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I groaned. “Mm-mm, no, ma’am. We are absolutely not havin’ a repeat of prom.”
Laney laughed, covering her face with her hands. “It wasn’t that bad.”
“Wasn’t that bad? You set fire to the couch in the teacher’s lounge, woman. It was definitely that bad.”
“I didn’t realize nail polish remover was so flammable!” she defended herself, blushing when she caught Paisley staring at her with eyes as wide as saucers. “Ah, listen. Whatever you hear about my past on this trip goes to the grave with you.”
Paisley shuddered. “Laney Cole setting fire to the teacher’s lounge couch is not something I’d want to get out. Trust me.”
I stood back while Laney greeted my friends with hugs and introduced them all to her manager. Apparently, Laney was fine with the fact that her boyfriend was currently surrounded by a bunch of women whose husbands lingering nearby did mind. And I was fine with it too. Time with Laney without Riley—even if Paisley was here—was better than nothin’. But as the two of them made small talk with my friends, I couldn’t help but notice the way Jack stared at Paisley like he’d just seen an angel.
Oh boy. I’d better warn him not to get any ideas. If I knew anything, I knew there was no sense in falling for a woman whose heart was tied up in the allure of the country music scene. Paisley might be Laney’s manager, but it seemed to me she was the conductor of the speeding bullet train that was my ex’s life, and there was no way she’d slow down and spend her days with him in Charlotte Oaks instead.
“Well,” Laney said when there was a break in their chitchat, “it was good to see y’all. I’d better go make my rounds so Paisley’s satisfied that I’ve done my small-town girl job tonight.”
“The more I learn about what you really did as a small-town girl, the less literal I want you to take that whole thing, you hear me?” Paisley raised a finger and pointed it at Laney, who only rolled her eyes and laughed in response.
Memories of our past flew through my mind like they were playing on an old movie reel. Friday night games with Laney in the stands, post-game bonfires, failed attempts at cow-tipping, bareback horse riding on her uncle’s ranch, road trips on Sunday afternoons, lounging in my truck bed under the stars. All the stuff she wrote songs about, and all the stuff that haunted me when I’d lie in bed alone at night, wishing we could go back but knowing we never would.
“See y’all later,” Laney said with a final wave.
We watched them go, then Brandon patted my chest. “Man, this sucks for you, huh?”
“Yep,” I replied, not bothering to play it cool.
I didn’t have the energy. I’d spent the last six years pretending I wasn’t still head over heels in love with Laney Cole, and I was simply beat from the effort. Not only from that but also from pretending I wasn’t heartbroken as all get out to see her here with him. It took a toll, and I was done.
But I wasn’t gonna talk about it in any real capacity—unless Cindy jinxed me with that extra drink ticket and my half a beer was enough to make me lose my cool.
“Jack,” I said, turning to my friend with a warning stare, “I saw how you were lookin’ at her friend, and I’m tellin’ you, man … it ain’t worth it.”
“What? I wasn’t lookin’ at her friend,” he defended himself, brushing me off with a stilted laugh.
“Son, you were a deer in headlights, no doubt about it,” Brandon deadpanned.
Jack grunted. “No, I wasn’t.”
“Whatever you gotta tell yourself,” I said, holding up a hand. “But take it from me. There’s no way she’s gonna leave all them bright lights in order to settle down in Charlotte Oaks with you, so whatever you’re thinkin’, just don’t.”
Instead of replying, Jack’s eyes shot over my shoulder, and he let out a low whistle.
My stomach knotted up before I even turned around, but I risked a look over my shoulder and saw Laney standing behind me with tears in her blue eyes. “I was just comin’ over to ask if you wanted to dance. I thought we could … talk.”
I opened my mouth to reply—not even sure I had a plan for what to say—but she was already running for the door.
14
LANEY
“Laney,” Everett called as he burst through the door and out into the night.
“Just leave me alone,” I yelled over my shoulder, thankful once again that the bloodhounds with their fancy cameras were trapped out of sight from the parking lot. Paisley deserved a raise for that little bit of foresight. I could see the headline now: “Laney Cole Leaves Reunion in Tears.”
With Everett hot on my heels, I hustled toward my dad’s truck, not sparing him a glance. How dare he act like it was me and my need for “all them bright lights” that’d torn us apart. It wasn’t like that at all, and he knew it. And hearing him talk like that had me feeling like I’d been chewed up and spit out.
Had years of silence allowed him to believe that bogus narrative or was he simply trying to act tough for his friends? Was that the story he’d told them behind my back all this time? That I’d chosen fame and fortune over him and this town?
“Hold up, darlin’. Give me a chance to explain.”
