This One Moment (Pushing Limits, #1)(40)

“What they’re saying about your name. Is it true?”

“What are they saying?” Not that I needed to ask. I had a painful suspicion I already knew.

“That your real name isn’t Tyler Erickson. It’s Nolan Kincaid.”

Fuck! How the hell…? Who the hell…?

My head flopped forward and I shoved my hand through my hair. “It’s true.”

I smoothed my hand against the sheet, ironing out the creases. If only it had been as simple as that when it came to the mess of my life. If only it had been as simple as stripping the bedding from the bed and starting fresh.

“But why?” Jared said. “I don’t mean why the name change, but why didn’t you tell me? Why am I only finding out now?” The hurt in his voice almost gutted me. He was right. I should have told him. “I’ve told you things I’ve told no one else. Why? Because I trusted you, Tyler—or Nolan, or whatever your real name is.”

“Nolan is my real name,” I muttered.

Hailey moved to kneel behind me on the bed and held me close, sharing her strength. She tenderly kissed the bare skin on my shoulder.

I smiled at her, the movement small but genuine. “And I’m sorry,” I told Jared, “but I had my reasons for keeping it a secret.”

“Are you in trouble?” he asked.

“No, nothing like that. I needed to escape my past and couldn’t do that with my old name.” Since I had nothing to lose by telling him the truth, I told him about my family and how I couldn’t remember that night. Better he found out from me than from the media.

“I’m sorry, Ty…Nolan.”

“Once the police finished questioning me, I ran off to L.A. Where I’ve been ever since.”

“But how come no one knew until now about your real identity?”

“My mom home-schooled me. So other than a few friends, who I trust with my life”—I glanced at Hailey—“no one remembered me by the time we signed with the record label.” Same deal with the kids I used to play soccer with when I was younger. I’d changed enough over the years that they didn’t recognize Tyler Erickson as the same lanky kid who’d been on their soccer team.

“So the record label doesn’t even know?” he asked.

I cringed. “They know. They did a background check before they signed us. They couldn’t find a single mention about my life. Nothing. They asked me about it and I told them.”

“And they didn’t have an issue with it?”

“It’s not like I’m the first musician to use a different name from what they were born with. They just wanted to make sure I hadn’t been involved in anything illegal. They understood my need to protect my privacy. And that I wanted to be known for my music, not because of what my father did.”

“You could’ve told me. I would’ve understood and wouldn’t have told anyone.”

“I know.” And I did. “But I’d kept it a secret for so long, I was used to being Tyler Erickson. As far as I was concerned, Nolan didn’t exist anymore.” I looked at Hailey, my gaze absorbing everything about her, including the part where we were still naked. “Or he didn’t exist until recently.”

She smiled softly at me, understanding what I meant.

“So what’re you going to do?” Jared asked.

“Right now I have no idea. Other than writing songs for the album, my only concern is the reason I came here originally.” And for the first time since coming to Northbridge, I told Jared the truth.

“I can’t leave until I know she’s safe,” I finished.

“And what if the cops can’t solve it before you’re due back here? Then what?”

“I’ll figure it out if it comes to that.”

“Fine. Just make sure that whatever’s going on down there, you don’t get caught up in it, okay?” Jared said. “And don’t do anything stupid…” He left the warning hanging, leaving me to fill in the blanks. Don’t get yourself into deeper trouble with the media than you’re already in.

Don’t get yourself killed.





Chapter 25


Hailey


The best part of doing something meaningful to you is that it steals you away from all your problems. Even for just a few minutes a day, it fills you with a joy that can’t be found anywhere else and gives you a passion to keep going when you feel like the world is conspiring against you.

Or, in my case, my feelings for Nolan were conspiring against me.

I walked out of the gym where I’d been helping the physical therapist with the kids with special needs. The more I worked with them, the more I knew this was the area I wanted to specialize in when I became a therapist. It might not mean the same as music meant to Nolan, but it came pretty darn close.

Dad had sent me a text to check if Nolan and I were okay now that the news about Tyler Erickson’s true identity was out. He’d been skillfully fielding questions at the hospital, where he worked as a surgeon, ever since Nolan had been spotted coming out of my room. In many ways, Dad had always been more of a father to Nolan than Nolan’s own father had been.

“Oh my God, isn’t that Tyler Erickson?” a female voice shrieked from behind me as I was about to respond to my father’s text, the sound rivaling that of a cat whose tail had been stepped on. Cringing, I glanced over my shoulder.