“I told them two beds,” I said when she was pushing in the door of the room a minute later.
She didn’t say a word, only threw her black backpack on the bed, flopping down onto it herself before uncapping the whiskey and taking another swig.
“That’s bad ya, know. Some old-timer gave it to me after a show once. Called it white lightnin’.” I tossed the pizza on the counter and kicked off my boots by the front door. “Can’t promise you’re safe drinkin’ it.”
She only shrugged, pushing the whiskey bottle on the faux-wood tabletop, eyes dragging across the room before landing on mine.
That look didn’t promise anything good.
“Y’know, you think you’re so innocent in this, just walking away like you did. Turnin’ into a big star in Nashville, dating those pop star twits.” She pushed a hand through the air as if to wave away the irritating flies. “I was all alone.”
She hiccupped, frustrated tears hovering at her eyelashes.
I wanted nothing more than to lick away her pain, take it all from her until the only thing left standing was her and me and that special thing we had together.
“We’ve gotta be at the gig in two hours. Think you’re gonna be ready, champ? Or you sittin’ this one out?”
Her eyes shot open but refused to focus. “I’m totally fine. Besides, m’not going to your show anyway. I’m just gonna take a shower then find the nearest bus station and head back to the Ridge.” She stood from the bed, pulling her shirt over her head and stumbling slowly to the bathroom.
“That’s the closet, actually.” I spoke up when she opened the wrong door.
I guided her into the bathroom before turning on the hot-water tap.
“I’ll be back in to check on you.” I placed a kiss on the furrow of her forehead.
“Don’t need your saving, Gentry.”
“I know you don’t, Branson. Never did,” I offered, retreating back out the door and closing it softly in my wake.
I slumped down on the office chair, pushing the cooling box of pizza aside and looking longingly across the room at that golden liquid belonging to me.
I hadn’t expected her to be the one to hit the bottle, but some truths were just too destructive to bear without some liquid courage, I supposed.
And hell if I was anyone to judge.
A few new lines to the song I’d been working on materialized in my mind, and I scratched out some words on a stray pad of paper and hotel-logoed pen.I’ve got this monkey on my back…these habits I can’t break… You left me here standing in the early dawn light, and all I got is more pain…
I heard the steady hum of the shower through the thin wooden door as I fell further into the song, matching some of the words to notes I could imagine playing under my fingers. In a few more weeks, this could be ready to sing onstage. I’d written hundreds of songs in just the same way in the years I’d been on the road.
Seems Augusta Belle disappearin’ had worked wonders for my creative side.
I scratched out a couple more notes about the arrangement of the music, and before long, the water in the shower was kicking off and the door squeaking open.
“Thanks,” she hummed, honey silk ringlets falling around her ivory shoulders, a fluffy white towel wrapped around her body.
She looked so fragile, like a rare bird that needed extra-gentle handling.
“I’m not sure what got into me.” She avoided my eyes and went to the bed, shuffling through the backpack before pausing, clean change of clothes in her hands.
She chomped down on her lip, taking a few tentative steps closer to me. “I know I just showed up in your life like a ghost out of thin air…”
“Took the thoughts out of my head,” I affirmed.
“And I know you don’t have to put up with me.” She hardly suppressed an eye roll, the admission painful for her still-stubborn self. “But I appreciate it.” She paused as if considering whether or not to say more. She seemed to decide against it before adding, “I would love to see your show tonight.”
And then she disappeared back into the bathroom, a cloud of spiced peaches and smoky whiskey leaving a dreamy, numbing warmth in her wake.
FOURTEEN
