Page 37 of Once Upon a Boyband
Idoknow this man. Me and every other woman on the planet.
Freddie Ridgefield is standing on Adam’s porch.
TheFreddie Ridgefield.
Three-time Grammy-award-winning, formerly of Midnight Rush, top ten artists in theworldFreddie Ridgefield.
He smiles and stretches out his hand. “Hello. You must be Laney, Deke’s fiancée.”
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Laney
In any normal circumstance,coming face to face with the world’s biggest popstar would be overwhelming all on its own.
But there’s something else competing for attention in my brain.
You must be Laney, Deke’s fiancée.
IamLaney, he got that part right, but…Deke? As in, his former bandmate Deke? Is it just a coincidence that I happen to have the same name as Deke Driscoll’s fiancée?
But then, why would Freddie Ridgefield expect her to behere,at Adam’s house?
Adam…Driscoll’shouse.
Wait.
No.
No, no, no, no, no.
That’s not even a little bit possible. Adam Driscoll runs a dog rescue in Lawson freaking Cove. Heis not…he can’t be…
I picture Adam’s face. Bright blue eyes. Strong jaw. Soft beard. Perfect lips.
He can’t be Deke. Deke is…Deke.Boyish and winsome and definitelynotsix feet of sculpted muscle.
I wobble on my feet a little, and Freddie steps into the doorway to steady me. “Hey, whoa. Why don’t you sit down for a sec?” He gently grips my elbow, leading me onto the porch and over to a wide, wooden bench to the left of Adam’s front door. He hovers as I sit, like he wants to make sure I make it all the way down without falling over. “Just breathe,” he says. “Can I get you anything? Some water, maybe?”
I lift my eyes to his. They are really pretty eyes. Wide and green and full of concern.
“You’re Freddie Ridgefield,” I say.
He offers me a bemused smile. “I am.”
“And you’re here to see Deke Driscoll?”
He sits down on the bench beside me, careful to keep a respectable amount of space between us. “Right again,” he says. “He probably isn’t expecting me, not unless Sarah mentioned that I was coming?”
He says this like it’s a question. Like I might be able to confirm or deny and shed light on this whole situation. But I am zero help here. I’m too busy trying to calculate the statistical odds that Adam Driscoll and Deke Driscoll are two different people, both with sisters named Sarah and romantic interests named Laney, and this is all just one hilarious coincidental mix-up.
Because Adam simply cannot be Deke.
I look up at Freddie one more time. “You’re really him,” I say, like this is all some kind of fantastical dream. “And you came here because Deke lives here. Because you know Deke.”
He nods, patiently. “It’s the address Sarah gave me, so…yes? Is he…not here?”
I don’t answer because I can’t answer. I have no idea what I would even say. Instead, I lift my hands to my fiery cheeks and will myself to take several deep breaths. I don’t think I’ve been getting a lot of oxygen into my lungs, because the effort feels really good, and my head clears the slightest bit.
