I’m not saying I want to “settle down” in a traditional sense. But it would be nice to go at a slower pace and get to spend more time out of the spotlight. Time with my family, and time to potentially build and nurture a healthy relationship for once. If not with Addison, then maybe with someone else.
But I’m hoping it can be with Addison.
If I could figure out a way to keep making music, but to be allowed to change and grow as an artist, and to do it on my own terms, that would be amazing.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
RILEY
I’mnotsurehowlong I’ve been sitting on the porch, lost in my head and occasionally plucking out random chords on my guitar, when Addison’s car pulls into the driveway. She walks up the steps and smiles like she’s pleased to see me. But also, like it’s entirely natural for me to be here. Like this is something we’ve been doing for a long time.
“Have you been out here playing all day?” she asks as I stand to meet her.
“Not all day. I took a nap with Freddie on the couch.”
“Bet he loved that.”
“And I got some stuff ready for dinner,” I tell her. “There’s chicken marinating in the fridge and sweet potatoes and green beans cut up.”
She pulls me into her side and kisses my temple. “Thank you. You didn’t have to do that.”
“I wanted to.”
I grab my guitar and we head inside. Freddie approaches her and arches his back in invitation as she crouches down to pet him, like this is their standard greeting when she gets home. It’s cute.
Straightening up, Addison says to me, “I hope you weren’t too bored here.”
I shake my head. “No, it was nice. It was refreshing, not being confined to my room at the inn, but also not having to worry about making small talk with random people. And I wrote a new song. Most of one, at least. But it’s... I’m really happy with it.”
“Can I hear it?”
Oh.I avert my eyes to the wall of vinyl. I can’t believe I mentioned the song. I should have known she’d be curious about it.
As we’ve gotten closer, I’ve opened up to her a lot more about how the songs that I’m most known for aren’t necessarily the songs I’m most proud of. I’ve confided that my label has sometimes discouraged me from putting certain songs on my albums that explore themes outside of romantic relationships, because they think they’re “too deep” for my brand and my audience—which is insulting to both me and the fans.
I’ve shared a little bit of the new stuff I’ve been working on lately, and how I’ve been leaning into a different sound musically. Maybe even a different genre, though I’m not quite sure yet.
And Addison’s shown a lot of interest in my music and my writing process, which feels really good. She’s been encouraging and supportive without blowing smoke up my ass about how good I am or trying to push me in a different direction. That’s what I get sometimes with my label and the professional songwriters and producers I work with.
I can’t play her the song I wrote today, though. Not unless I’m ready to confess that I think I might be falling in love with her.
Forcing a smile, I make her a promise I’m not sure I’m going to keep. “I’ll play it for you when I’m finished.”
She accepts that without questioning me and makes her way into the kitchen. I follow her. “Should we have some wine with dinner?” she asks, turning back to me.
“Sounds good.”
She gives me a mischievous smile. “Should we open the bottle now?”
I laugh. “Sounds even better.”
While she goes to the pantry where I noticed a wine rack earlier, I hop up on her counter. She comes back with a bottle of red. “I don’t have any white ones chilled, so is this okay?”
“Fine with me,” I tell her, swinging my legs back and forth a little.
I watch as she grabs a corkscrew out of a drawer and effortlessly pops open the bottle. Which shouldn’t be as sexy as it is. Then she grins as she comes over to me. “We might need a taste test.”
Standing between my legs, she raises the bottle up to my lips. I obediently open my mouth as she tilts the bottle and pours the wine past my lips. I savor the velvety feel on my tongue, tasting hints of some kind of dark fruit like a plum.
