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Chapter Four
“Ican’t believe I letyou talk me into this,” I say, pausing on the sidewalk under a huge sign that readsThrive–the bar where Hudson is apparently playing.
We’ve been in Nashville a total of three hours and while every part of me has been dying to reach this moment, now that we’re here I have the sudden urge to turn around and run in the opposite direction.
“Relax, Len.” Emma slides an arm across my shoulders. “He’s gonna be over the moon to see you.”
“And what if he isn’t?” I voice my real concern out loud for the first time.
“He will be,” she assures me, giving me a squeeze before dropping her arm. “You look incredible. There’s no way he’s going to see you and not lose his fucking breath.” She smiles, her eyes sliding down my outfit.
Since it’s a bit chillier in Tennessee, I decided against the dress Emma tried to get me to wear and settled on a pair of dark skinny jeans partnered with an off the shoulder charcoal sweater. My black boots hit me about mid-calf, accessorized with charcoal boot socks with black bows on the sides. I kept my hair down and wavy and my make-up natural.
I feel good. Not particularly sexy like I did the night I met Hudson, but definitely more myself. Which if I remember correctly, Hudson really liked.
“Come on, girl. Everything will be great, you’ll see.” Emma loops her arm through mine and pulls me through the front door of the bar.
The moment we step inside, it’s clear to see that it’s standing room only. People are packed into the small space like sardines, talking so loudly you can barely hear the music coming from the in house speaker system.
My eyes find the stage which is set up with full band equipment only there’s no band in sight.
Leaning into Emma, I practically shout, “I thought Hudson was playing.”
“He’s probably on a break or something. Come on,” she says, giving my arm another tug as she pulls me further into the room.
I fumble forward, my eyes scanning the crowd until they land on the side of Hudson’s smiling face and my entire body freezes.
Emma must feel me go rigid next to her as I feel her eyes on the side of my face before she turns to follow my line of sight.
“See, told ya he’d be here...” The last word trails off as she takes in the same scene that I am.
Hudson’s sitting at a round high top table to the right of the stage, a stunning brunette in his lap, and two blondes filling the other two seats next to him.
The woman in his lap leans down and whispers something in his ear. He drops his head back and laughs, the sound seeming to vibrate through me even though I can’t actually hear it.
“Probably just some groupie.” Emma bumps her shoulder against mine.
And that’s when it happens. That’s when I watch the perfect brunette dip her head, her lips landing on Hudson’s. I watch as she practically swallows his face for all of three seconds before I move in the opposite direction.
My chest feels tight and tears sting the back of my nose the instant the cool evening air hits my face. Walking a good ten feet away from the front entrance, I don’t stop until Emma’s fingers close around my wrist from behind.
“Lennon.”
“DonotLennon me.” I rip my arm out of her grasp, spinning on my heel to face her. “I told you to leave it alone. I told you I didn’t want to do this. I knew this would happen. I knew it.” I throw my hands up in the air.
“You don’t even know what’s going on in there, Len. She could be nothing more than some bimbo trying to throw herself at the hot guy on the mic tonight.”
“Sure didn’t look like she had to throw very hard,” I bite, emotion welling in my throat.
I’m pissed. Pissed that I came here against my better judgment. Pissed that less than a week after he was in my bed, he’s making out with another girl. When I’ve been unable to think about anything but him. And I’m furious with myself for feeling as hurt as I do right now.
I’m not naïve enough to believe that after a one night stand he would swear off any woman that wasn’t me. But deep down I’d hoped it would take him longer to shake me. Lord knows I haven’t shaken him.
Song worthy.That’s what his note had said. Song worthy. Yeah, maybe a song about all the notches in his bedpost. My stomach rolls at the thought.
“Lennon,” Emma tries again.
“What did I expect?” I swipe angrily at a tear that manages to escape my eye; even more pissed that I’m crying over him too.
