Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 80074 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 400(@200wpm)___ 320(@250wpm)___ 267(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 80074 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 400(@200wpm)___ 320(@250wpm)___ 267(@300wpm)
Chapter 23
<>Harley<>
It felt as if I aimlessly drove around for hours, until I was parkin’ my car in front of a dive bar in Nashville. I breathed out a heavy sigh of relief, fully conscious of where I was. Recognizing the half-lit sign hangin’ off the buildin’.
Despite the way I was feelin’ inside, I smiled before walkin’ up to the front entrance. Showin’ my ID to the bouncer who gave me a quick nod before steppin’ aside.
The soft strummin’ of a guitar immediately assaulted my senses as soon as I stepped into the bar, but that wasn’t what made the hair on my arms stand at attention. I closed my eyes needin’ to check my emotions and thoughts that attacked the forefront of my mind at rapid speed.
The strummin’ of the guitar was effortless and defined. I would recognize it anywhere. No one could play like he could.
No one.
His voice was smooth like silk but raw enough to give you chills. His God-given gift would be a permanent reminder of my childhood, our tight ass bond that nothin’ or no one could ever break.
The lyrics and beat took me back to another time, another place, when we were kids. Livin’ our best lives.
I remembered it all, and I hadn’t even seen him yet. I didn’t have to.
He was engrained in my mind.
In my heart.
In my soul.
He sang the chorus over again. The emotions bleedin’ off the strings of his guitar and vocals. Makin’ the crowd scream and cheer for his talent. His energy was fuckin’ contagious, it always had been. Always would be.
He was born to be on stage.
I felt it all around me, even though I still hadn’t opened my eyes to take him in. His voice dropped to a soft tone, as did his guitar. The song ended, and the crowd went wild and ravenous for him.
“Let’s give a warm welcome to my very best friend, who just surprised the shit outta me by showin’ up!”
They hollered higher and louder.
“Harley Jameson, get your ass over here and give me a hug.”
I laughed, I couldn’t help it.
Cash McGraw was my very best friend too, and I needed him now more than ever before.
The crowd shouted again, whistlin’ and clappin’. I opened my eyes, immediately lockin’ them with his. I hadn’t seen him in months, but it was like I’d just seen him yesterday.
He looked the same, his dirty blond, wavy, long hair that was a little past his shoulders now. His familiar deep-set tantalizin’ hazel eyes. With his small button nose, thin lips, and slim jawline. The dimple of his chin was always my favorite thing about him.
Makin’ my way up the stage, he pulled me into a tight embrace. Throwin’ my arms around his neck felt so damn good.
“Holy shit, I’ve missed you,” I breathed out into his neck, stirrin’ up emotions of our childhood.
We may not have been blood-related, however Cash would always be my third brother.
“You feel good in my arms, darlin’. Missed the fuck outta you too.”
Hearin’ him say those words to me with so much love and familiarity triggered me to burst into tears.
“Hey...” He grabbed my face in between his hands, wipin’ my tears away with his callused thumbs. “What’s goin’ on? Is it your parents? Did somethin’ happen?”
“No, nothin’ like that.”
He grabbed my hand, leadin’ me off the stage. “Come on.”
He guided me toward the back of the club, down a long narrow hallway, and up a set of stairs. Pullin’ a key from his back pocket, he unlocked what looked like a small, rundown studio apartment.
“Home sweet home,” he announced, lettin’ go of my hand. Throwin’ the keys into a bowl on the counter by the door, he strode over to his fridge. Leavin’ me by the door to inspect his place.
“Wow,” I breathed out, surprised by what I was seein’.
There was a mattress in the corner of the room, rumpled sheets, and pillows spread on top of it. A couch that appeared like it’d seen better days was in the center of the small space. Covered in stains with a spring poppin’ outside the cushion.
In front of the piece of shit was a worn-down coffee table, with duct tape around one of the legs holdin’ it in place.
As I took in my surroundings, I noticed the walls had patched up holes. Where someone did a half-ass job leavin’ the drywall unfinished. The old black and white dial television sittin’ on the floor caught my attention next. Along with his clothes that were scattered throughout the room, dryin’ over the heat vents.
Lookin’ into his vibrant hazel eyes, I asked, “Cash, do your parents know you’re livin’ like this?”
He handed me a beer. “Fuck them.”
I winced at his blunt response, rememberin’ what had happened between them.
“What about your sister, Giselle? She know?”
He nodded. “She mails me money all the time. I never cashed her checks, so she started sendin’ me cash. I donate it to the homeless shelter up the road. They need it more than I do.”