And I hate it.
I hate that this is how we’re reconnecting—under these circumstances, tied to a secret that I need her help with.
I hate that seeing her is dredging up emotions I thought I’d buried.
But most of all, I hate that despite everything, I can’t stop looking at her and wishing I’d have tried harder to keep her in my life.
I take a deep breath. “A year ago, I went on tour as an opener for Landon Brooks along with two other up-and-coming country music artists, Cassidy Young and Harper Lane. It was my first time on tour, and I'll admit, I didn't handle the fame and attention as well as I should have.”
She nods, and I can tell that none of those names mean anything to her. Dexter had warned me that this is a sports firm, and not dedicated to artists but perhaps that’s a good thing.
“We were on the road for four relentless months, hittingdifferent cities every night. The long days and nights blurred together, and all the opening acts shared a tour bus. Somewhere along the way, Harper and I started hooking up.”
“Okay…” she responds, typing notes into her tablet without looking up. I wish she'd look into my eyes again. I wish I could plead with her how differently I'd wanted things to go when they ended between us nine years ago. I wonder what we'd be doing right now if we hadn’t stopped talking after we left for college. Maybe I wouldn’t be in this situation. Maybe her past wouldn’t be filled with her own share of heartbreak and pain.
“It was casual, or so I thought. When the tour ended, we went our separate ways… until four months ago, when she showed up at my home in Nashville, pregnant. She surprised my new girlfriend who was staying there with her pregnancy test.”
“Ah… I take it the new girlfriend isn’t around anymore?” Mae asks, still not making eye contact with me as she enters something into the tablet.
I nod. “Believe me, Mae, I had no idea. I was always careful to use protection, but I know condoms are not 100% effective. I asked her to take a paternity test, I know that she wasn’t exclusively with me, but she refused, saying she didn't want to do that while she was pregnant. If the baby is mine, I want to be there for them. Not just that, I’d be devastated if this got back to my mom and dad before I can tell them myself. You know how Nash and Jovie can be...I don't want to disappoint them by having them find out the same time that the rest of the world does...” my voice trails off and my eyes shift to the window behind her.
It’s a beautiful day in Nashville. The sun’s shining and the trees outside of Mae’s window are blowing gently in the breeze. I’d rather be out there than inside here, talking about my first public crisis with my first love but I know I need to push forward. Get everything out in the open so that Mae and her team can help me. It’s the right thing to do and if I am the father, I’ll do right by the kid.
“She’s starting to show and planning to announce her pregnancy on social media this month. People will speculate—there were already rumors during the tour about us hooking up, and we weren’t exactly discreet. I just want to get ahead of the speculation. If the child’s mine, I don’t want to blindside the people in my life with this announcement.” I let out a breath of relief, finally unloading the weight that’s been tearing me up inside since that day Harper showed at my door.
“Please, Mae, believe me—this isn’t about salvaging my reputation. I just want to protect the child from the circus if they turn out to be mine. I don’t want Harper exposing our child to our world, or twisting what we had into some media spectacle. I’m hoping she won’t, but I can’t take that chance. I just… I need to know. If I’m the father, I want to be there for them both.”
Her gaze softens, and I swear the slightest hint of a smile tugs at her lips. It’s not the big, radiant smile I used to know, but it’s there—small, thoughtful, understanding. Her lip’s part, revealing those perfectly straight, white teeth, and I’m reminded—again—how Mae has always been the most stunning girl I’ve ever had the pleasure of knowing. She was a diamond where no one expected to find one in our small town.
But now? Now she’s not just beautiful. She’s captivating and I can’t imagine ever looking anywhere else again.
She studies me for another second before speaking. “I believe you, Cody. I believe you’re thinking of the child.”
Relief rushes out of me in one long exhale. “Thank you.”
Because her approval—her belief in me—means a whole hell of a lot.
“So, you see,” I continue, clearing my throat to steady myself, “when I ran into Dexter in Vegas, and he mentioned what your firm did for him with his son, I knew I had to reach out.”
She nods, her expression settling into one of pure professionalism now, though her blue eyes still hold a trace ofwarmth. “So, who else knows about the pregnancy?”
“Just Harper’s manager. That’s it.”
“I’ll need contact information for Harper and her manager. We can request a court-appointed paternity test that, if she refuses to respond to it, she’ll be held in contempt, but it cannot be forced until the baby is born. We may be able to convince her to undergo it before announcing her pregnancy if we take the right approach, but I’ll need to talk with her and her manager directly to convince them. Additionally, we may need to get you a lawyer so that if she refuses to take the test, we can try a different angle explaining this might tarnish your reputation even if she doesn't say who the father is prior to announcing.”
I nod my head, trying to process this. “I’ll get you her manager's contact information right away. My manager has a lawyer he uses for his clients. We can use them.”
She finishes typing, then forces a reassuring smile. “It’s going to be okay, Cody. I know it doesn’t feel like it right now, but we’ll get ahead of this. Whether you’re the father or not, we’ll work with Harper’s team to manage both of your reputations. This is fixable. You’re going to be alright—trust me, we’ve handled worse.”
And for the first time, I actually do. Because it’s Mae. She knew the old me, the real me, and if she says we can handle this, maybe we can.
She rises from her chair and strides to the door, pulling it open in a silent cue for me to go.
"I'll get someone from my team assigned to securing the paternity test and we'll touch base with you tomorrow." She extends her hand for a shake, but instead, I step forward and wrap my arms around her in a hug because even if she doesn’t need this, I sure as hell do. Her body is soft, and warm, molding to me perfectly. She smells like sweet lilacs and summertime, her head hardly coming up to my shoulders even in her sky-highheels. I rest my chin on the top of her head and hold her for a second, enjoying the way her touch takes me back.
Having her back in my arms feels like coming home—the familiarity of rural roads, country signs, and endless miles of ranches filled with a harvest. Girls in cowboy boots with southern drawls and people who look out for each other. She’d been stiff at first, but after a few seconds, her body finally relaxes into mine, and I’m sure I hear a slight sigh escape her lips as her hands find my waist in a hug back.
It's the first time that I’ve touched her in almost ten years, and if someone had told me during that last summer before we parted for college that we'd go this long without seeing each other, without holding each other, withoutknowingeach other, well I wouldn't have believed it. At one time, she’d felt like the air I needed to breathe. Like my present and future.
