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He takes me in his arms before kissing my forehead. “Be careful with your heart, honey.”
“I will, Dad,” I say again, hugging him back. “I will.”
Dad parks the truck in the back lot of the Ryman. He knows the owner so we always have a spot. I jump out of the car when I see the big tour bus Rone travels in. The door of the touring car opens and Rone steps out, wearing all black.
“Rone,” I yell. And when he notices me, his face lights up with an earth-shattering smile.
I run and jump into his arms, my legs on his hips as he swings me around. I brush his long hair behind his ears and bring my lips to his, kissing him hard. His face breaks into a huge grin when we both come up for air. He kisses me again before setting me on the ground, still holding my hand.
Dad, Axl, and Gunner, who is carrying my suitcase and bag, walk up to him. Rone shakes hands with them and takes the bags, opening the side of the bus and throwing them in.
I feel feverish and giddy at the same time. It is going to be my first time on a tour bus, not counting the times I know of from my baby pictures when Mom and Dad had toured the country, and I’m so excited.
Rone talks into the walkie talkie fixed to his shoulder, asking the guy at the other end to get our passes. Larry, one of the crew guys, walks out while Rone shows us around the bus and hands us our passes. We hang them around our necks and follow Larry inside the Ryman.
The show is sold out. It is the last one before a small break. We say hello to Jesse and the other guys from the band. His father looks happy and slaps Rone on the back, grinning at me.
We watch the show from our front-row seats. My face hurts from all my smiling. I track Rone as he helps his father on stage, handing him a new guitar for different songs. The crew members and sound technicians all know what to do. Catching me staring he smirks at me. And the thrill I get when he looks my way is as intense as ever.
When the show ends, we make our way backstage where we have drinks with the whole crew.
Then I say goodbye to my brothers and father next to the tour bus.
They all hug me, and after a man-to-man talk between my father and Rone, we are off. We settle in the front lounge, talking with each other, laughing and joking with his father and the band.
It feels like yesterday that I was with him in California. I’m the luckiest girl alive. He has become my best friend in the months we’ve been apart; we can talk about everything. He isn’t afraid to tell me his opinion, and I’m not afraid to give him a piece of my mind. We don’t agree on every single thing, but the most important parts are set in stone.
Most of all, he has my back. He even helped me study for my algebra final over FaceTime, and I passed with flying colors. I found out I graduated high school last week. Rone had wanted to take me to prom but I didn’t care about it. I’m glad to be free and leave my teenage years behind.
I can’t believe I am going to spend my birthday with him.
Dad and the guys surprised me with an early birthday present before the big day on Saturday. Dad hadn’t told us he’d rented a storage space that he filled with Mom’s clothes and stuff she’d accumulated over her years on the road. All her vintage clothes, I can now wear: shirts and leather jackets people pay hard-earned money for online.
Mom loved to shop and the black high-waisted Levi’s and band shirts fit me perfectly. Not to mention her customized skinny leather pants she wore when they got married in Mexico.
Before I know it, we are stopping at a side entrance to the Nashville Airport. The gate opens and leads to a hangar. My mouth drops to the floor of the bus when I discover a black private plane waiting.
“Is that for us?” I ask, looking around at the band.
Navarone nods, smiling. “Only us.”
I follow him off the bus. His dad and the band members follow suit.
“Dad here called one of his old touring buddies and punched in his favor card,” Rone says, slapping Jesse on the back and grinning from ear to ear.
I hug Jesse and he kisses my hair. “Take care of him, honey,” he whispers for only me to hear.
“I will,” I answer.
We say goodbye to his father and the rest of the guys, and after we get our luggage from the bus, we are greeted by an older stewardess who helps us to our seats on the plane.
“We should arrive at our destination in about four hours sir,” she turns to Rone.
“Thank you,” he answers, sitting up in his leather chair before reaching out to take my hand and kissing my knuckles.
“Where are we going?” We are sitting across from each other and I watch the plane take off, the Nashville lights shining bright against the dark sky.
“That’s a surprise.” He grins. “No hints, babe.”
