Nashville - Combined Edition - Part One and Part Two Page 10

  Sarah is sitting on the bed, her knees against her chest, arms wrapped tight around her legs, as if she is physically trying to hold herself together. She doesn’t look at me, her gaze on her pink toenails. “Can you explain to me what just happened out there?” she finally asks.

  “Nothing happened,” I say, hearing the lack of conviction in my own voice.

  She looks up at me then, and her blue eyes snap fire. “Holden Ashford, don’t you dare play me. I deserve better than that from you. Who is she?”

  “A girl hoping to make it in Nashville just like Thomas and me.” I blow out a sigh and sit down on the edge of the bed. “Her car burned up on the side of the interstate. We stopped to help her, and that’s how we met. That’s it.”

  “That’s it?” Sarah repeats, incredulous. “She’s living in your apartment. How is that it?”

  “She lost everything in her car. It made sense for us to help her out.”

  “I get that. And why were you out all last night with her?”

  “Waiting at the pound to get Hank Junior out. Her dog. Thomas lost him while we were at work.”

  “We?”

  “We got a job at the same restaurant.”

  Sarah folds her arms across her chest and stares at me hard. “I see. Wow. It sure didn’t take long for you to forget all about me.”

  “That’s not true.”

  “It seems like you’re well on your way,” she says, tears welling in her eyes.

  My heart suddenly feels like it’s been wrapped in one big rubber band, and I know I’m coming across as a jerk. Which considering what’s been happening between CeCe and me, I guess I am. “Why did you change your mind about coming?” I ask, meeting her tearful gaze.

  “I missed you,” she says, and the words are so broken, so heartfelt that the wall of resistance inside me starts to crumble.

  “I can’t believe you drove through the night. You hate driving at night.”

  She nods. “Don’t worry. I know it was stupid.”

  I feel like such an ass. I am an ass. “It wasn’t stupid. I just wish you’d let me know you were comng.”

  “I wanted to surprise you.”

  And I can see that’s exactly what she’d hoped to do. Just forty-eight hours ago, that would have made me ecstatic. Forty-eight hours ago, we would have already been in bed, making up for lost time.

  But we’re not. And we both know something feels different.

  “I’m sorry, Sarah. It’s been a long night. I’m just beat. I need some sleep.”

  “Do you want me to go?” she asks, her voice cracking a little.

  I hear the question, and yet my response doesn’t come immediately, as it should.

  “Of course not,” I say, but too many seconds have passed for me to be completely convincing. I know Sarah, and I know what she wants right now is to tell me to go to hell and leave as suddenly as she came. But I guess she’s not ready to throw in the towel just yet, so she bites her lip and nods.

  I open the bedroom door and call for Patsy. She trots down the hallway, looking up at me with expectant brown eyes. “Come on, girl,” I say. “Nap time.”

  Inside the bedroom, Patsy looks around, walks to the side of the bed and lies down, stretching out with her chin on her paws.

  Sarah looks at her like some unidentified object just fell through the roof. “She’s sleeping in here?” she says.

  “Yeah,” I say.

  “But you know I don’t like—”

  “I know you’ve never been around dogs, and you think you don’t like them.”

  “That’s not at all fair, Holden,” she says, her voice deliberately even.

  “I have a dog now, Sarah,” I say. “I’m hoping you’ll like her once you get to know her.”

  “I never should have come here!” Sarah jumps off the bed and stomps into the bathroom, where she promptly slams the door.

  I reach down and rub Patsy’s head. I want to call Sarah back and reassure her that she did the right thing in coming. I want to. I just don’t know if it would be the truth.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  CeCe

  I should sleep.

  But I can’t. Don’t. Won’t. One of those, anyway. To close my eyes and invite sleep would be to open the current plug on my thoughts and let them come flooding in. And since I’m pretty sure I will drown in them, I opt for staying awake.

  I do take a shower, and that helps wash away some of my fatigue. I try not to think about what Holden and Sarah are doing in the next room, and when my mind refuses to blank, I increase the cold water until I’m shivering and nearly blue.

  When I walk back into the kitchen wearing jeans and a wet ponytail, Thomas looks up from a bowl of cereal and says, “Aren’t you going to bed?”

  “I don’t like to sleep during the day.”

  “Me, either. Wanna walk over to Starbucks for a coffee? I’m meeting a couple people there.”

  I glance at Hank Junior who’s snoozing on the sofa. “I don’t really want to leave him yet.”

  “He can go with us. We can sit outside.”

  At this, I immediately agree, since the last thing I want is to stay in the apartment alone with Holden and Sarah. “If you’re sure we won’t be in the way.”

  “Course not. I think you’ll like them, anyhow.”

  The Starbucks is only three blocks over from the apartment. We walk the short distance with Hank Junior on full sniff alert. He meets up with an elderly Pug and a regal Great Dane who both greet him like they’re old friends.

  We get there at just after ten and find a table on the outside patio where students from Vanderbilt sit in front of laptops, and a variety of music types talk on cell phones and text in between sips of the morning’s blend.

  Thomas waves at a girl standing by the main entrance. She waves back and walks over. “Hey,” Thomas says while they hug.

  “Adrienne Langley, this is CeCe MacKenzie,” he says. “And her boy Hank Junior.”

  “Hey, CeCe,” Adrienne says. “Hey, Hank.” She bends down to rub him under the chin, and the look in her eyes tells me she’s a dog-lover. I can’t help but instantly like her.

  “Nice to meet you,” I say.

  “You, too,” she says, standing again. “Where’s Holden?”

  “He got a little detained this morning,” Thomas says by way of explanation.

  “Oh, I was hoping he would be here,” Adrienne says, and I can see she’s a verified member of Holden’s ever-increasing female fan club.

  A tall, dark-haired guy walks up behind her and hands her a coffee. “Tall, medium roast, sis.”

  “Thanks,” she says, smiling at him. “Thomas, this is my brother J.B. J.B, Thomas and his friend CeCe.”

  J.B. shakes Thomas’s hand and then settles his gaze on me. “Nice to meet you both.”

  He’s about as good-looking as any guy I’ve ever met. If he were trying out for a movie role, he’d probably get it just because he’s got that kind of longish, wavy hair that says box office instant success. I can’t stop myself from blushing under his assessment. “You, too,” I say.

  “This table okay?” We pull out chairs, while Hank Junior settles himself in a slice of shade from a nearby tree, then stretches out like he’s got sleep to catch up on.

  “What’s your pleasure, CeCe?” Thomas asks. “I’ll go in and get us a cup.”

  “Tall blonde,” I say.

  “We are talking about coffee, right?” J.B. says with a grin.

  “We are,” Thomas says, giving him a look. “Be right back.”

  Adrienne pulls out a chair, and J. B. steps around to take the one between the two of us. He waits for us each to sit before sitting down.

  “Where are you from, CeCe?” Adrienne looks at me and then takes a sip of her coffee.

  “Virginia.”

  “All right,” J.B. says.

  “How ‘bout y’all?” I ask, attempting to ignore the suggestive edge in his voice.

  “North Carolina,”
Adrienne answers.

  “How long have you been here?”

  “Six months.”

  “And three days,” J.B. adds.

  “Made any headway?” I ask.

  “Some, I think,” Adrienne says. “We’re playing out most nights. Audiences are getting bigger. Youtube hits for our videos are increasing. And we’re getting ready to record a song that we’re releasing under our own label.”

  “Cool,” I say, feeling more than a little like the new guppy in the pond. “What’s the song like?”

  “It’s actually one we wrote with Thomas’s buddy Holden the last time they were in town. I’m so in love with it.”

  My stomach does an automatic dip at the sound of Holden’s name, and my head is filled with an instant vision of Sarah stretched out alongside him in bed, their legs entwined—

  “You know him?” J.B. asks, jerking my attention back to the present.

  “He and Thomas kind of rescued me from the side of the Interstate a few days ago.”

  “Lucky them,” J.B. says, flirtation at the edges of the comment.

  “I’m not so sure they saw it that way.”

  “They’re good guys,” Adrienne says. “If you need rescuing, they’re the ones you want riding up on the white horse.”

  J.B. rolls his eyes and slides down in his chair, crossing his arms across his nicely muscled chest. “That white hat thing can get kind of boring, don’tcha think?”

  Adrienne looks at me and shakes her head. “Don’t pay any attention to him. He likes bad girls.”

  “Hey now. Dissing your brother like that.”

  Adrienne pins him with a look. “You know it’s true.”

  Before J.B. can answer, Thomas returns with the coffee, setting mine down in front of me.

  “Thanks,” I say, pulling out the chair beside me so he can sit down.

  “I got Hank Junior a little cup of whipped cream,” he says, and puts the cup down in front of him. Hank starts to lick, tentatively at first, and then with total enthusiasm. Thomas grins. “Thought you’d like that.”

  “He’s going to be totally ruined,” I say, even as I can’t deny loving Thomas a little more each time he does something like this.

  “He’s yours?” J.B. directs the question to me.

  “Yes,” I say.

  “Which one of you sings?” J.B. teases.

  “He’s got a good howl,” I answer. “Sometimes, I’d say he’s the better of the two of us.”

  “She’s being modest,” Thomas throws in. “She sings like an angel.”

  “Really?” Adrienne asks, and despite her smile, I hear the competitive lilt in the question.

  “As you know you do, too, Adrienne,” Thomas says, tipping his coffee cup at her in mock salute.

  “Why, thank you, sir,” she says, perking back up.

  “So what is it you two wanted to talk about this morning?” Thomas asks, stretching his legs out in front of his chair.

  “I was hoping Holden would be with you so we could all talk,” Adrienne says, “but what we wanted to discuss was pitching both our acts to venues, kind of as a double header thing. J.B. and I think we draw a similar crowd and that we might make more of an impact that way.”

  “And we were hoping to write some more songs together,” J.B. throws in.

  “How far out are y’all booked?” Thomas asks.

  “A week,” Adrienne and J.B. say in unision.

  “Nothing like job security, is there?” Thomas asks, and we all smile.

  “We’re booked over at the Blue Cow tonight. If y’all want to play before us, we’ve already cleared it with the manager.”

  “Cool,” Thomas says. “I’ll check with Holden. Text you in a bit?”

  “Sure,” Adrienne says. “We’ve got an appointment with a publisher in an hour. And I need to go spiff up.”

  “All right, then,” Thomas says. “Check you later.”

  Adrienne and J.B. push back their chairs and stand. Thomas and I do the same, and I wake up Hank Junior who yawns and then follows me through the maze of tables.

  Adrienne and Thomas step aside to say something to one another, and J.B. turns to me with a smile. “Would you be free for a drink after our gig tonight?”

  Given my no doubt accurate impression of J.B. as a player, I start to say no. But then I get an instant visual of Sarah with Holden and wonder how I can possibly stay in the apartment with them. “Maybe,” I hedge.

  “How do I get that changed to a yes?” he asks, looking down at me with a grin that I am sure rarely fails him.

  “Do you like dogs?” I ask.

  He laughs then. “Not as much as girls. But yeah, I like dogs. Is that a prerequisite?”

  “Definitely,” I say.

  “Not a problem,” he says, still grinning. “So I’ll see you tonight then?”

  “Sure,” I answer.

  “Good.” He waves and gets in the convertible VW Adrienne is driving.

  During our walk back to the apartment, Thomas looks at me and says, “You gotta watch that guy.”

  “How so?” I ask.

  “His own sister won’t let her friends date him.”

  “Ouch.”

  “Did he ask you out?”

  “Yes.”

  “And?”

  “I said I’d have a drink with him.”

  “He’s not your type, CeCe.”

  “I don’t know if I have a type yet,” I say.

  “And if you’re doing this to get back at Holden—”

  “Holden has a girl friend,” I interrupt.

  “I can’t deny that,” he says. “But don’t let that make you do something you’ll regret.”

  “It’s just a drink,” I say.

  “Most mistakes start out that way,” he says. “Let me ask you this. Would you go out with him if Sarah hadn’t shown up?”

  I’d like to prove him wrong by answering with an immediate yes, but we both know I’d be lying. So I don’t say anything. What would be the point?

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  Holden

  We get to the Blue Cow at just before eight. Thomas had woken me up around four so we could practice before our set. Sarah’s upset with me because she wanted to have dinner alone and talk, but talking is about the last thing I want to do with Sarah since I have no idea what to say.

  She’s sitting at a corner table now, nursing a diet Coke and looking as if she’s sorry the idea of coming to Nashville ever occurred to her.

  CeCe is helping us get set up, and we’re avoiding each other as if both our lives depend on it. I’m trying not to notice the way J.B. is openly flirting with her, or the way she’s smiling back at him as if she likes it.

  Adrienne comes over and gives me a hug, telling me how much she loves the song we wrote together. “I can’t wait to hear you sing it,” I say.

  “Be happy to give you a private show,” she says with just enough teasing in her voice to call the offer a joke if pride needs saving.

  I stop short of an answer when Thomas walks over and shakes his head. “I ain’t envying your position, man.”

  I don’t bother to ask him what he means. “I had no idea she was coming,” I say.

  “Yeah, but didn’t she have the right to?”

  “I’m not saying she didn’t,” I admit.

  “You just weren’t expecting CeCe,” Thomas says.

  “No. I wasn’t expecting CeCe.”

  Thunder claps outside the building, loud enough to make itself heard above the pre-show music playing in the bar.

  “Whoa,” Thomas says. “They’re calling for some serious storms.”

  Thomas taps his phone screen, looks at it for a moment and then says, “Weather.com shows a tornado watch for this area.”

  CeCe walks up, deliberately not looking at me. “Tornado watch?” she repeats.

  “That ain’t no good,” Thomas says.

  “It’s just a watch,” I say. “Probably nothing.”

  I meet eyes w
ith CeCe then for the first time since this morning when Sarah had greeted us at the front door. Our gazes snag for a moment, and it feels like both of us have trouble glancing away.

  “You got a song in you tonight, CeCe?” Thomas asks.

  She looks at him and starts to shake her head.

  “Aw, come on. Just one.” He names a couple her uncle wrote.

  “What about Sarah?” CeCe says. “She might want to sing with you tonight.”

  “We’ll ask her,” Thomas says, “but I’m not sure she’s in a singing mood.”

  I give him a look that makes him duck and throw an air punch at me. CeCe looks uncomfortable and says, “You should ask her.”

  “This a private meeting, or can I sit in?”

  J.B. strolls over, one thumb hooked through the belt loop of his jeans, his gaze focused solely on CeCe.

  “We’re just trying to talk her into singing a song with us tonight.”

  “I’d sure like to hear you sing, CeCe,” J.B. says, standing closer to her than seems necessary. “We still on for that drink tonight?”

  “Yeah,” she replies. “If we don’t get hit by a tornado.”

  “Whhhhaat?” J.B. says.

  “There’s a watch,” Thomas throws out.

  “This place got a cellar?” J.B. asks, and from the look on his face, I’m thinking he’s really worried about it.

  “Shouldn’t we be hitting the stage?” I say to Thomas.

  “Eight o’clock. I reckon so,” Thomas says.

  “CeCe, you wanna hang out until Adrienne and I go on?” J.B. says.

  “Sure,” she answers, and if you ask me, her voice is a little too bright to be believable. Even so, her answer leaves me wishing I could remove the satisfied grin from J.B. Langley’s mouth.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  CeCe

  I know Holden and Sarah aren’t talking. She’s sitting at the back of the room, alternating staring at me with staring at him.

  I’d like to go on and decide that I just plain don’t like her, but then I think what it must be like to come all this way to see your boyfriend only to get here and realize that something’s changed in the few days you’ve been apart.

  I’m not saying that I think I’m responsible for that change. Maybe I’m just the bump in the road that’s making Holden question whether he and Sarah are right for one another. But even I can see that he’s questioning it.