Karoline.
She was looking gorgeous in a pink tassel dress and boots. Her hair was curled. I don’t know how I spotted her amidst the crowd, but there she was, like a beacon calling me home.
She left during “Midnight Mistakes,” the very song I wrote about her, and there was nothing I could do about it.
I wanted to stop the song, call her name, and tell her to meet me backstage. Who cares about a concert when the love of your life, the woman who ruined you for all other women, is only a floor-crowd away from you?
But I have a career to uphold and there’s a better way of reconciling with her than stopping a concert.
“Yes. I am. And there’s nothing you can do to stop me. I’ll wait until this tour is over, but when it is, I’m heading to Juniper Grove.”
Rob curses. “Mason, why? What does that little, no-name town have to offer you? We need to stay in Nashville.”
“Karoline. It has Karoline to offer, and that’s a better offer than anything Nashville can give me.” I sigh, rubbing a hand through my tousled hair. It is still sticky with sweat from the concert tonight. Lyrics drift through my mind, a little ditty about chasing the woman you love to the ends of the earth to prove your love to her. “Look. I’m not quitting music. I’m not giving up this career. I just… I need her. And even if I can’t have her because of what I did to her, I need to make it right. Somehow, someway. I have to try. It’s been too long, and I have to man up and face her. I love her, and I want the chance to finally apologize and earn her trust and eventually love. She’s the woman for me, Rob.”
Rob stares at me, mouth agape. “What did you do to that poor girl?”
I breathe a mirthless laugh. “Nothing good. But I’m determined to make it right, and to do that, I need to be in Juniper Grove for a while.”
“Okay, Mason. Whatever you say. As long as you don’t up and leave me.”
I chuckle. “My days of up and leaving people are over. Don’t worry. Now, let’s help with getting this stuff taken down. I’m ready for bed.”
Chapter Twenty-Three
Karoline - Present
“Thank you for comingout tonight to our Valentine’s Day West Coast Swing Celebration,” the young, sandy-blond male serving as tonight’s announcer says, spreading his arms out like an eagle’s wings. Like everyone else, he’s dressed in casual but trendy clothes, perfect for dancing but not the typical outdated swing outfits.
Mason squeezes my hand, and I stare lovingly at my boyfriend. We’ve been dating for about a month, and his vacation home was finished a couple of weeks ago. It surprised me that he stuck around; he is scheduled to release another album in March. He has been driving back and forth from here to Nashville every week despite my protest that he should simply stay in Nashville until the launch of his album since I worked a lot and had school anyways. He said that was not an option, and well, I didn’t complain.
The announcer continues. “We’ve been blessed to teach the Juniper Grove area and surrounding cities the beauty of swing dancing for the past twenty-five years. Tonight’s community event is hosted by me, Stone Harper, director of The Grove Community Center. While we provide a place for teens to hang out and interact face-to-face in a safe environment on the daily, we also host community events once a month. The West Coast Swing Company was gracious in allowing us to use their facility for tonight’s Valentine’s Day improv event. I also want to thank my assistant and stand-in event coordinator, Lucy Spence, for making this happen for us tonight.” He gestures to Lucy who is smiling and waving in her black tights, pink, cropped tank top dotted with little white hearts, and black canvas ballroom shoes. Her Ariana Grande-style high strawberry blonde ponytail swings as she attempts to meet every gaze in the room. The woman is a natural when it comes to being in the spotlight.
“Lucy will tell you all the rules of conduct for the night, then we’ll call out the numbers for the first random coupling for the first improv of the night.” He meets our gazes and grins. “Actually, we should let our special guest, country artist Mason Kane, go first. What do y’all say?”
The large room erupts in shouts and applause, the sound waves bouncing off the hallowed walls and sleek hardwood floor. Red, pink, black, and white hues swirl around the room likea wildfire as participants swing a variety of square pillows in circles over their heads. Hadley, Braxton, Lorelei, Chanel, Malik, and I join in on the stimulating chaos of the crowd while Mason stands and waves to everyone.
Lucy grabs the mic from Stone as the crowd dies down. “All right, y’all. Let’s get this night started. A few rules to remember…”
As Lucy talks, something akin to a thrilling version of anxiety floods my system. It’s been three years since I last danced West Coast Swing… and it was with the man standing beside me on the side of the dance floor. It was the night after I graduated; Mason surprised me with a graduation party at the local dance company we frequented. It was a pleasurable night of line dancing, swing dancing, and even the occasional country-fied salsa… the best way to celebrate, in my opinion. Especially because Mason danced with me most of the night, only allowing others to step in a handful of times.
“Come on up, Mason!” the announcer shouts to a roar of claps by all and hopeful shouts given by a group of young females on the other side of the room. I resist the urge to scowl in their direction.
How can they be so “in your face” when his girlfriend is in the room?
And yes, all of the nation knows I am Mason Kane’s girlfriend. When that commercial aired a week ago, we also came clean about our relationship. While the majority of comments on our social media—I’ve gained thousands upon thousands of followers simply because I’m his girl—have been kind and supportive, there are those who are not happy that their celebrity man-crush is taken.
Mason stands by the announcer—Stone, if I recall correctly—and waves with a big grin to the crowd still cheering him on.
“Have you ever danced West Coast Swing?” Stone asks.
Mason locks eyes with me, and I want to jump up and kiss him senseless in front of everyone. We shared our firstrealkiss in front of people; he and I quickly discovered that we arethatPDA couple.
“Yes. In fact, I took lessons throughout high school with my lover.”
All eyes turn to me, and I sheepishly wave.Lover? Where did that come from…Yes, we’ve said our I love yous, because well, we’ve meant those words longer than the two of us have known, but still. Wouldn’t the title of girlfriend be sufficient?
Emotional men… what will we ever do with them?
