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“Are you serious?” Luke glared at Gavin.
“He knew something was up,” Gavin defended.
Luke’s eyes narrowed, and next he focused that glare on Cash. “So, he doesn’t know everything?”
“Of course not.” Gavin sipped from his refilled glass.
Cash looked from Gav to Luke. “What are you—”
“You didn’t read it, did you?” Luke pulled his cell phone out of his back pocket and fired off a text. “That’d have been the first thing I’d have done, but I don’t have your sense of self-preservation.”
Cash’s phone dinged and he checked his messages. Luke had sent a link to Viral Pop’s website.
“Click it,” Gavin advised.
“I know what it says.”
“You don’t,” Luke assured him.
The whiskey must have done its job since Cash felt curious instead of defiant. He clicked the link. The article opened with a photo of him on his own deck, guitar on his lap. The sun was shining, his now-trashed notebook sitting intact at his side.
Presley had taken that photo. He remembered her asking if she could use it in her article. He’d agreed to let her.
The headline read “Cashing In.”
Beneath that read “Everything you wanted to know about singer-songwriter Cash Sutherland. Except for one secret that will forever stay buried.”
His heart thudded as he skimmed the article. She didn’t write about “Lightning”?
Dammit, he’d gift-wrapped that for her. Then again, if she hated him, she probably didn’t want to be hounded by the press about being his inspiration, he thought miserably.
The article began with details about Elite Records and the harrowing rebuild after last season’s storms. Then it mentioned Hannah and Cash’s duet and how it was sure to bolster the label. She wrote about his struggle following a “bogus” DUI. She cited a source in the Beaumont Bay police department who corroborated that they were investigating the charges, as they’d suspected a faulty Breathalyzer.
By the time he read the words “Back for Good,” he saw that Presley had thrown him under the bus as well, stating the song was “the first single from his highly anticipated second album.” She then mentioned she’d been granted an early listen, which made him remember her in his bed as he lazily strummed his guitar.
He didn’t know how much more he could take, but his brothers clearly weren’t going to let up.
“This part.” Gavin stabbed the phone’s screen.
Cash kept reading.
I uncovered the inspiration behind Cash’s most famous song. I had my own theories about whom he’d written it about, but his answer surprised me. I have no doubt that if I disclosed the mystery woman, you would be equally surprised. I never saw it coming. And while I could disclose what I’ve learned, I wouldn’t feel right about doing that here. But I do know one thing for sure. Cash’s muse loves him to this day, and she’d light her whole world on fire to be his forever. No regrets.
There was more to the article but Cash had stopped reading. He was still staring at the “loves him” part and trying to decide if that was hyperbole or if she was telling the truth. Surely, she couldn’t be in love with him after...
The service elevator rattled to a stop and Will stepped out. Then a vision walked in behind him, and Cash’s heart became lodged in his throat.
Presley was wearing a black dress and high-heeled shoes. The very same, if memory served, as she’d worn when she’d shut herself into the elevator with him that past fated night.
“Look who I ran into in the lobby,” Will said. “Small world. How far behind am I?”
“At least one,” Luke said, pouring a whiskey for Will.
Cash stood from his seat, his brothers forgotten. She’d come back. To him.
She’d put her whole heart out there for him to see. He’d never had the guts to do that for her. He’d been too busy protecting himself. She said she’d set her world on fire for him. She said she’d have no regrets. Had she forgiven him after all?
“Hiya, cowboy,” she said with a smile.
