I’m flattered.
And confused.
I check my texts and see his most recent one.
CONNOR NASH
Another killer show! You are on fire, LJ. I need to get closer so I can warm my hands by your flames.
Is he … is this …
Does he like me?
I’ve thought all this time that he was being friendly and, yeah, definitely flirty. But is he just being playful, or is heactuallyflirting?
Heat creeps over me at the same time that my lungs squeeze.
I have had a crush on this man since I was a teenager.
Do I still?
I’m sorely tempted to call the Janes and have them put me on speakerphone in the conference room, but a quick glance at the time tells me they’re busy with more important things. Jane will be at home with Tripp, probably having a cozy dinner on the farm. Millie and Duke are probably getting Lottie ready for bed. Parker, Sonny, Ash, and Rusty are out at the Mullet Ridge Ice Plex watching Sean’s game—I can see from Ash’s stories.
And I’m alone in this quiet, lifeless dressing room, wondering if Connor Nash has a crush on me like a fifteen-year-old girl.
Do Iwanthim to like me? Of course I do. It’s beyond flattering. But what do I actually know about the man that I didn’t learn from Wikipedia and TMZ when I was a teen in my Duncan and Nash era?
Nothing.
We don’t know each other. We text about music, but not about anything else. That means if he likes me at all, it’s for the same reasons I like him: looks and, I hope, talent.
Neither of those are enough to build a relationship on. And I’m not planning to build a relationship with anyone, anyway.
Does that stop me from Googling him?
No, no it does not.
Nathaniel Connor LeDuc, known professionally as Connor Nash, is an American musician, singer, and songwriter who achieved fame as a guitarist and singer in the country-rock duo Duncan and Nash. After the band disbanded, he found instant critical and commercial success in his solo career, with his first album, Waiting Out Loud, debuting at number one on the Billboard and CMT charts.
I skip past some of the career highlights and early life details until my eyes catch on one particular fact?—
Connor Nash attended the New England Conservatory of Music.
A prickle of heat rises to my cheeks as I toss my phone onto the couch and push to my feet, my thoughts spinning too fast to catch.
I head out of my dressing room, my boots tapping a sharp staccato against the hallway floor as I make my way to the stage. The venue is bustling—crew adjusting lights, checking levels, moving equipment—but I barely register it. My focus is locked on one thing.
Patty.
He’s center stage, adjusting a speaker when I stop beside him, arms crossed, waiting for him to acknowledge me. When he doesn’t, I clear my throat.
“You knew Connor Nash.”
Patty glances up at me, cool as a cucumber, but his shoulders tense. “Everyone knows Connor Nash.”
I exhale through my nose. “Yeah, but not everyone went to college with him.”
His nostrils flare as something shifts in his expression. “Is that what you think?”
