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“Beth.” He leans in and kisses the corners of my mouth, grabbing my hand and tugging me down the hallway.

When he opens a door on the right, I wonder if I’m going to get my dressing room fantasy, but he simply walks me inside, closes the door behind us, and wraps me in his arms and hugs me . . . and it’s the best.

“I can’t believe you’re here. Thank you for being here. But how are you here?”

He leans away, looking incredulous.

“Well,” I chuckle, a little breathless and in awe of it all myself, given the past twenty-four hours. “It’s been a trip, let me tell you.”

“Please do.”

“It started with finding out about the Dasher Valley 8 yesterday morning, going for a walk to clear my head, having a heart-to-heart with your mom, then working like a banshee to get everything ready for the Dash so I could drive through the night to make it here for the show.”

He shakes his head, eyes bugging. “Wait, wait, wait. You drove here? Through the night. Beth! You must be exhausted.”

“Don’t hold me accountable for anything I say right now.” I stifle a yawn. “Except for the part about me loving you . . . that, I very much meant, but I’m probably about to get incoherent.”

“Why didn’t you catch a flight?” he asks.

I look at my shoes, suddenly bashful. Gabe told me he loved me—he’s been showing me that all month. But telling him why I drove feels presumptuous. I’m hesitating when a finger appears beneath my chin, tipping my head up.

“There you are,” he says, his low voice sweet and warm like fresh caramels. “Talk to me.”

Okay, then. How’s a girl supposed to say no to that!?

“I thought I might stay awhile. See your town while I’m here. If you want to show it to me. And if I had my car, it would be easier.” I shrug and turn my head out of his grip.

He crushes me against him in a hug. “I want to show you everything about Nashburg.”

When he pulls back, he keeps my arms in his grip. “I kinda can’t believe this still, Beth. You were so against the music thing. Are you sure you’re okay with this?”

I reach up and cover his hands with mine, interlocking our fingers. “I had a long drive to think and overthink this, Gabe. I’m sure.”

He nods slowly, holding my gaze. “Can I ask what changed?”

I squeeze his hands. “When I got the news about the Dasher Valley 8—not even the news that I didn’t make the cut, just the news that the list was out—my first thought was I wish I could be with Gabe.” I smile at him. “It wasn’t I wish Gabe was here. It had less to do with a place and more to do with a person. I choose you as a person. That means I choose what makes you who you are. It’s so obvious that music is life-giving for you. I want to support that. We have a lot to sort out, but I’m ready to do that—to figure it out with you. If we have to split time between Dasher Valley and Nashburg, sign me up as long as when we come home, we come home to each other.”

I exhale and blink up to find tears glistening in the corners of Gabe’s eyes.

“Thank you,” he whispers. “I love you.”

I rise up on my tiptoes and brush his tears away. “And I love you.” I sink back down. “Now, first things first, I could use a nap and then some coffee, and then I’d like to see your town and—”

My phone buzzes in my pocket. Once. Twice. And a third time.

I frown, pulling it out to silence it, and my jaw drops.

“What is it? Everything okay?” Gabe asks.

I flip the phone around so he can read the messages.

Jack

I’m gonna propose to Ivy!

Tonight at the ball. Her parents are able to come into town last minute to surprise her. And Grandma and Grandpa are here.

Where are you??? Could use some help . . .