Chapter 1
The bass thrummed through my chest.
I shouldn’t have come. I gripped my drink, some rum concoction Jess had shoved into my hand, and tried to focus on anything except the man on stage.
Except Cole Stone made that impossible.
He stood in the spotlight wearing ripped jeans and a white t-shirt that looked like sin. Dark hair curled just enough to make my heart race. His smile was easy and warm, and when he flashed those pearly whites at the crowd, something in my stomach flipped.
I’d felt nothing for the last year. Nothing except the weight of my failed marriage and the animal rescue drowning in debt.
And now this.
“That’s him.” Brynn leaned close. “Cole Stone. I told you. Country music’s newest sensation. He just hit a million followers on TikTok last week. People are driving from all over just to see him.”
I knew. Brynn had been talking about him for weeks.
His voice was rich and raw, as if he’d lived enough to hurt, enough to survive it.
The song shifted. Something slower.
His eyes swept through the crowd.
Found mine.
Stopped.
My breath caught. The moment stretched, suspended. Around us, people drank and laughed, unaware that my entire world had tilted sideways.
Cole’s fingers fumbled with the strings of his bass guitar. Just for a second. But I caught it.
Did I make him mess up?
Me, a woman who hadn’t felt beautiful in years. Who wore dog hair like a second skin? Who’d given up on the idea that someone might want her.
He smiled. Small. Secret. Just for me.
Then looked away.
I remembered how to breathe.
“Did you see that?” Brynn grabbed my arm.
“See what?”
“He looked right at you!”
“Don’t be ridiculous. He was probably looking at someone behind me.” I took a long drink. My hands shook.
“Autumn. I’m serious.”
“Brynn. Let her process.” Jess’s voice cut through, gentle but firm.
I couldn’t process it. My brain had short-circuited somewhere between his smile and the way my body had responded. Heat pooled low in my stomach; my thighs clenched, my skin hypersensitive to every brush of fabric.
I hadn’t felt desire like this… ever, maybe.
The set continued. Forty minutes of watching Cole command the stage, of catching his gaze three more times, of pretending my heart wasn’t trying to escape my chest.
