TWENTY-TWO
Luca
Grace gotme into the recording studio early the next week to start laying down tracks. McKenzie came when she could, and I started to wonder how I’d ever made music without her. She wasn’t afraid to tell me when something wasn’t working, but she was also generous with her praise. For the entire month of November, what time wasn’t spent in the recording studio was spent with her. We spent part of Thanksgiving with one another too. She came to Dallas and Katie’s after having dinner with her mom, and it was perfect. That evening, she came back to the hobbit house with me, and I played her a few more songs I’d been working on.
What was supposed to be an EP ended up becoming a full-length album; once I gave voice to the thoughts in my head, they all demanded to be heard. I had more material than I knew what to do with, so I tucked some of it away in my notebook to save for later after Grace said she felt confident there would be a second one.
By the time afternoon rolled around the second Thursday in December, the album was already half recorded. We decided to stop for the day, and Grace and I stepped outside into the cold air.
“Come on,” I said, leading her to my car. “We’re going to lunch.”
“You’re buying.” She beamed up at me with her signature smile, and years flashed before my eyes. When I first met Grace, she was just a teenager backstage with her mom and Liv, Ella’s best friend, at one of our meet and greets. And now, here she was, a grown woman—Cash’s protégé and stepdaughter—managing my career. I could never have anticipated how that single moment in time, one that could’ve easily been as ordinary as the rest, would set in motion a series of events that would change the rest of our lives.
I grinned over at her as I unlocked the door, opening it for her.
“Look at you being a gentleman,” Grace teased as she climbed in. “McKenzie’s been good for you.”
I smirked as I moved around to the other side and slid behind the wheel.
“I’ll have you know it’s notallMcKenzie’s doing,” I said. “Though she’s definitely helped.”
She laughed, gazing out the window as I pulled out of the studio parking lot. “I know. I’m just teasing you.”
We made the short drive down the street to The Loving Pie Company and parked out front. She fell in step beside me as we walked inside, and the owner, whom I recognized from being there countless times over the years, seated us in the back by the window.
“You are different, though,” Grace said once we were left to browse our menus.
“How so?” I asked, not looking up.
“You’re softer,” she answered. “Kinder. To yourself and everyone else. Not that you haven’t always had a certain softness lurking beneath all your attitude and crude remarks.”
My eyes flicked up to hers.
“You thought I didn’t notice?” She raised her brows. “I may have been a teenager when I met you, but I still saw things over the years. You’ve always had a gentle side. It comes out when you think people aren’t looking and maybe most people aren’t paying attention. But I saw it. And even though you were a jerk sometimes, you’ve always been pretty great to me.”
I tilted my head. Katie had said something similar to me several months back. I’d thought this softer side had only appeared once I’d begun to chip away at the armor that had kept my emotions locked away for so long. But maybe there had always been cracks in the foundation I’d spent most of my life constructing.
“I don’t feel like I’ve been great to anyone,” I confessed. “I spent a lot of time shutting people out. It was easier to push everyone away than it was to admit I fucking cared.”
“We still knew,” she said softly.
“That doesn’t mean I shouldn’t have said it. I’m sorry, Grace.” I shook my head. “I wasn’t there to celebrate you when you got engaged. Or to support you and your mom when your grandmother passed away. I wasn’t there, and I should’ve been.”
“You’re here now,” she said as though it was just that simple.
I attempted to swallow down the lump in my throat. “That doesn’t feel like enough.”
“But it is,” she insisted. “When you love someone, thatisenough.”
My blurred gaze fell to the folded menu in front of me, and I cleared my throat. Telling people I love them wasn’t something I did often before I finally hit rock bottom, before I’d started therapy. I still wasn’t entirely comfortable with these displays of affection or feeling my emotions, but I was getting better. It was becoming easier.
I blinked back the moisture glossing over my eyes. “I do love you guys. Even if I haven’t always done the best job of showing it.”
“We still knew,” she said again.
“And while I’m admitting things, I want you to know, I’m glad you’re here. That it’s you helping me with this project.” I folded my arms, leaning them on the table. “It feels right. I’m glad Cash is involved too, of course. But having you in the driver’s seat…It feels like a new beginning. The start of something big for both of us.”
“I’m happy I’m here too.”
