I have questions—so many questions—but I push them aside. Excitement squeezes my lungs and makes my heart feel like it’s bursting out of my chest. It pulses in my head, but it’s not as painful as it was only a couple of minutes ago.
“This is the last time I’m going to ask this: are you serious? You have obligations here. You own a bar.”
I wait for him to change his mind, and when he pauses, I wonder if he’s waitin’ for the same thing. When he speaks, his words sound like they’re being pulled from deep within the ground. “I own it with my brother and dad, and we have plenty of help. And you should know something: I always say what I mean.”
Why that makes me shiver, I have no clue. But I push that reaction aside and allow myself to feel the weight—no, the lightness—of his words. The thrill I’ve been keeping on a tight leash finally bursts through, and I take the first deep breath I’ve taken all day. “Okay. I’ll get your number from Ash and text you some details.”
His tone is flat, but his voice drops slightly, and the intensity there tells me he means every word. “Can’t wait.”
That same dangerous shiver runs over me, and I want to shake myself. This is the moment I should change my mind,walk away. But I can’t. Not because I want to test him or because I want to see how far I can push him before he snaps and admits he cares about something. That would be irrational. Crazy, even.
No, I can’t walk away because I need him.Need, not want.
I don’twantanything or anyone. Except to prove myself. To show I belong.
Can’t wait, he said.
And despite the warning bells, I have to admit the truth: neither can I.
CHAPTER THREE
PATTY
“Sean, Dad, I have to talk to y’all about something.”
It’s just past closing, and Sean and I are cleaning up for the night while Dad counts out the register. He’s already put his forearm crutches down and is sitting in his wheelchair, but he looks up from counting the money.
“Anything,” Dad says.
Sean nods. “Go ahead.”
“I have the chance to go on tour with Lucy Jane as a sound tech.”
Sean’s laugh is more of a scoff. “A sound tech? Isn’t that a bit beneath you, Piano Man? Besides, she may be pretty, but you can’t stand Lucy Jane’s music.”
“You don’t know Lucy Jane’s music,” Dad says with a snort. “You’ve never let us play it for more than two seconds.”
“I can learn to like it,” I say, even though they’re right and I’m lying through my teeth. Ever since I heard that chorus with its stomps and claps and that inane line—“It’s all a bunch ofbaby llama drama”—I banned her music in the bar. Her brand of country-pop nonsense makes my ears bleed.
But that doesn’t matter, because this tour could change everything. It could change all our futures. Maybe it could even right the past.
“She has a concert coming up with Connor Na?—”
“Do it,” Sean interrupts.
“Don’t do it,” Dad says.
The two swap loaded glances.
I’ve tried to become as unflappable as a guy can be in the last several years, but this is an opportunity I’ll never get again, and just thinking about it makes the blood in my veins rush faster.
“This is my one shot,” I say with more urgency than I should.
I keep telling myself this is about money. About Dad’s surgery. But something about Lou’s offer hit a nerve.
Not hope. Just … the chance to matter at something again.
Dad frowns. “One shot at what?”
