“You know what it’s like when someone’s there and you get used to it, but you never ask yourself if you really like the person. I don’t think I ever really liked Derrick. I’d never had a serious relationship and he was so persistent. Now I think he was controlling, and I confused it with attention.”
“Was he nice to you?”
“At times, when he wanted to be. When it helped his career and things. I think he liked being seen with me. But no, he was mostly mean.”
“Mean how?”
“Okay, this is something I don’t tell anyone, so you have to promise not to say anything.”
“I told you, a promise made must be a promise kept.”
“Aristotle—I remember. I don’t have my GED. I never finished high school. It’s really embarrassing, but my parents—AJ—said it didn’t meananything. But it does to me. Derrick called me stupid, and I guess I believed him.”
“You’re not stupid, Jamie.”
“I’m notstupidstupid, but I don’t know a lot of things. That’s why I’m always going to art galleries and museums—to learn things. I read that book at your house and I was fascinated. I love history. I should’ve stayed in school, but AJ took off when I was sixteen so I dropped out and started serving in bars—I had a fake ID.”
“You can still get your GED.”
“I wanted to but Derrick said it was pointless at this stage in my life. The past five years have been kind of a blur, but it’s something I really want to do. I just have to find the time to do it.”
“I’ll help you.”
“That’s nice of you, but your tour’s starting soon.”
“Come on the road with me—I’m offering you the opening slot like I should’ve done five years ago. We can study on the bus and I’ll quiz you, make flashcards. Hell, it’ll be like having a built-in tutor.”
“I don’t know, Clayton.”
He grabbed his phone from the coffee table, thumbs already flying across the screen. “Too late. I’m signing you up.”
“I want to wait.”
“For what?”
She hesitated. He had her there.
“Fine,” she relented.
“That’s the spirit!” He flashed a smug grin.
She exhaled, shaking her head. “Hey, thanks for helping me with my song. I’m giving you writing credit.”
Clayton leaned back in his chair, stretching his legs out in that lazy, cocky way that made her want to roll her eyes—and maybe stare a second too long. “We had a deal. I help you, you present at the ACMs with me.”
“I was going to anyway.” She shifted, tucking one leg underneath her. Then, with a smirk, she let her gaze drift down to his boots. “Besides, maybe with the royalties from my song you’ll finally be able to afford a new pair.”
Clayton laughed quietly, tilting his head as he studied her. Then, ever so casually, he dragged his boot forward until the worn leather brushed against her boot. “Careful, sweetheart,” he murmured, his voice slow, deliberate. “Keep looking at me like that and I might think you’re flirting.”
Jamie steadied her gaze, refusing to move her foot, refusing to let him see the way her pulse ticked up. “You wish.”
His grin turned downright sinful. “Maybe I do.”
CHAPTER 18
CLAYTON
The Uber crawled up the long, winding drive to Clayton’s ranch, headlights cutting through the thick country dark. He’d had too many beers to drive himself, but hell, by the time the car actually showed up he was damn near sober. Living out in the sticks had its perks—peace, space—but getting a ride home sure as hell wasn’t one of them.
