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“Yeah, you too,” she replies, tucking a loose piece of hair behind one ear. “Been a little while. Not since…”
My smile freezes, and there’s an awkward beat of silence before I recover.
Morgan’s cheeks turn red, her eyes quickly darting to Hudson. “I didn’t mean to—”
“It has been a while,” I say. “Good to be home.”
Morgan nods quickly. “Can I get you anything to drink?”
“I’ll take a soda. Thanks.”
Another nod, and then she disappears into the house. The screen door shuts with a soft hiss, suggesting I should be taking construction tips from Hudson. He built a large portion of this house himself.
“You look like shit,” Tommy comments, sinking down into one of the other chairs once I take a seat at the table.
I huff out a laugh, running a hand through my damp hair.Thisis home as much as the creaky stairs and open fields of the ranch. Getting shit from my friends instead of advice from people on my payroll.
“Long day. I’m replacing the roof,” I tell him, shooting Morgan a grateful smile when she reappears and passes me a cold cola before taking a seat.
I crack the can open and take a long pull, not missing thelookHudson and Tommy exchange.
I know they’re worried about me. Frankly, they’d be terrible friends if they weren’t at least a little concerned.
But I also know I’m doing what I need to. Maybe it’s a twisted form of penance. Maybe I am punishing myself for the years when I could have done more and chose not to.
Whatever it is, it’s the only way I know how to handle things. I used music to escape this town, so perhaps it’s only fitting I’m returning here to end that chapter.
“Maybe call in a professional, man?” Tommy says. “Cal Hastings did—”
“I’m handling the damn roof, okay?”
Over two decades of friendship, and Tommy knows when to not push me. He leans back, holding up both hands in a gesture of acquiescence. “Okay.”
I exhale, hating how my long fuse has burned down to nothing lately.
My muscles ache from ripping shingles all day, but there’s a relentless buzz just beneath my skin. An irritated hum that keeps me testy and irritable when I should be relaxed and exhausted. My most recent tour ended three weeks ago and lasted almost a year. Most of that time was scheduled down to the minute. Photo shoots, interviews, sound checks, performances. It was like a tornado around me that’s suddenly dissipated, leaving me standing alone. I’m in the silence after a storm, relieved yet also accustomed to chaos.
“I’m sorry. I—”
Tommy shakes his head. “Don’t apologize, Spencer. I’ll swing by this weekend. See what I can help you fuck up.”
I roll my eyes, but the smile appears easily.
It’s not forced, the way so many have felt lately.
“How are Mabel and John?” Hudson asks, taking the chair beside Morgan.
Morgan beams over at him, and it distracts me for a minute.
It’s soobvious, so different from how I’m used to seeing affection displayed. My aunt and uncle have a stable relationship, but I’ve never so much as seen them hold hands. They’re reserved people who shy away from muss or fuss.
And my love life as of late has been a string of short, meaningless encounters. That’s probably true of my love life, period. Seeing one of my best friends in a mature, committed relationship feels as foreign as my fame must seem to him.
“Uh, they’re good,” I answer. “Heading north soon.”
“Oh, right. They’re visiting Cecilia and her family?”
“Right.”
