Hideaway Heart (Cherry Tree Harbor Book 2)
Hideaway Heart: Chapter 21

“BABE, we talked about this. I said no.” Duke’s smooth baritone dripped with patronizing superiority.

“No, you said it could wait. And if you want me back in Nashville tomorrow, you’ll say yes. Otherwise, I’m going to enjoy the rest of my trip.”

“Stop playing around, Pixie.” His voice lost some of its buttery charm. “We’ve got work to do.”

“If you’ll introduce me as Kelly Jo, I’ll be home tomorrow,” I said.

“The producers won’t want that,” he said. “They agreed to Pixie Hart and that’s who you’ll have to be. She’s the name. And it makes no sense to me why you’d want to walk away from everything you’ve built.”

“It doesn’t have to make sense to you, Duke.”

“Well, the answer is no.”

“I’m going to wait to hear what the producers say.”

“They’ll say whatever I tell them to,” he scoffed. “Don’t forget who I am.”

“I know exactly who you are.”

“Good.” And he hung up.

I dropped my phone into my bag. “That did not go well.”

“I could tell.” Xander’s hands were white-knuckled on the wheel. “I’m sorry he’s such a dickhead.”

“It’s okay. Let’s forget about it for tonight.”

While Veronica and Xander sat at the dining room table to work, I helped Austin out in the kitchen. At first, Austin had insisted he didn’t need any help, but I told him I wasn’t raised to sit around while someone else did all the work, and besides, I liked cooking. He eventually agreed to let me do some peeling and chopping, and we stood side by side in the kitchen, chatting amiably and watching Xander and Veronica go over her notes from this week’s interviews.

I asked about his new business venture, if he planned to open up a storefront, how many people were on his wait list for a table and what a girl had to do to get on it.

He laughed. “I can put you on it. I just need some measurements, room size and all that.”

“No problem. I’m heading back to Nashville within the next couple days, and Xander’s actually going to come with me, so I’ll have him take the measurements and get them to you.”

“Xander’s going to Nashville?” Austin sounded surprised.

“I think so. He wants to make sure the cameras at my house are working, hire a new security team for me, do a risk assessment on my property. I told him it wasn’t necessary, but he’s insisting.”

“Xander’s a stubborn son of a bitch.”

I laughed. “He is. And it’s such an inconvenience, with his bar opening soon and all.”

“Then it must really matter to him,” said Austin, right as we heard a sudden hammering on the ceiling above our heads.

“What’s that?” I tipped my head back and stared at the plaster.

“That is my children practicing their tap dancing on Owen’s bedroom floor. Ever since Veronica helped them create homemade tap shoes and taught them some steps, they’ve taken to rolling up the rug and letting loose on the oak, even though I’ve asked them to please use the basement instead.” He shook his head and wiped his hands on a kitchen towel. “Excuse me for one second.”

I laughed as he strode with long legs past the dining room table toward the stairs at the front of his house. He had a beautiful home, not super stylish or anything, but immaculately clean and full of warmth. Briefly I wondered if Xander would eventually have a home and family like this, but when I looked at him sitting at the dining room table, I experienced such a fierce longing for him that my chest ached. I was jealous of this future wife, this woman who would get everything.

His sunny afternoons on the boat and his rainy days on the couch. His lazy smile over coffee in the morning. His Denver omelets and sizzling bacon. His Sunday dinners with extended family. His boyish laugh and his possessive growl. His wide, strong palms on her stomach. His beard prickly on her thighs. His voice deep and gravelly in the dark. His camera focused on her as she luxuriated in warm white sheets on a soft Sunday morning. His time. His attention. His protection.

I had to stop there. I wasn’t normally a jealous person and didn’t particularly enjoy envying the life of some woman I didn’t even know—for fuck’s sake, even Xander didn’t know who she was. She wasn’t even real yet.

But she would be. Someday, she would be.

The feeling stayed with me, and it put me on edge. By the time we got home, it had driven a wedge of tension between us. I’d been silent the entire drive back, and now we were in the bedroom. Door closed. Light on. Shades down.

I toed off my sneakers and kicked them aside, frustrated I hadn’t been able to wear my boots in over a week. I removed my earrings and bracelets and tossed them in my suitcase, not even bothering with my jewelry bag.

“Are you okay?” Xander asked from behind me.

“I’m fine,” I said. “Just a little tired.” It wasn’t like I could tell him that among other bullshit problems I had at the moment, I didn’t like the thought of sharing him with his future wife. That was insane. What Xander and I had was a vacation fling, not a forever thing. It would never work. Our lives had crossed like railroad tracks, but each train was heading in a different direction.

“Their house can be a lot, with two kids.” His tone was apologetic.

“No, no, it’s not that at all—the kids are adorable. Austin is so nice, and Veronica is wonderful.” I turned to replace him leaning back against the door, sizing me up. “I think I’m still aggravated from that phone call with Duke. And the fact that Wags thinks I should just do what the producers want. And of course, the producers will do whatever Duke tells them to, because he’s the big name.” I threw my hands up in surrender. “It’s the same old, same old. The men are in charge.”

“I’m sorry. I wish there was something I could do.”

“You don’t know what it’s like.” I didn’t want to take it out on him, but I couldn’t stop the words from spilling from my mouth as I stood there studying him. His shoulders were like mountains. His legs like Sequoias, his chest like the side of a cliff. “You’re big and strong. You’re always in control. You have no idea what it’s like to feel powerless.”

He studied me for a moment, then pushed off the door and took a few steps forward, so we were chest to chest.

Then he dropped to his knees. “Show me.”

Right there on the bedroom floor, he went down on his knees for me.

“What?” I whispered.

“Show me,” he urged, and his voice was so deep and his shoulders so wide and his height so excessive that even on his knees, he hardly seemed any less powerful.

But it was enough.

He understood.

Rushing forward, I cupped his bearded face in my hands and pressed my lips to his. Penetrated his mouth with my tongue. Controlled the angle and depth and heat of the kiss in a way I couldn’t have done from beneath him. Need for him surged within me, and I thought maybe my plan had backfired, because I felt even more helpless than I had before.

Falling to my knees in front of him, I pulled his black T-shirt over his head and unbuckled his belt, unbuttoned his jeans, and tugged down the zipper. After wriggling one leg out of my panties, I left them hooked around one ankle and pushed against Xander’s chest. He lay back on his elbows obligingly, and I straddled his legs, dragging his jeans down to his thighs. Unbound, his cock sprang free and I took it in my hand, slipping it through my fist a few times. With the light on, I could see how different parts of his body reacted to my touch. I liked the way his abs flexed and his eyes darkened and his chest rose and fell in quick succession. I liked the way his hands curled into fists. I liked the tension in his jaw. I liked the deep purple color of his erection as it thickened and lengthened further in my hand.

Most of all, I liked that his body was mine tonight, that he’d surrendered it to me. That he’d ceded control. For Xander, that didn’t come easily. It took trust, the way this morning’s photographs had for me.

I lowered my mouth onto him, licking the warm, smooth crown and sucking the tip. He groaned with tortured delight. “I wish I could get my hands on you.”

“Not yet. I get to have my way with you first.” Suddenly I had an idea.

“Your way?”

“Yes.” I picked up my head and smiled coyly at him. “Don’t move, if you know what’s good for you.”

One of his brows quirked up.

Popping to my feet, I went over to the side of the bed and reached beneath it, pulling out my mini vibrator. Returning to him, I pulled his jeans all the way off and knelt between his legs. My thumb hit the button on the toy, bringing it to life. It hummed in my hand as I lowered my head again, running my tongue from the base of his shaft to the tip. Then I did it again while gently pressing the vibrator to his balls.

He inhaled sharply. “Oh, fuck.”

I took the head in my mouth and sucked while moving the toy along his shaft, careful not to press too hard or go too fast. But judging by the sounds he made and the way his dick was reacting in my mouth, he found the sensations pleasurable. I moved it between his legs again, farther back this time. He cursed and groaned, his body growing tense, his breath coming fast.

I used firmer pressure with the toy, and his climax erupted suddenly, a grunt tearing from his throat as he grabbed my head and fisted a hand in my hair, his hips bucking off the floor as his cock surged again and again in my mouth.

When the spasms faded, he moved away from me and the vibrator, which had probably become unbearable. “Christ. What did you just do to me?”

I sat back on my heels, switching off the vibrator and wiping my mouth with the back of my hand. “Did you like it?”

“Yes. No. Yes. Fuck.” His eyes closed. “I don’t generally like the feeling of not being in control, but that felt amazing.”

“Good.” I tossed the vibrator onto the bed.

“Now come here.” He sat up and reached for the front of my dress, pulling me toward him. As I crawled up his body, he lay all the way back. Then he hooked his arms beneath my thighs and snaked beneath me so my knees were on either side of his head, his face between my thighs.

I held my dress up so I could watch him, gasping at the first smooth stroke of his tongue. His eyes stayed locked on mine as he licked and sucked and teased and flicked. But before long my eyes closed in surrender, and my body began to move to its own rhythm, slowly at first—deliciously, delectably slow, riding his tongue, his lips, even his nose. The velvet texture of his tongue played nicely with the scratch of his beard. His greedy moans vibrated through my lower body. His hands clutched the tops of my legs, pulling me to him.

Balling up the front of my dress in one hand, I slid the other into his hair and closed my fingers, gripping tight, as if I was afraid I’d fall off this ride. His mouth fastened on my clit and sucked hard, and I lost whatever control I had left, the orgasm splintering me into a million glittering little pieces.

When I regained the use of my legs, I scooted down his body and collapsed on his chest.

“Thank you,” I said.

“For what?”

“For understanding me. For knowing what I need. For being willing to give it to me.” I closed my eyes. “For being in my corner.”

He stroked my back and spoke quietly. “It’s a nice place to be.”

Our breathing synced, and I wondered if I’d ever felt such peace. “Xander?”

“Hmm?”

I think I’m in love with you. But I bit my tongue rather than risk saying the words out loud. “Nothing. Never mind.”

I couldn’t. I just couldn’t.

In all my life, I’d never told someone I loved them without hearing it first.

Pictures of the outdoor self-defense session were published by the following morning. And of course, it did not appear as if the activities we were engaged in were of the educational sort.

Xander was livid. He stormed out onto the porch and stood there scanning the trees and cracking his knuckles for a solid twenty minutes. I knew better than to talk to him when he got that way, so I gave him some time to cool off. Sipping coffee at the counter, I was sifting through my inbox when the text from Duke came in.

Sorry about how I acted last night. I had a rough week, but that’s no excuse for what I said. You can be introduced with any name you want. What matters is the song, us singing it together. I’ll let the producers know it’s fine with me.

I agree completely. It’s the music that matters. Thank you!

The moment I saw it, I jumped up and ran outside.

“Guess what?” I said excitedly, tapping his shoulder.

“What?” He stood like a sentry keeping watch, not even turning to look at me.

“It worked.”

“What worked?”

“I can perform as Kelly Jo Sullivan.”

He finally faced me. “Really?”

I nodded happily. “Really. I just got a text from Duke. He apologized and said what matters is the music.” Then I jumped up, throwing my arms and legs around him, pressing my lips to his. “I did it! I stood up for myself!”

“You did it.” His hands were solid and strong beneath me. “I’m proud of you.”

I kissed him again, not caring who saw, not caring about anything except sharing this amazing moment with the one who’d encouraged me to make it happen. Not because he’d get anything out of it, but because he cared about me. He wanted me to be happy. He understood the way I—

Suddenly he set me on my feet and launched himself off the porch.

“Xander?” Totally confused, I watched him sprint into the trees.

I ran down the steps and followed him as quickly as I could in my bare feet, wincing as I stepped on rocks and sticks and prickly things.

“Motherfucker!”

I followed the sound of Xander’s angry voice and found him screaming obscenities at a man lying face down on the ground while Xander pinned his arms behind his back.

“Gimme my camera back,” the man complained. “I’ve got a right to do my job.”

“You’ve got a right to shut the fuck up,” ordered Xander. “You trespass on other people’s property, you lose your other rights.”

A few feet away, I saw the camera. I picked it up and moved closer to them. He swung his head to look at me.

I recognized him. “Hoop?”

“See? She knows me!”

Xander looked at me. “You know this cocksucker?”

“I know who he is,” I said. “He’s one of the Nashville paparazzi.”

“That doesn’t sound like a reason I shouldn’t kick his ass.” Xander looked down at Hoop. “The fuck are you doing up here?”

“My job! I told you!”

“How did you know where to replace her?”

Hoop said nothing at first.

“Answer me, you piece of shit.” Xander put more pressure on Hoop’s arms.

“Ow! I just figured it out!” Hoop blurted. “We do it all the time.”

“Xander, it was probably my stupid Instagram post,” I said, uncomfortable with the violence. I didn’t want to see anyone in pain because of me.

“Exactly,” said Hoop. “It was Instagram.”

Xander refused to let up. “That still doesn’t give you the right to come up here and harass her.”

“I wasn’t harassing her! I was just trying to make a buck. I’ve got five kids, okay? And one of them has medical problems. I’ve got a lot of bills to pay.”

“You should have thought about that before breaking the law.”

“Xander, just let him go,” I said.

Xander looked up at me. “Seriously?”

“Yeah.” I don’t know whether it was the fact that it was my fault he’d located me, or the mention of his five kids or the medical bills, or if I was just feeling generous because I’d just scored a big victory right before this happened—but I simply wanted this situation over so I could celebrate it.

“Can I at least smash his camera?” Xander asked.

I shook my head. “No. But you can delete all the pictures before we give it back to him.”

Hoop started to whine. “But I have some nice shots of the sunset over the harbor in there.”

“Fuck off, Hoop,” I said good-naturedly. “What you’re doing here is illegal, and you know it. You’re lucky I’m in a good mood today. Now stay where you are.” I handed the camera to Xander, who deleted all the photos at once before allowing Hoop to get up. It was almost comical looking at the two men standing next to each other—no wonder Xander had subdued him so quickly. Standing chest to chest with Xander, he looked like a flabby weasel facing off against an angry grizzly.

Xander gave him the camera. “Now get the fuck out of here.”

Hoop seemed eager to obey that command and scurried off toward the driveway without argument.

“Bet you anything he’s driving a beige Honda rental,” Xander muttered, watching Hoop disappear into the trees.

“How do you know?”

“Just a hunch.”

“Doesn’t matter,” I said, tugging his arm. “Come here. We were celebrating, remember?”

“That’s right.” He wrapped me in his arms. “You okay?”

“I’m great.” I held him tightly, my ear pressed to his chest. I closed my eyes as a breeze cooled my skin. “I’m happy.”

“I’m sorry it took me so long to replace that guy.”

“Don’t worry about it,” I said. “Hoop’s annoying, but he’s harmless. I’m frankly shocked he had the wherewithal to replace this place and get himself here, let alone hide out in the woods. He must really be desperate.”

“If he’s so broke, how’d he pay for this trip?”

“Who knows?” I loosened my grip and tilted my head back. “Listen, I’m just glad I only had one photographer to contend with up here. Usually it’s a herd of them. And even though he trespassed, it could have been a lot worse. He could have taken pictures through the windows.”

“I wonder why he didn’t,” Xander said. “Wouldn’t he have gotten a lot more money for those?”

“Let’s not look a gift horse in the mouth.” I took his hand again and started walking back toward the cabin. “I should start packing up, get the cabin in order. I have to be back in Nashville tomorrow.”

“What time do you want to leave?”

“About seven a.m. Is that okay?”

He nodded. “I’ll make it work.”

We reached the porch, and Xander pulled the door open for me. “I’ll help you get this place cleaned up, and then we’ll need to go to my house so I can grab a few extra things.”

“Of course,” I said. “Maybe we can have dinner in town. What was that place you wanted to take me before I left?”

“Mo’s Diner. You definitely can’t leave Cherry Tree Harbor without having a burger and milkshake at Mo’s.”

I clapped my hands. “Then let’s do that.”

“I’ll clean out the fridge. Do you have instructions for trash?”

“Yes. One second.” I headed over to the kitchen counter, where I’d left my phone, and pulled up my email. Scrolling through my inbox, I found the message Jess had forwarded with all the check-in and check-out instructions. “Here. Everything is listed in this email.”

He glanced at it and nodded. “Okay. I’ll take care of it. Did you change your password yet?”

“No, but I will do it tonight. I promise.” I gave him a quick kiss on the cheek before hurrying into the bedroom, where I experienced a catch in my chest as I began to repack my clothes in my suitcase. This trip definitely hadn’t been what I’d envisioned for myself—solitude, silence, reflection—but I was leaving with a renewed sense of myself and my self-worth, and I supposed that had been the goal all along.

Funny how Xander had made all the difference after I’d tried so hard to get rid of him. Now I was so grateful he’d come into my life.

Guess I’d have to rewrite our song.

Austin, Veronica, and the kids met us at Mo’s Diner for dinner. It was the quintessential fifties-style hot spot, complete with black and white checkerboard floor, an old-fashioned counter lined with red vinyl and silver chrome stools, signed movie star headshots on the wall, and a juke box in the corner.

Ari was our server, and she recommended the Bollywood Burger, sweet potato fries, and a vanilla milkshake. Sitting in the roomy booth between Xander and Adelaide, across from Austin, Veronica, and Owen, I felt so light and happy, it was like gravity didn’t exist.

When we were done, I hugged Ari and thanked her for the best burger I’d ever had.

“You’re welcome,” she said, taking a little bow. “The Bollywood Burger was my idea. I’m trying to get my parents to stir things up around here. The menu has been the same forever.”

“Well, it was delicious,” I told her. “And the sweet potato fries were perfect with it.”

“Thanks. It was really nice meeting you. Do you think maybe you could send an autographed picture for our wall?” She gestured to the photos above our booth.

“Of course! I’d be honored to grace the wall next to Dashiel Buckley.”

Ari made a face. “I’ll give you a better spot.”

I laughed. “Uh oh. Not a fan of Malibu Splash?”

“It’s complicated.” She waved a hand in the air. “But anyway, thank you so much for coming in! I promise to come to a concert on the next tour.”

“You better! Here, let me give you my number. Just text me what show you want to come to, and I’ll get you good seats and backstage passes.” We exchanged phone numbers and another hug before saying goodbye.

The kids wanted ice cream for dessert, so we wandered down the street, the guys up ahead with the kids, Veronica and I ambling a little ways behind.

“So you’re leaving tomorrow,” she said. “And Xander’s going with you?”

“Yes. He’s going to drive my rented minivan, and then fly home next week.”

“Are you glad to be going home?”

“Kind of.” I shrugged. “I’m excited about the awards show performance, but I also wish I didn’t have to cut my trip short. I really love it here.”

“You can always come back to visit,” she suggested. “I’m sure Xander would like that.”

“Oh, I don’t know. He’ll probably be glad to be rid of me.”

She glanced at the guys ahead of us. “My gut tells me that is not the case. Austin told me earlier he has never seen his brother like this over a girl.”

My face warmed. “Really?”

“Really. Escorting you back to Nashville just to make sure you’re safe there when his bar is opening at the end of next week?”

I winced. “I do feel bad about that.”

“Don’t. Xander is doing exactly what he wants to do.” She leaned into me, nudging me with her shoulder. “Because he cares about you.”

“I care about him too.”

“So why not make an effort to see each other again?”

I studied Xander’s back for a moment, and my stomach muscles tightened. He glanced over his shoulder at me, as if he wanted to make sure I was still there, and I waved before dropping my eyes to the sidewalk again. “Lots of reasons,” I said.

“Name one.”

“Distance. Nashville and Cherry Tree Harbor are not close.”

“You can afford flights, right?”

“I’ll be back on tour by early next year.”

“He could come to you.”

“He’s just starting a business. He can’t be leaving it all the time to follow me around the country.”

“Lots of people have to date long-distance these days. It’s possible.”

I shook my head. “I don’t think either one of us wants that. We’d never see each other. It would get frustrating. He’d probably be worried all the time. And I have some trust issues,” I admitted. “It would be hard for me not to wonder what he was doing when we weren’t together.”

“I get that. But maybe you could have an open relationship. You know, like you agree to be together when you’re together and not be exclusive when you’re apart?”

“No way could I do that,” I said. “It sounds modern and progressive, but I know myself. I’m old-fashioned when it comes to relationships. And probably a bit unrealistic and starry-eyed.”

“How so?”

“I’m a romantic. I want someone to fall for me and only me. I want to be the love of someone’s life.” I laughed a little. “I’ve probably read too many fairy tales and watched too many romantic comedies.”

“I get that,” she said with a sympathetic smile.

“You’d think I’d be jaded after seeing my parents’ dysfunctional marriage—my dad sort of comes and goes as he pleases and my mother just puts up with it. Maybe that’s why I know I could never be okay with an open relationship. I know what it felt like as his daughter every time he left. I know that feeling of hope rising every time he came back.” My throat grew tight. “And I know the crushing disappointment of being abandoned again, wondering if it was my fault.”

Veronica put her arm around my shoulder and squeezed. “I get that too.”

“And then of course, I spent three years with someone who treated me the exact same way.”

“Some people think we seek out our childhood trauma and try to relive it,” she said, “hoping for a better ending.”

“That did not happen for me.” We walked for another minute in silence. “Xander and I actually talked about love,” I told her quietly. “We have very different ideas about it.”

She looked surprised. “Tell me.”

“Well, he’s looking for a comfortable, easygoing kind of thing. He wants someone laidback, someone who makes him laugh. He doesn’t believe in lightning-bolt love, the kind that just—BOOM!—strikes you in the heart and changes your life forever. He says that kind of love doesn’t last and it’s too unpredictable.”

“Oh, Xander,” she sighed.

“In his defense, he’s not one of those guys who never wants to settle down. He does have this vision of himself as a husband and father—he just sort of wants to approach replaceing a wife the way he’d shop for a T-shirt or something. Comfort over style.”

Veronica snickered. “Durability over looks.”

“Definitely she needs to be durable.” I lowered my voice even more. “Xander is built like a battleship and likes the fight.”

She burst out laughing, making the guys turn back and look at us. Attempting to be quiet, she cleared her throat. “I know exactly what you mean.”

We reached the ice cream shop, and Veronica tugged my arm. “If you’re not getting ice cream, come sit with me on the bench.”

I looked at Xander, who looked up and down the nearly empty street and shrugged. “It’s okay. We’ll be out in a minute.”

The guys went inside with the kids, and Veronica and I parked our behinds on a bench near the corner that faced the water. The sun was setting, and the light was golden warm on our faces. I took a breath, savoring the scent of this place—the bay, the fudge, the evergreen trees.

“I wanted to say one more thing.” Veronica pulled her heels up to the bench and wrapped her arms around her legs. “Because I went through this with Austin too. Losing their mom so young affected them in ways they don’t like to talk about.”

I looked over at her. “Actually, he has talked a little about that with me.”

Her eyebrows shot up. “He has?”

“Yeah. He said how he’d sort of prided himself on never being afraid of anything before that happened, and then losing her made him afraid. He hated that feeling.”

“Wow. He really opened up to you. That’s . . . that’s kind of amazing. Xander doesn’t usually admit to weaknesses or fears.”

“No, he doesn’t,” I agreed. “But we’ve been pretty open with each other.” I laughed a little. “When you’re alone with someone twenty-four hours a day, you tell a lot of your stories.”

“So maybe it’s fear holding him back when it comes to falling in love in that lightning-bolt way. Maybe he’s afraid of it.”

I shook my head. “Xander has told me a million times, he’s not afraid of anything anymore.”

“Do you believe him?”

“I have no reason not to.”

Veronica nodded, then looked at the sunset again. “Sometimes lies protect us from feeling things we don’t want to feel. I lived a lie for a long time and almost married the wrong guy because of it. But in my experience, the universe tries very hard to show us we’ll be happier once we admit the truth.”

“What was the truth for you?” I asked curiously.

“That I deserved better,” she said with a smile. “And sure enough, I found it that very day.”

Half an hour later, I gave each twin a squeeze, told them to be good, and invited them to come see a concert sometime if they wanted—my treat.

“Can we?” Adelaide looked hopefully at her dad.

“Sure,” said Austin. “As soon as the tour schedule comes out, we’ll take a look.”

“I don’t get all the way up here, but I do come to Chicago,” I said. “Would that work?”

Austin nodded. “Definitely doable.”

“Great!” I gave Austin a quick hug, then rose up on tiptoe and threw my arms around Veronica—she was a lot taller than me. “Keep in touch, okay? You have my number. I want to hear all about the dance studio opening.”

“Okay.” She spoke softly in my ear so no one could hear. “And call me if you need to talk about Xander.”

I whispered back, “I don’t think there’s much to say.”

We released each other and she shrugged, a tiny smile on her lips. “Maybe not,” she said, “but I’ve got a feeling.”

On the ride home, Xander asked me what Veronica meant. “What does she have a feeling about?”

“She thinks my career is going to get even better,” I lied, too nervous to tell him what Veronica had actually meant. Xander and I had not discussed what would happen after he left Nashville, and I wasn’t ready to have that conversation tonight. “She’s really glad I’m going to start releasing music under my own name.”

“Oh.”

I wasn’t sure if he believed me or not, and I felt guilty—I wasn’t used to hiding the truth from him. But my feelings for him were growing deeper and more complicated, and I didn’t really want to wrestle with that out in the open. What if his weren’t deep or complicated at all? What if he wasn’t worried about missing me or saying goodbye? And even if he was willing to stay in touch, what would be the point? Would we have sex for a couple days and go our separate ways again? What would happen when he met that future wife, the mother of his three rowdy boys?

No. There were just too many obstacles in our way.

The timing. The geography. The views on love and relationships. Plenty of things were all wrong.

So I wouldn’t let myself think about everything that felt so incredibly right.