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The playback starts, and I hear myself, every note full of pain and heartbreak. Jeremy shakes his head. “Damn, that’s good. I can’t believe she actually did it. She didn’t seem strong enough, figured she’d be hanging on your coattails as long as she could.”
He laughs like he said something funny.
“What?”
I have no idea what Jeremy is talking about, but a stone has settled in my stomach. Something’s wrong, my instincts yell.
“The girl . . . what was her name? Willa? Winnie? The blonde with glasses.” He makes circles with his fingers, laying them over his eyes like glasses.
“Willow?” I growl. “When did you talk to her?”
Jeremy must sense the danger zone he’s stumbled into because he stammers, his smile fading quickly. “Uh, that first night I heard you play. She was behind the bar, and I asked her who you were.”
That rings false, even though I know that happened. There’s more, I can feel it in his need to back away from this conversation.
“And then?”
Jeremy finds his balls, tucked up somewhere in those khaki pants. “Well, you couldn’t very well expect me to let a talent like yours go without a fight. I came back out there to track your ungrateful ass down. The girl—”
“Willow,” I correct.
He rolls his eyes dismissively, “Fine . . . Willow didn’t seem to know about your turning the deal down. She seemed to think I didn’t offer you one. I told her what you’d done and she said she’d take care of it for you. I didn’t figure she had it in her. Girl like that, and a guy like you, she had to know it was only a matter of time for you to realize you could do better.” He scoffs like that’s an obvious conclusion when it’s anything but. He even smiles like we’re good ol’ boy buddies and he’s not the asshole who fucked up my life.
Red slashes across my vision and my fist flies through the air before I even intentionally make a fist.
Pop!
Jeremy’s jaw makes a loud sound as the punch lands. It’s a good thing those teeth are all cemented in or I would’ve knocked one or two out.
I grab his shirt, twisting it in my fist and lifting him up.
“You manipulative son of a bitch. You had no right! I made my choice and you fucked it up.” I’m yelling in Jeremy’s face, which has gone pale, spitting out the pain he caused, raging with the sharp loss again as though it’s new and fresh, not days old.
Miller touches my arm. “Let’s all calm down here. Take a breath, man.” He’s using some soothing, chanting voice I haven’t heard from him before. He must have experience talking down crazed musicians because shockingly, it works.
All the puzzle pieces click together in an instant.
The most important of which is . . .
She’s mine and I fucking lost her.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
I drop Jeremy to the floor, running toward the door. I don’t stop by the hotel, don’t need any of that shit. I need to get home.
Now.
Hang on, Willow. I’m coming for you, sweetheart. And we’ve got some shit to get straight right the fuck now.
Number one, you’re mine.
Number two, I’m yours.
Number three, nothing else matters.
Chapter 25
Bobby
I drive all night, fueled by endless energy drinks and total terror. I can only imagine what Jeremy must’ve said to her. That’s what was wrong, why she pulled away from me and told me to go to Nashville. She knew I’d turned Jeremy down for her, and for some damn reason, she thought sending me away and running back to the city was what needed to happen.
His cocky predator’s grin, enjoying breaking her heart, flashes in my head. Her face falling in hurt shock. I create scenarios again and again of how that conversation might’ve gone and get angrier with each replay.
How did I miss this?
Because while Jeremy fucking Marshall deserved that punch, the person who should be getting his ass kicked is me. I was the one who fucked it up by not being honest with her. I ruined it. I didn’t protect her.
Instead, she protected me. From myself.
Fuck that.
I’m going home, gonna grab her by that sweet little ass, kiss the fuck out of her, and show her what love is. For the rest of our lives, if she’ll let me.
Don’t give up on me. Surrender to us. Nothing else matters outside the world we create.
I finally make it back to Great Falls and Hank’s late on Thursday afternoon, my hand still aching from punching Jeremy. I’ve driven straight through and feel like hell, but I couldn’t stop, wouldn’t stop until I made it to Willow. The gravel in the lot crunches under my boots as I stride toward the door, my heart frozen in my chest.
“Willow!” I yell over the door’s creak.
