“That’s a big smile,”a familiar voice calls out.
When I glance up, I find Nolan standing a few feet away, his hands tucked into the pockets of his skinny jeans. His eyes are red-rimmed and his face has that distinctI’ve been cryinglook. I don’t know what to say or do to comfort him, instead I just open my arms and hope. Must’ve been the right thing to do because Nolan quickly crosses the distance between us and all but falls into my outstretched arms.
“It’s okay,” I murmur into his wild hair.
His fingers dig into my shoulder blades as he tries to burrow himself into my body. A cold wind blows over us, forcing Nolan deeper into my arms. In these small moments, I almost think I can protect him from everything bad, mean, and awful. Maybe if I tried hard enough, I could force his brain to be nice to him.
“She wants me in weekly therapy sessions, and she gave me a prescription for a pill,” Nolan says, sounding the picture of a defeated man. “She said something about depression and anxiety but I zoned her out because she also used this really big phrase about trauma…”
I take a deep breath and hug him tighter. “Well, now we have a plan, right?”
“I fucking guess,” Nolan mumbles sourly into my shirt.
“I’ll bring you to therapy every week, and we can get lunch afterward. We’ll make it fun, less scary.”
Nolan pulls away to stare at me with those haunted, deep brown eyes. “At some point, I’m going to have to answer to the label. Chris can work wonders, but he’s not liable… for me.”
I run a hand through his hair, smiling when his eyes dip closed at my touch. “We’ll figure that out when we get there, okay?”
“Okay,” Nolan agrees just a little too easily. He pulls away to run his gaze over my body. A smirk lifts up the corner of his mouth; that small, hidden dimple almost coming out to play. “You look ridiculous in my clothes.”
I chuckle. “You look pretty good in mine.”
Nolan rolls his eyes while rounding the truck to the passenger side. He leans against the roof to stare hard at me. My blood sizzles and boils as his eyes bore right into me.
“That’s because you’re a caveman, Benjamin.”
“Oh, yeah?”
Nolan nods and rests his chin over his arm. “You like people knowing who I belong to.”
“Who do you belong to?” I ask, throat thick with emotion, heart pounding wildly out of my chest.
“You, obviously,” Nolan answers as he climbs inside the cab of the truck.
I have to take a minute to gather myself before climbing in myself. The last thing I need is Nolan clocking every emotion I’m feeling just because I can’t control the lovestruck look on my face.
“Places to see, people to do!” Nolan calls out from the truck.
I try to wipe away my grin, but it must linger because when I slide into the driver's seat, Nolan rolls his eyes in my direction. Doesn’t stop him from reaching over and twining our fingers together over my thigh as we drive.
“Do you feel better?” I ask.
Nolan shrugs slightly, his permanent frown deepening. “Kind of. But just knowing I don’t have to perform anymore silences a lot of the worst thoughts in my brain. And having you helps.”
“You never have to perform again if you don’t want to.”
Nolan turns his head so I can’t see his face at all and his voice is soft when he says, “I don’t know how to make music without performing.”
“Is that what you want? To record and release albums but never tour?”
“That’s the dream,” Nolan quietly admits.
I squeeze his fingers as I maneuver the truck off the highway and onto the small county road that leads into Clay Springs. He’s silent the rest of the way, and I don’t press him for more. The key to loving Nolan Hastings is to wait him out. He’ll give his small truths when he’s ready and not a second sooner. No problem for me. I can wait patiently for a long time, which is probably one of my best qualities.
Nolan eagerly jumps out of the truck the moment it’s in park.
“I’m going to take a nap. Leave me alone for a while, stud.”
