Total pages in book: 116
Estimated words: 111253 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 556(@200wpm)___ 445(@250wpm)___ 371(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 111253 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 556(@200wpm)___ 445(@250wpm)___ 371(@300wpm)
“But I can’t always run.”
“No, you can’t,” Vera agreed. “So, you work on it. The fact that you recognize it is half the battle. But there’s also nothing wrong with asking for space to think, just maybe let the people you love know you’re not falling off the face of the earth beforehand.”
“What if he doesn’t want someone like that?”
“He’ll have to learn if he wants to keep you,” Rae said.
“And he’d be a complete dumbass to not want you.”
“Especially when you show up at the Grammys looking like fucking fire,” Rae exclaimed, almost bouncing in her seat.
“I don’t know. I—”
Rae’s finger pressed to my lips, halting me mid-excuse. “Mama Rae’s gonna take care of you. Now hush and say thank you.”
I managed a smile under her finger and muttered, “I love you.”
“Close enough,” she conceded.
Vera wrapped around my back, and Rae hugged my front. I’d needed the mountains to process—just like they said, but if I had to choose one over the other—I would always choose this.
All I had to do was win Parker back and prove to him that I may need a second to process, but I would always choose him, too.
Thirty-One
Parker
“Parker, were you in love with your stepsister? Will we be singing any songs about incestual love on the new album?”
“Fuck off, Oren,” I grumbled.
“Hey, man, I’m just prepping you for the red carpet tonight.”
“He’s not wrong,” Aspen confirmed, walking closer with that damn makeup pad thing again. “Now that they’ve uncovered everything about your past with her, it’s a free for all.”
“If you try and put makeup on me one more time, I’m going to break it.”
She gasped and glared, holding the rectangle to her chest like it was her baby. “I’m just trying to help you look more human.”
Shaking my head, I turned back to the full-length mirror in our suite. I adjusted the sleeves of my suit jacket and cringed at the man staring back. Between the tour, fielding questions at every turn, and missing Nova, I looked as tired as I felt. I knew I looked like shit, but I refused to cover any of it no matter how much Aspen tried.
I hoped Nova saw me on TV tonight and realized what a fucking mess I was without her. I wanted her to see the dark circles and dull eyes. It was hard to sleep when all I saw on the inside of my lids were her tears and mouthing I’m sorry right before she ran.
I was tired of watching her run from me.
I wasn’t even mad this time.
Not like when we were kids, and I raged for months on end.
Not like on New Year’s Eve when irritation hit harder than anger.
No, this time? I ached. Without any other emotion to take up space, all that throbbed and weighed me down was the intense need for her. It both flooded me to bursting and left me with a hollow pit only she could fill.
When she left, I called and called with no answer—not that I expected one. But when it started going straight to voicemail, I knew exactly where she had run to. We’d gotten to know each other better than ever before, and I didn’t need to wonder where she was this time because she’d gone where no one could reach her—the mountains.
I considered calling Raelynn for all of a second, but honestly, I was slightly terrified.
I considered just showing up to find her, but with the Grammys on top of everything else, I had nothing to show but open arms and me begging on my knees for her to come back. Not that I even knew how long she’d stay before running again, even if she did come back. I’d thought she’d stay this time.
She said she could do this with me, but at the first bump—a very big bump—she bailed. Not that I blamed her. Hell, each time I walked outside, someone cornered me, asking about her kidnapping. It wasn’t even my story, and I was exhausted by it. No wonder she never wanted to talk about it. Add in the tidbits and revelations about our pasts and how we met, and the reporters fell on it like a bunch of savages who hadn’t eaten in a week.
The thought of doing it choreographed by Aspen filled me with dread.
It left me, for the first time ever, questioning if this career was really worth it.
“You’re messing up my suit, bro,” Oren shouted.
“It’s a fucking T-shirt,” Brogan shot back.
“That has a suit on it,” Oren explained slowly.
“Can you at least wear the jacket?” Aspen almost begged.
“Say please, baby,” Oren cooed.
“Fuck you and wear the jacket,” she deadpanned.
“Ooo,” Oren shuddered. “I love when you swear at me. Makes me hard.”
“Gross.”
“And I’ll wear it, but only because I look damn good in this red,” he claimed, tugging on the dark red jacket.