He sits a little straighter as he plays the intro of ‘Don’t Mind If I Do’by Riley Green and Ella Langley. This time, he doesn’t turn away. He looks straight at me. “Do you know this one?”
I nod. He launches into the song and I’m so in awe of him, I almost miss my cue.
My belly is stuffed with butterflies as our voices harmonize perfectly. His eyes light up and I can feel their spark blazing through my veins, too.
For the first time in forever, I’m not just performing a song. I’m not just singing.
I can feel the music. I sense every note running through my blood, every beat in rhythm with my pulse. And I feel Rust, too.
What we got is rare.
I’ve worked with plenty of artists. Usually singing together is a focused effort. You have to listen hard to make sure you get the nuances and harmonies right without overpowering your partner.
But with Rust it’s always been this easy. Natural, like the ebb and flow of the sea.
When the music fades, we stare at each other like it’s the very first time. In a way, it is. We see everyversion of each other, the kids we once were and the adults we’ve grown into.
And by some miracle, through the scars and the separation, we haven’t grown apart.
It’s like I never left.
No, it’s worse.
It feels like we’re closer than ever. I’d like to blame it on the whole corpse thing and how the adrenaline from covering up a crime brings people together, but deep down I know this connection is something we always had.
The distance didn’t snap the thread of fate between us. It forged it into steel.
I’ve come across plenty of dangerous men in showbiz. Men who lie and cheat. Men who want to use you and abuse you. But Rust with his honest grin and his heart on his sleeve is the most dangerous of them all.
Cause it’s easy to resist the bad apples, to spot the rot from a mile away. But my childhood sweetheart can still sweep me off my feet and make me wanna lay down my head next to his every night—even on a wobbly air mattress.
He calls me Trouble, but this country boy from rural Kentucky is my worst nightmare and my sweetest dream. He’s everything I always wanted. And now I know with ultimate clarity that I won’t survive losing him a second time.
That’s why I gotta draw a line.
When this week is over, friends is the best outcome I can hope for.
“How about we sing‘Jackson’next?” I suggest cheerfully, but when that magical atmosphere between us fizzles away, my heart hurts.
It’s for the better.
Rust smiles. If he’s as disappointed as I am about the change in the mood, he doesn’t show it.
He strums a chord. “It’d be my pleasure.”
24
RUST
We pack up at sunrise.
Tally drives the first leg to Arkansas, but we take it slow and appreciate the landscape drifting past. She seems like a different woman. The urgency has faded from her demeanor and her shoulders have relaxed.
When I take over the wheel, Tally grabs her guitar from the back. Her fingers dance over the fretboard and the notebook lies open on her lap, slowly filling with notes and fragments of lyrics.
I see the wordsTailgate Harmonyand my heart trips.
She’s writing a song based on last night.
