I stand, brushing dirt from my palms as the athletic director takes over.
Lucy steps closer, voice quiet but fierce. “You’re incredible.”
“I’m well trained.”
“No,” she says, shaking her head. “That’s not just training. That’s compassion. That’s you to your core, running to help those who need it most before things get even worse.”
Behind us, Sandro groans as someone helps him to a chair, but he still manages to lift his good hand and point at me.
“You,” he says, voice rough but sure, “we need a guy like you on this tour.”
The room freezes.
My pulse jumps as all eyes turn to me.
Sandro waves his good hand around. “Find my lawyer. I want this man employed and on site with mefrom today onward. Whatever it takes, man,” he says, his eyes on mine. “Thank you.”
The room erupts into movement, energy, conversation about what just happened and about what happens next.
Amidst the chaos, Lucy blinks up at me. “Did Sandro René just offer you a job?”
I flare my hands, frowning. “I’m not sure.”
“If he did, you wouldn’t have to go home.” She huffs a laugh. “We could live my dream… together.”
I weigh the options. It’d be easy to give up the job in Admin. I know Mom would pop in to check on my house from time to time, but there’s not much to take care of there. My life was small before Lucy. And while I have no clue what to expect from a life on tour other than a total disruption of my routine and the careful predictability I’ve built into my days, something—some quiet voice inside me—says that’s exactly what I need.
I throw an arm around Lucy’s shoulder. “Funny thing about that,” I say, breathing in the scent of her hair. “Together is exactly where I want to be.”
CHAPTER FIFTY-TWO
Lucy
Three months later
By the time Nash wrestles the room-service tray onto the low table at the foot of the hotel bed, my stomach is growling loud enough to compete with the birds outside our balcony. Perth feels like a dream—bright sun, crisp breeze, a city that sparkles with goodness. Thankfully, we had a three-day break between shows here, so we’ve been able to explore. This morning, we’re having family “dinner” with the Kincaids via video call, something we’ve tried to make happen every time we’re in one place long enough.
“Okay,” Nash mutters as he props up the tablet on apillow, “I see now why Grayson and Gideon don’t always manage to call in. Having dinner at eight in the morning while coordinating multiple time zones is weird.”
“Yeah, but it’s good too,” I say, leaning in to kiss the spot beside his mouth. “Getting to see everyone. Even if it is breakfast for us, dinner for your mom and Bennett, lunch for Grayson, and… whatever meal Gideon pretends to eat while sitting on some random detail he can’t talk about.”
“I guess we’ll call itweirdly good,” Nash responds with a smile. “Kind of like everything that’s happened since I met you.”
The screen flickers. Then?—
“Hellooooo, Perth!” Nora Kincaid’s voice bursts through, warm and musical. Behind her, her dining room is chaos. Beautiful, joyful chaos. Not only is Bennett there, but the Holidays are as well—Simon, Violet, and all four of their adult children. The table is laden with dinner made by Nora and dessert from Simon and Violet. They’re all talking and laughing while Beau’s tail thumps loudly from somewhere under the table.
My heart aches to see all these people I’ve come to love. Maybe, one day, we’ll try having a cyber meal with Mom and Dad. We’ve been talking more frequently and it’s been good all around.
Another box pops onto the screen—Grayson, hair a chaotic mess, hoodie half-zipped, holding a burrito the size of his forearm. “Sup, losers. It’s burrito o’clock.”
A third window opens. Gideon, in his usual grayscaleT-shirt, sitting in a rental car with pine trees behind him. He lifts a thermos and nods. “Evening.”
“Is that even food?” Nash asks.
“It’s coffee,” Gideon answers.
“Of course it is,” Grayson mutters and everyone laughs.
