“You’re thinkin’ about it.” He pokes my ribs, confident that smile is working, and it isfreaking hardto tell him no, but he has no limits. He’ll try to make me play or sing songs I’m not prepared for. He’d detonate my comfort zone like a Fourth of July grand finale.
Loud and scary but alsosparkly.
That’s Sammy—a big sparkly fireworks show. Once he’s lit, there’s no stopping him.
That sounds wrong,but still.
“Sam, you do this all the time, but it wears me out. I need a break this weekend. You’ll be fine,” I say resolutely.
“Just ride with me and help set up? Keep me on pace. Make sure no teenage girls take advantage of me and I make it back safely.” His eyes droop at the corners. He’s so full of it.
“Oh, shut up. You love girls. You can call me if you need me to keep you awake, or you can crash here after instead of driving all the way home.” He’s grasping, but I don’t bend. “So you wanna stay here or what?”
“My cousin, Cade, is at Tech. I’m stayin’ with him.” His smile begins to fade.
I forgot he has a cousin here in Cookeville at Tennessee Tech. He has so many friends, I just assumed he stayed with someone in Nashville when he had gigs.
“You really won’t come with me?” He almost looks genuinely heartbroken. “It’s not that far, and we won’t be real late. You know how I am. I could get to talkin’ to some young girls, and even if I do nothin’ wrong, it could ruin my reputation and maybe my whole future career.”
“Umm, then don’t?” I shoot him a look of annoyance.
“I can’t tell how old they are, and I can’t be mean.” Wow, he’s scraping the bottom of the excuse pile now. “You play Danny’s fake girlfriend all the time. Don’t I get a shot?”
THERE it is.
“Okay, we’re done here.” I shoot up from the couch, ready to shove him out the door. “Good night.”
His belly laugh fades into giggles that make him sound like a ten-year-old until he sees I’m not nearly as amused as he is. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry. Please don’t be mad. I hate doing gigs by myself. I’ll do all the work; I just want you to be there.”
“Stop it. Not the sad face.” The grin doesn’t get me, but Sad Sammy might.Dang it.
He taps something on his phone and pulls me back to the couch.
“I didn’t wanna do this, but desperate times and all …”
Chapter 21
Friends in Low Places
Avideo call connects, and I wonder if Sam’s calling Jude to talk me into this nonsense. He already tried. And Ididhelp. I fed Sam and helped with the songs. I should be off the hook now.
“Samuel Elias! My baby boy! What are you up to tonight?” I hear a mature feminine voice that sounds familiar, but the screen is angled away from me.
“Hey, Aunt Judy! You look so pretty! Did you get your hair done?”
That. Dirty. Rat.
“I sure did! You always notice the little things. Where are you, boy?” she asks affectionately, proving Sam’s charms are effective on females of all ages.
“I’m with mymost bestestfriend, Lucy. I’m trying to convince her to sing with me and play atinylittle bit of guitar at my gig tomorrow, but she doesn’t think she’s good enough. Howcan we convince her to go with me? You know I don’t like to travel alone.”
The BS is strong with this one.
“You’ve got Lucy? Jude’s Lucy?” she says with delight.
“Yes, ma’am. We’re at her mom’s house. She’s right here.” Sam lowers his gaze and smiles smugly at how she refers to me. I roll my eyes as he stretches his arm out, and I scoot closer to say hi.
My heart skips when a familiar faded Braves hat and smirky half smile appear over Aunt Judy’s shoulder. Jude rests my favorite forearms on the back of the sofa where she sits and I can’t stop myself from grinning right back.
