She dropped her feet to the ground on either side of the chair and inched toward him as close as she could without tipping the chair forward.
“All three Murphy men carry both their mother and father’s surnames. Eli’s full name is Elias, your mom’s maiden name, though he’s never gone by it. And you and Boone were both given the same as your middle names. I know we were only together for a few months, but I listen when people talk.”
He lifted the guitar over his head and laid it on the table behind him.
“Well, Willow Mae Morgan (legal name Hammond), I listen too.”
“It’s actually Willow Morgan Hammond now. Legally,” she admitted. “But still Morgan professionally.” She swallowed, and her eyes took on a sheen that wasn’t there before. “I love my adoptive parents,” she continued, her voice rougher than it had been before. “And I’m grateful for all they’ve done for me. But just like your parents made sure your mom’s name lives on with the next generation, I wanted to do the same for both of mine.” She cleared her throat and stood, brushing out the creases in her shirt. “That’s enough work for tonight, right? I’m hungry. We should eat. Order in? Or I could run out and pick something up? Maybe there’s a frozen pizza. I’ll go check.”
She spun toward the door as fast as the string of words erupted from her lips. But before she made itto the door, Ash was on his feet, his arms wrapped around her shoulders as he pulled her back to his chest.
“What are you doing?” she asked, a tremor in her voice.
He rested his chin on the top of her head and exhaled a long breath. “Hugging someone I care about when she might be sad remembering her mom.”
Willow froze for a moment before finally letting her shoulders fall as she relaxed against him, clasping her hands over his.
“Thank you,” she whispered. “I needed that.” After another moment of silence, she continued. “You know, I never thought about the kind of friend you might be, but you’re really good at it.”
He laughed softly. “Friend, huh?”
She squeezed his hands. “For now,” she assured him.
The funny thing was, no one had ever told him that before. Outside of Meadow Valley, everyone who surrounded him was either making money because of him or wanted to make money because of him.
Washe a good friend? Did that mean Willow was finally starting to trust him? This somehow felt bigger than he’d expected, something that—if he messed it up—would be irrevocable this time.
That night Ash lay awake on the couch, thinkingabout the lyrics she’d written for the chorus of their song.
Notes on the mirror still making me cry,
Collecting ‘I’m sorrys’ like stars in the sky.
Should have known from the start we’d still end in goodbye.
He’d make sureI’m sorrynever found room on that mirror by filling it with everything but.
He swung his legs off the couch and padded to the kitchen to grab the notepad, only to remember he’d left it in the bathroom, and based on its absence from the kitchen drawer, Willow hadn’t put it away either.
He headed toward her bedroom door ready to knock, only to find it slightly ajar.
“Wills?” he whispered, but he was answered with a soft, adorable snore followed by a dreamy hum.
She was out like a light and he was nearly naked, in nothing but his boxers, about to enter the bedroom of a woman who—the last time he’d done so unbeknownst to her—knocked him out cold.
He squared his shoulders and pushed the door open enough to slip through, then padded to the bathroom where the only thing illuminating the space was a slip of moonlight mostly obscured by the small glass-block window on the shower wall.
It was enough for him to find the notes and thepen still resting on top of the pad. He quickly scribbled the song title that popped into his head, one he remembered from a movie he made his brothers watch with him over and over again when he was a kid. It was one of the first songs he ever learned to play on the guitar even though it was meant for the piano.
Ash hesitated for a moment, wondering whether or not Willow would take it the wrong way, but the second he heard a soft sigh as she stirred in bed again, he knew he had to either make a move and get out of there or end up possibly concussed again. So he quickly scribbled, “You’ve Got a Friend in Me,” stuck it on the mirror and hightailed it out of the room and back to the couch.
He found himself smiling as he finally drifted off to sleep.
Things were different this time.
Hewas different. Better. Willow could already see it, and he would prove to both of them that she was right.
Chapter 20
