“Dang right, you’re not,” Griffin growled.
I shook my head. “Whoo buddy. This is gonna be fun.”
Cash rubbed his hands together. “Best. Race. Ever. And we haven’t even started yet.”
I heard his phone buzz in his pocket. He pulled it out. I only got a two-second glimpse but it was enough to make my blood run cold.
Millie
Fine, Cash. Have it your way. But when it hits the fan, don’t say I didn’t warn you.
eleven
Cash
Over the next week, we settled into a routine. After a restless night’s sleep, I’d pace in the kitchen until Charlie got up. We’d eat breakfast together—a double helping for her, Mom’s orders—go muck out the barn, and then she’d come spend the day with me at Dad’s recording studio.
After a couple of sessions, Dad hired her to be the “Album Vibes Manager”—totally not a real job. Basically she gave us her opinion from a listener’s perspective. It was a win-win. She needed the money, and though she didn’t know it, I sang better, played better, and my energy was through the roof when I was performing for her.
When we’d finished for the day, we’d head home, eat dinner, and go train for the race. If we had any energy left, we’d end the evening chilling on the deck playing our guitars together, watching TikTok reels, or just counting the stars. The only thing that would’ve made it more perfect would’ve been her last name not being Greene anymore. But, like my dad reminded me daily, it was just a matter of time. I’d waited this long, what was another nine months?
Everything was going great, like really great—and I was beginning to think Millie’s threats had all been empty.
I thought wrong.
The next Saturday morning, I stood on the edge of the living room, eyes narrowed on the flat screen, rubbing my temples. We weren’t night owls around here. More like early birds. Which is why we hadn’t found out about Millie’s interview on the Breaking Curfew with Nate Midnight Show until Ronny Don woke Dad fifteen minutes ago.
Dad sat on the couch, leaning forward, knee bouncing. Mom snuggled against his side, sipping her morning coffee, tickling his back to calm him. But she was the opposite of calm. Dad couldn’t see, but she looked like she wanted to jump through the screen and rip Millie’s hair extensions out.
Mom took a slow, careful sip and said in a soothing but firm tone. “Ford, if you don’t call Nate Midnight and give him a piece of your mind, I will.”
Dad blew his breath out in an O. “Maybe it’s not as bad as Ronny thinks. Let’s watch the interview first and then we can decide what to do.”
“So, Millie,” Nate Midnight started. “Tell us a little about your relationship with Cash Dupree. How you met, how long you dated…”
Millie tossed her hair over her shoulder. “We met two months ago?—”
“Wait.” Nate leaned forward onto his desk. “You only met two months ago and you expected a proposal at his concert?”
She crossed her legs. “It was a whirlwind romance, you know? It happens all the time. His grandparents were engaged within a week of meeting.”
“Different era, sweetheart,” Dad said.
“The audacity,” Mom said. “The girl just lies whenever it suits her fancy. I wonder if her parents know what kind of daughter they raised.”
“Mom, who do you think she learned it from?” I chuckled, though there was no joy in it.
“He told me he was going to propose,” Millie said. “We’d talked about it for weeks.” Lies. “I was so sure Cash was my forever. I mean, he said he wanted to spend his life with me.” Nope. “But then, well…” She dropped her gaze like it pained her to relive the moment. “You all saw what happened. He left me humiliated after I put my whole heart into our relationship.”
“Is she a theater major?” Dad asked.
“Hospitality and Tour Management,” I said. “Because it’s the easiest major on campus.”
Mom snorted in disgust.
“What’s going on?” Addie walked into the room still in her pajamas, holding the stuffed bunny she slept with every night, her curls wild on her head.
“Come here.” Dad reached for her. “I need my Addie snuggles.” He pulled her into his lap and blew a raspberry on her cheek.
