“I understand you think that now,” Andre replies, “but I didn’t know anything about her at the time other than the fact that she was Kelsey’s sister. Which did make it seem less likely that she’d sell any stories to a magazine.” He pauses. “Though, while we’re on the subject, are you sure you don’t need to have her sign an NDA for what you two are doing now? It sure as hell feels NDA-worthy. Our lawyers would murder you if they found out.”
I lean my head back against the couch and stare at the ceiling. “I’m sure, Andre.”
“Excellent. Then tell me about this impromptu trip to Nashville. Annie is already baking and getting a menu put together with Vince.”
“She has a big meeting with a client on Monday, so I assume she’ll be gone most of the day. Can you have Annie plan on driving her wherever she needs to go, and then waiting and bringing her back?”
“Are you sure you want to do that? Annie almost cried when you sent the text saying Izzy was coming with you. She might overwhelm her with a barrage of personal questions.”
“I’m sure. I don’t want her to have to worry about getting a ride or parking. I know she’s stressed about her meeting, even if she hasn’t told me much about it.”
“Ahh,” Andre coos. “You care about her.”
I don’t say anything right away, because what the hell am I supposed to say? That every time Izzy walks into a room, my heart acts like it just heard its favorite song for the first time in years?
Instead, I opt for sarcasm. “Yes, like the good ex-best friend turned fake boyfriend that I am.”
“Oh please,” Andre says. “You know she’s more thanjustyour fake girlfriend.”
She might be more than my fake girlfriend, but I’m not sure what that more is. She’s my friend, but I also have way too many non-friendly feelings for her ever to be just my friend, but she’s also not my girlfriend.
On top of that, this album I’m writing now, the one that I’ve almost entirely composed while in Izzy’s presence, is going to be great—I can feel it. Which means I’ll be going back to my life in Nashville, writing and recording songs and going on tour, just like my label wants. And her life is here. In Wild Bluffs.
“We pretend like we’re okay, and we are for now, but there’s a fifteen-year canyon between us, and sometimes the echo of our past is almost too much to overcome.”
“You know what you do when there’s a canyon?” Andre replies quietly. “You build a damn bridge. Or you learn to jump.”
“Thanks for the sage advice.”
He snorts. “You’re welcome. Now get off the phone and go write a song or something.”
I hang up and toss the phone onto the couch cushion beside me. The silence isn’t empty but filled with Izzy.
She hasn’t completely let go of our past. I know it just in the simple fact that she still insists on calling me Jaxon andme calling her Isabel. But now that I’m spending time with her again, listening to her laugh, going on her rambling word journeys with her, I wonder how I ever managed to walk away from her the first time.
Well, I know the answer: an overwhelming need to prove myself.
Not to her but to my dad. To myself.
That’s how I walked away. That’s what kept me from responding to her calls and text messages.
She would’ve convinced me to come home. I knew that at the time, and I was just too angry that my dad could possibly blame me, a fetus, for causing my mom’s lupus to flare up.
So I do what I’ve always done with my big feelings—I grab my guitar and sing about them.
The words come easily, a new song that feels like it’s been waiting for me to stop running.
I record the melody on my phone, not bothering to send it to Andre.
Because this one? It’s for the girl I left behind, and the woman she turned into while I was gone.
Chapter thirty
Izzy
“So…Nashville,”Isaywhenwe land just before lunchtime on Saturday.
Flying on a private jet is…I want to say lame and overrated, but that would be a lie. It’s wildly comfortable, absurdly easy, and I’m pretty sure it costs more than my rent payment for the entire year. The pilots were waiting at the Wild Bluffs airport when Jaxon and I pulled up at eight this morning, with a car waiting for us once we deplaned.
