Page 3 of Beneath a Tennessee Sky

“Oh, it’s war now?” I say, stepping toward her.

She grins. “I’m just saying you’ve got a little something right there.” She taps her own cheek.

We end up chasing each other around the backyard, paintbrushes swinging like swords. Aggie yells at us to “quit clowning and finish the job,” but even she’s laughing by the time we collapse on the grass, breathless and covered in blotches of orange.

I lie there next to Jinnie, watching the clouds drift overhead, pretending the heaviness in my chest isn’t there. Pretending I’m not thinking about Memphis. About leaving. About what it would mean to walk away from this.

From her.

She turns her head toward me. “What’s going on in that noisy brain of yours?”

“Nothing,” I say too quickly.

She doesn’t buy it. I see it in her eyes. But she lets it go for now.

We hose off as best we can—mostly unsuccessfully—and Aggie invites us in for lemonade and leftover fried chicken.

I should be happy. And I am. Mostly.

But I also feel like I’m sitting on a secret too big to keep.

When I left home, I didn’t know where I was going but I always assumed music was going to lead the way. I left my dad and brothers because I wanted to play music. Landing here with Aggie was a stroke of luck. My father taking my money actually worked out very well for me.

And now that I’m actually being given the opportunity I was chasing, I don’t know if I want it. What’s wrong with me? I should be jumping for joy. I should be shouting it from the rooftops and rubbing it in my father’s face. He never thought I would make it. He wanted me to fail. I knew my brothers would be thrilled. They would support me. My mom would’ve been proud of me. I can hear her voice telling me to follow my dreams.

“Earth to Jack,” Jinnie says, waving a hand in front of my face. “You’ve been staring at that chicken leg for five minutes without taking a bite.”

“Sorry,” I mumble, biting into it to avoid further questions.

We finish eating and head back out to slap some more paint on the shed. By the end of the day, we’d put on two coats. The thing was ugly as hell but Aggie apparently thought it was funny.

“Coming over?” Jinnie asks.

I smile because that’s what she expects. “Damn straight.”

“You kids have fun,” Aggie says. “Thank you for all your help today.”

“I think we made that shed worse.” Jinnie laughs.

“I’ll never lose it,” Aggie retorts.

“It definitely looks like a giant pumpkin threw up on it,” I say.

When we get to her place, we’re both exhausted. We clean up and collapse on the small couch. She’s curled up against me. My arm around her shoulders and her head resting against my chest. She kisses my neck with her hand moving over my chest.

Jinnie’s lips move against mine, soft and insistent. Her hand slides under my shirt. Her nails scrape across my skin in that way that normally drove me wild. I kiss her back, trying to lose myself in the moment.

“You taste like lemonade,” she whispers against my mouth.

I smile, but it feels mechanical. Jinnie’s fingers thread through my hair, tugging me closer. I pull her against me, hoping physical connection will drown out the noise in my head.

“Where are you?” she murmurs, pulling back slightly to look at me.

“I’m right here,” I say, kissing her again.

Her hand slides lower, toying with my belt buckle. My hand moves under her shirt, quickly unhooking her bra. I’m operating on autopilot. I pull her shirt off while she undoes the button on my jeans. Her hand slides under the waistband of my underwear. I close my eyes and let my body feel. I don’t need to think. This feels good.

“All right. Out with it.” Jinnie says and pulls back.