Page 83 of Chasin’s Surrender

“How was your run?” He heard Genevieve ask.

“Horrible. Holden went with me. My legs are shorter than his, and he kept yelling at me to catch up. Then he was showin’ off by running backward. I’m never running with him again.”

“Yeah, you are. Tomorrow,” Holden boomed. “And your phone’s going off.”

Goddamn. He just wanted one morning alone with his woman, especially after she’d opened up without the slightest bit of prodding. He should’ve taken her straight back to bed to show his appreciation instead of losing control and kissing her on the counter. But after hearing her honesty, seeing her sincerity, and feeling the warmth of her body pressed against his, he’d lost it. He couldn’t stop himself. She tested every limit he had and he didn’t mind he failed. Not when the failure meant his mouth was on hers.

Chasin vaguely heard Genevieve asking Silver about Dylan and Silver's answer, but he was so far in his head plotting his next move he wasn’t paying attention. Though the very loud and angry screech from the living room pulled him from his plans.

“You’re fucking kidding me right now!” Bobby shouted.

Instantly, bodies shuffled out of the kitchen. Once again, Chasin shoved the pan to the back of the stove, angry that Genevieve’s breakfast would be further delayed. By the time he’d made his way into the living room, everyone was staring at a very irate Bobby, pacing the room.

“That’s a problem, Leslie.” Pause. “Yeah? Well, Vivi’s not gonna think so. She’s gonna be pissed. And just to remind you, she let Melissa go yesterday. I can’t speak for her, but if I were you, I’d fix this shit before she has a chance to call you back.” Pause. “Bullshit. You can fix it. Call whoever it is you call to bury shit like this and I’ll call Colleen. I’ll tell Vivi about Bent but I wouldn’t hold my breath.”

Bobby pulled her phone from her ear, stabbed the screen, and turned, looking at the audience she’d gathered. Her eyes went to Genevieve and Chasin braced. The woman was spitting mad but there was a hint of sympathy.

Fucking shit.

“The story leaked. Front page news that Vivi Rush has gone into hiding,” Bobby announced.

Chasin’s arm went around Genevieve and she immediately melted into him. Fuck, that felt good. And any other time, he would’ve taken a moment to enjoy it, but right then, Genevieve was shaking violently, and clinging to him in fear.

“Bent’s in town,” Bobby continued. “He wants a meet and doesn’t want to take no for an answer. He’s told Leslie the new material he has will put you in the country music hall of fame. Of course, Leslie’s all over that shit, even though everyone knows your songs are better than anything he can produce. And Melissa spun the story that she let you go. That story’s out, too, every entertainment outlet picked it up.”

The air sizzled and zapped with hostility. Surprisingly, it wasn’t radiating from the men. Genevieve was vibrating with it and Bobby wasn’t far off.

“No,” Genevieve rumbled. “Hell to the no. I am done.”

Genevieve’s voice was so thick with pain, Chasin’s arm automatically tightened and pulled her closer.

“Viv—”

“No, Bobby. Just no. We talked about it yesterday. You know where I’m at. All my life, I thought this was what I wanted. But it’s not. I don’t want any of this. I want to make music. That’s all. I don’t want the rest. As of right now, I don’t want it infesting anymore of my life. I’m not taking another goddamn second of these people thinking that they can run over me.”

“Okay, Viv. I get you. I agree. What’s the next step?” Bobby’s tone had softened considerably but her small frame was still wound tight.

Genevieve pushed away just enough to look up at Chasin. It took all of his control not to scoop her up and take her somewhere where he could erase the hurt he saw. Her face said it all—grief, sorrow, and heartache. Right in front of him, she was letting her dream go. Then the agony morphed into determination and she gave that to him, too.

“I’m firing my label,” she told him. “That’s what I wanted to talk to you about. I’m getting rid of that stupid house in Tennessee. I’m moving into my uncle’s house until I can sort my life. And I’m writing music. It won’t be the same, but I can make money selling the songs I write. And who knows? If I write something I love and want to record it, I can produce it myself.”

She wasn’t moving into her uncle’s house but Chasin didn’t think it was the right time to tell her that. And besides, he needed to talk to Nixon before he told her his plans.

“Whatever makes you happy, Evie.”

“I don’t know what makes me happy. I felt happy when I was performing, but the second I walk off stage, I remember all the strings that come with that happiness. I’m happy when I lose myself in my music, but the second I finish pouring my soul out on paper, I remember there are strings with that, too. I’ve never been unconditionally happy, until a few weeks ago when I fell off the dock and was rescued by a stranger kayaking. There were no conditions, no restrictions, no strings.

“The only other person who has allowed me to be me is Bobby. No offense to her, she makes me happy, but there was still a hole in me. But that hole is starting to fill up, and the more it does, the happier I become. So, I’m selling my house, I’m stepping away from all the bullshit, I’m moving to Kent County, and I’m gonna be free so you can get to know the real me. I wanted to talk to you about all of this and get your opinion, but Leslie ruined that by forcing my hand. Yet another thing she’s taken from me.”

And at that moment, he understood. Why he’d fallen so fast and hard for her.

This was the Genevieve he’d met.

The woman who wore her heart on her sleeve and let it all hang out. He’d spent two days with her, didn’t learn about her childhood, where she’d come from, what she did for a living, but none of that had mattered. She’d teased him, laughed with him, debated with him over stupid things like Pulp Fiction being the best movie of all times—her opinion, not his. But damn if by the time she was done thoughtfully and smartly arguing her point, he’d almost agreed.

She was beautiful, graceful, classy, funny, and intelligent.

But now he knew more about her. Knew her determination, her pain, her past, and goddamn if he didn’t love her.