It’s about us.
I think.
I hope.
The performance ends, and the crowd erupts. Summer and Cash hug, both grinning.
The camera stays on them.
Cash says something in her ear, and Summer laughs, throwing her head back. He kisses her cheek.
The video recording cuts.
Fox elbows my side, and I ease my headphones around my neck. “Shit, have you seen all this press she’s getting?”
His fingers tap across his screen, then he starts reading aloud:
CMAs Breakout Performance: Summer Starling and Cash Walker Deliver Show-Stopping Duet
Summer Starling is country music’s newest sweetheart
Cash Walker and Rising Star Summer Starling Spark Romance Rumors at CMAs
“What—let me see that.” I snatch Fox’s phone and read the article.
Scroll.
And the next.
Scroll faster.
And the one after that.
They’re all the same story.
More photos. The red carpet. His arm wrapped around her. Her smiling up at him. The cheek kiss after their performance.
The article speculates.
“Sources close to the pair say they’ve been inseparable during recording sessions.”
“Their chemistry is undeniable, both on and off stage.”
“Could this be country music’s next power couple?”
I read it twice.
Summer with Cash. The perfect country music couple?—
I know it’s not real. I know her. That she takes every opportunity to smile, and laughs at her own jokes, how she talksto Grace like she understands her, and has the cutest little snore that she’ll absolutely deny. I know how her face looks when she’s performing something she means versus something she’s selling.
I know her as well as I know myself, and Iknowthere’s nothing romantic between her and Cash.
“It’s just tabloid bullshit.” I hand his phone back, maybe a little harder than necessary.
Fox nods, pocketing it. “Yeah. Summer’s not like that.”
“I’m sure it’ll blow over.” I crack my knuckles. “Just gossip. Comes with the territory.”
