet with a stylist to prepare our looks for next weekend’s premiere ofInto the Dragon Realm, an animated series Jane worked on as both composer and musical director. At first, the band wasn’t on the guest list, but Jane’s New York agent made magic happen. They’re probably just as eager for the press as everyone else.

Jane insisted we don’t need to do anything fancy to prep today, but after I place a breakfast order, I decide to spend extra time in the bathroom exfoliating and moisturizing, falling into more old rhythms like it’s been weeks instead of years since I lived this life. Now that Valerie and I have made a splash, I know cameras could be anywhere. Might as well try to look the part.

I’m also just a bundle of nerves, and the familiar routine steadies me.

When we first started playing music together, we never expected to walk a red carpet. But once we got a few nominations forBittersweet, we started navigating the labyrinth of the awards circuit. The first time we walked a red carpet, we didn’t hire stylists, didn’t get outfits tailored, didn’t even know how to respond to questions. It was a lot of learning on the fly, but we figured it out toward the end. For the most part.

And then we got a little media training.

Everyone else has so much more practice than I do these days, and I don’t want to do anything to hurt the opportunity for good press. So I do everything I can to make myself presentable, shaving as close as I can and putting pomade in my hair, partly because I’m trying to put my best foot forward and partly because I need the extra time to process my feelings about last night.

There’s nothing in my head but thoughts ofValerie—the good, the anxious, the uncertain. My Earl Grey and avocado toast arrive as I’m tugging on a shirt for the day, and I resist the urge to scroll on my phone as I eat. I’ve seen enough of what they’re saying about us.

It’s amazing that we’re reconnecting, but I’m still nervous to start up again in front of the cameras. Last time, secrets tore us apart. This time, the press is going to know everything. I wonder, idly, if there’s somewhere we can meet in the middle, so we’re not hiding our relationship but we’re also not allowing ourselves to be consumed. This could wreck us too.

But Valerie still needs this, and she’s worth the risk. I can’t say no to her. Even if we crash and burn at the end, I’m in this now. I just hope we can pull this off the way she planned.

After I brush my teeth, I finish getting dressed and head down to meet the others in a conference room. The beige space has been transformed into a shock of vibrant color. I never got used to it, but when you’re famous, they bring the clothes to you. There are racks of designer suits on one wall, racks of gowns on another, and in the middle is a raised platform where a stylist, a tailor, and Wade arechatting over a tablet. Keeley, Jane, and Valerie comb through the rack of gowns, and even though I definitely took too long upstairs, I’m not the last to arrive.

“Is Riker not down yet?” I ask as I approach the rest of the band.

“I was hoping he’d be with you!” Jane says, sighing as she glances at her phone. Some things haven’t changed in six years, including Riker’s aggressive insomnia. Other than making a few offhand comments, we never fought about it as a group, because we all assumed his chaotic sleep schedule had something to do with his not-so-great family. His parents used to fight late at night, and he’d survived by stuffing on noise-canceling headphones and Twitch streaming past midnight. We just let him cope, offered shoulders to lean on. It was hard enough for him to focus on the band without their support. Besides, he’s never missed a gig, always powering through with energy drinks and sheer will.

I might need a caffeine boost myself after the decidedly little sleep I got last night. My fingers brush against the gowns near me, some with shining and silky smooth fabric, others glittering and abrasive, but I need something to hold me steady while taking Valerie in. She looks normal in a white hoodie and a pair of leggings, but after what we got up to last night, I can’t tear my gaze from her. She blushes bright pink against the soft fabric of her sweatshirt.

“Good morning,” she says softly.

“Good morning.” I catch her gaze, grinning a little just for her before I turn to the rest of the band. “How are we all doing?”

Keeley raises her brows. “I don’t know. Howarewe doing?”

Heat floods my neck at the insinuation, but any shyness evaporates as I lock eyes with Valerie. One blazing look is enough to pull me under her spell, and my chest aches with the need to be closer to her. She bites her lip. It takes every effort not to cross the few feet between us and soothe that worried mouth with a kiss.

Jane clears her throat. “Uhh…that was quite the press photo.”

“Right, the photo,” I say. Somehow…I momentarily forgot we’re all over the internet.

“I don’t kiss and tell,” Valerie adds.

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