Right. Never. I’d been with too many selfish men. And before that, way before, Rhys and I had been too young to really understand what we wanted. That was what I’d told myself anyway.
Teenage lovemaking was exploratory but hurried. Innocent, yet at the time so naughty.
What did adult Rhys like?—
Not going there. At all.
“Want me to check on the girls?” I offered and hung the dish towel up.
He was peering out the window over the sink. “No, I just saw them run by.”
I leaned against the counter. He’d apologized and I should drop it, but he had to know I hadn’t meant to blow into his life and create conflict between him and his kids. “I really am sorry about overstepping earlier. I shouldn’t have offered without talking to you.”
“Been surrounded by a bunch of yes-men?”
His teasing lacked bite, but he didn’t realize how wrong he was. “If I had been, I wouldn’t be here.”
“Why are you?” His soft tone and the genuine concern in his eyes made me want to do nothing but spill my guts. I used to talk to him about everything and anything. He’d been my rock.
My family would listen, but also, they weren’t Rhys.
I chewed the inside of my cheek and pushed off the counter. I had my arms wrapped around myself as Iwandered into the living area. The corner of the couch beckoned me. I wanted to burrow into the cushions and pretend I wasn’t some foolish girl who’d thought she’d known what she’d been getting into.
“Six months ago, I broke up with the guy I was seeing.” I peeked at him from under my lashes. He was still looking at the window. “Finn Calhoun.”
Finally, he turned, pinning me with a dark gaze. There was a spark of recognition in his eyes, but he remained silent.
Was I really going to tell him the story? I had planned to ruminate over it for a couple more days and then call my sisters. They’d be righteously angry. I’d feel validated.
Rhys wasn’t a neutral third party, but I needed to talk about why I’d left Nashville. I needed to handle my own emotions about it and not someone else’s.
“Finn was cheating on me. Big surprise.” I licked my lower lip and dropped my attention to my twisting fingers. “It was actually. A surprise. We have the same manager, Lucy, and she said he was a changed man. He wanted a real relationship with someone who knew the life, who knew what it was like to get bitten by the writing bug and want to hole up in some house with nothing but takeout for days. He wanted a true connection. So, she introduced us at a party. I fell for him. I fell for it.”
He cocked his head at the last part. “What do you mean?”
He crossed to the chair that faced the end of the couch I was on and sat on the edge. His sleeves were still rolled up, and he propped his elbows on his knees and clasped his hands.
Words evaporated. I was not telling this mature, virile, handsome-as-hell man that I’d been an idiot for man-children over and over, was I?
But I’d already started. “Before him was Toby. He plays hockey for the?—”
“I’ve heard of him,” he said curtly.
“You can’t imagine how many women he slept with when I was gone playing for shows.” My laugh dripped with bitterness. “Maybe you can. I didn’t. I don’t know how he stayed upright on skates when he was horizontal so often.” I shook my head. “I fell for it again. And before him was Clinton. He ran a recording studio. A normal guy, Lucy said. She introduced us, and we started working together. He liked to fuck other women in the studio. I got to see for myself.” I looked up at the ceiling before I could start crying. “Lucy came with me that day, and we walked in on Clinton and some young thing who thought he was her key to making it big.” I swiped at my eyes. I didn’t miss a single one of those guys. I missed the girl who’d thought she could trust people. “Lucy was my support then too. She encouraged me to pour my feelings out in words. That’s how I started with my songs, so why not use it now? My albumHushcame from that breakup. Then I met Toby and I got more inspiration. Happier songs. Then he broke my heart and I was back to writing my angst. ‘A good balance’ was how my record label described that album. In fact, that’s what we named it.Good Balance.”
The girls’ laughter filtered into the cabin. This place hadn’t heard that sound in far too long.
“When I was with Finn,” I continued, “I was opening on tour, but we were working on songs together. Nothing was really clicking—he can be a little set in hisways—and my record company has been on my ass about a new album. After the tour, I was tired, you know? I wanted to just enjoy the breather and not have to hustle so much. But my record label wants a new album. Lucy said I was ready for my own big tour. My numbers were high enough that I could book stadiums and arenas and have my own opening acts. I asked for time. That was when Lucy called to meet me at a bistro in Nashville, and lo and behold, guess who was in a booth kissing a girl who’s still in college?”
More tears tracked down my cheeks. Not for Finn. By then, I had expected him to hurt me. I’d been waiting for it.
“That fucker.” Rhys moved to the couch, sitting in the middle. He put a big, hot hand on my knee. “Fuck him.”
I snorted. “She sure did.” I couldn’t look into those deep-blue eyes and keep going. I stared at my fingers and willed his hand to stay on me. “I was devastated. Again. My manager kept pressuring me to pour my emotions into writing. ‘You know how it is with you. You turn pain into art.’ Her words, not mine.”
“True though.”
Surprised, I glanced up at him.
