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I chewed and swallowed my mouthful of food and took a sip of water. “I’m as surprised as you are.”
Lennie shook his head. “I’m not totally shocked after watching you guys for months. But I am concerned. I know it’s not my place, but I consider him a friend. And I don’t want to see him get hurt.”
I heard the warning in Lennie’s voice and saw it in his blue eyes. But it didn’t change anything.
“I can’t guarantee that. All I can say is that I’ve never felt like this about anyone.”
Lennie looked down, stabbing his pasta with his fork. “I don’t know if that’s a good enough answer.”
I should’ve been annoyed. Who was he to judge my new relationship with Dawson?
But I knew Lennie was only saying what any friend would. I’d do the same if the situation were reversed.
And frankly, he wasn’t wrong.
On paper, I was a risky bet for any man.
But for Dawson Everly?
I wasn’t sure I could beat those odds.
CHAPTER 32
DAWSON
FRIDAY—THE RECORDING STUDIO
“Now remember, don’t?—"
“Dad, Iknow.” Jaxon sighed. “I’m not a baby anymore. I won’t run through the studio or break their instruments.”
I glanced at my son as he sat beside me. I’d managed to snag the last remaining parking spot at Wayward Lane’s recording studio in downtown Nashville.
“You gotta chill out,” Jaxon continued, unbuckling his seat belt.
“Chill out?” I repeated.
If this was Jaxon at eight going on nine, the teenage years were going to be brutal.
“Yeah. You’re so nervous, like when you drink too much coffee. You changed clothes three times, and we’re already ten minutes late. And it’s weird because you already know the band, not me, so why are you anxious?”
I listened to my son’s reasoning and stifled a laugh.
I wasn’t on shift today, and the studio tour was purely a personal visit.
A very personal visit.
And yeah, it was true. I was nervous about seeing Iain. Was he still all in, or had he changed his mind about us? I was pretty sure that, given the massive number of texts and late-night calls between us, Iain was feeling the same as me. I missed him something crazy, and I didn’t expect to feel so on edge—like if I didn’t touch him soon, I was going to go out of my mind.
So, yeah, I spent extra time getting ready, trying to look my best in new jeans, a dark grey button-down, and a beard clip. Not to mention I had my fauxhawk trimmed.
I wasn’t the only nervous one, but my son was better at hiding it.
Jaxon had also carefully selected his outfit—black jeans, a matching T-shirt, and his down jacket. Oh, and his new neon orange running shoes.
My kid had more street style than me; that I knew for sure.
I reached my hand out to rub his bristly red hair and smiled.
