Page 31 of What They Say

“Better?” she asked, cheeks still flushed but voice steadier now.

Chase let his gaze linger for a respectful moment, appreciative but not hungry, before meeting her eyes again. “Much better,” he said softly, warmth threading through his words. “You look comfortable. And honestly? Kind of adorable right now.”

Kath laughed, the sound light and relieved, and bumped her bare knee against his. “You’re ridiculous.”

“Maybe. But I’m your kind of ridiculous.” He nudged her shoulder with his. “Now show me those lyrics before I start writing bad poetry about how brave you are. Remember that you don’t have to show me anything you don’t want to,” Chase said quietly, shoulder brushing hers. “Nothing but what you want when it comes to your art.”

Kath gave a small, self-conscious laugh. “I never show these to anyone. Not even Emy gets the raw ones, and she’s my sister from another mister.” She glanced sideways at him. “But...I don’t know. I feel like you might get it.”

Her smile softened into something deeper, more vulnerable. She opened the notebook, legs swinging gently in the cool night air, flipping to what appeared to be a destination within the book.

Chase stayed quiet, giving her space. After a moment, she cleared her throat and started reading.

Her voice was low, a little rough around the edges, like she was still deciding whether to trust him with this.

“He looked like safety wearing danger’s face, and part of me wanted to burn down the whole damn place, said I’m just like her, chasing smoke and fire, but I’d rather burn bright than live cold and tired...”

Chase felt the words settle somewhere deep in his chest. They weren’t polished. They were raw, honest, a little angry. He could hear the years of watching her mother, the fear of becoming her, the stubborn refusal to let that happen.

She read another one, then another. Each lyric felt like she was handing him pieces of herself she usually kept locked away. Chase listened with his whole body, heart beating steady and hard.

And underneath her words, a melody kept looping in his head.

It started simple in his mind, just a warm, rolling acoustic line that rose and fell with the emotion in her voice. Then a heavier, driving rhythm underneath it, something that felt like the bike on an open road. The tune wouldn’t leave him alone—it wrapped around her lyrics like it had been waiting for them.

If I had my guitar right now...

The thought hit him hard. He could see it so clearly, a future of sitting here with her, trading lines, building something together in real time. Not just listening. Creating.

Kath finished the last verse and went quiet, closing the notebook like she was embarrassed.

“Those are rough,” she muttered. “I know they’re not—”

“They’re good,” Chase said, cutting her off gently. “Really good. The last one especially...it feels like freedom and fear at the same time. Like you’re fighting to keep your own fire.”

She looked up at him, surprised. Vulnerable.

Chase continued, voice low. “I’ve had this melody stuck in my head the whole time you were reading. It’s not fully formed yet, but...it fits. Like it was waiting for your words.” He let out a soft laugh. “If I had my guitar with me right now, I’d be trying to work it out with you. We’d probably be writing something real.”

Kath stared at him for a long moment. Then a small, wondering smile tugged at her lips.

“You hear music when I read my lyrics?”

“Yeah.” Chase shrugged, a little self-conscious now. “Does that sound crazy?”

“No,” she whispered. “It sounds...nice.”

They sat there in the quiet, the night air cool around them. Chase could still hear the half-formed melody in his head, threading through the memory of her voice. He wanted to chase that feeling. Wanted to sit with her for hours, turning her words into something they could both stand on.

He didn’t reach for her hand. Didn’t try to kiss her.

He just sat beside her on the tailgate, shoulder to shoulder, letting the possibility settle between them like the stars overhead.

Chase breathed deeply, holding tight to the feeling that he wasn’t just following someone else’s path.

He felt like he was starting to build one of his own—and Kath might be the best part of it.

***