Kinley

I’m sad to see Grayson leave Foxhaven, but I’m happy he’s well enough to get back to his life. It’s been a real joy having him around. He’s always optimistic and happy, even with everything going on with his sons, and I’ll miss having a father figure type around. Dad would’ve liked him, I’m sure of that.

There’s no doubt he’ll be visiting because I know he and Harriet have started seeing one another, though she always brushes it off if I ask about it. My stomach is a knot of nerves on the drive back to Nashville, and I turn to see Grayson grinning at me from the passenger seat.

“What?” I ask with a smile.

“Nothing. Holt told me you two have a date tonight. I’m happy to hear it.”

“It isn’t a date. He just wants to talk.”

All I get is a nod and smile as he turns his attention back to the passing scenery.

“What was Holt like when he was young?” Coming from such neglect and tragedy, I can’t imagine how he coped.

“A lot like he is now, but a bit more withdrawn. He’s an introvert, always has been, but the year after he came to live with me he barely spoke to anyone. He was a very angry young man.”

I glance at him. “Angry at you?”

“Me, his mother, Marcus, the world. Teenage angst times ten, though it was all very understandable. Therapy helped him sort some things out, but music was really his savior. Too bad it didn’t work for Marcus that way.

“It took him a while to connect with me, to believe I wanted him there and he wasn’t just a homeless burden thrust upon me. He and Marcus became close, and I think that helped him immensely. He needed someone to care about, someone to take care of like he did his mother. There’s no doubt in my mind that if he has kids someday, he’ll be a wonderful father. That boy was born to care for others.”

We spend the entire drive talking about Holt, and Grayson fills me in on a lot of the funny or endearing things he’s done. I know what he’s doing, trying to push me toward him, but I don’t say anything. Mainly because I’m afraid it might be working.

It’s not just Grayson and his stories. I thought I’d get over Holt, that once I put some distance between us, I’d move on. I’d be able to focus on the lies he told me, not the great times we had together, but that’s not been the case.

More and more, I feel like I could get past that. Maybe we could start over. Lingering doubts invade, always in the voice of my late father. “He’s a liar. You can’t trust him. How can you be with someone you can’t trust?”

I’m so torn between what logic tells me is right, and what my heart tells me is right for me.

I love him.

And it isn’t going away.

A dull headache thuds behind my eyes by the time we pull into Grayson’s driveway early in the afternoon. The house is empty since Holt is at the hospital.

“Do you think you’d be okay driving yourself to the hospital?” I ask. “I have a bit of a headache and I thought I might take a nap before meeting Holt tonight.”

Grayson smiles and nods toward the guest room. “I’ll be fine. Get some rest.”

I’m surprised how fast I fall asleep when I lie down, but I wake refreshed and feeling back to normal a few hours later. I’ll never sleep tonight after a nap like that.

It seems strange to be in Grayson’s home alone, but I’m comfortable here after staying with him after the accident. The place seems so closed up and lonely, not to mention it could use a good cleaning. Holt has probably been spending most of his time at the hospital and only sleeping here.

I’m not needed at the hospital and it’s probably better to let them do their family thing without me, so I’ll just make myself useful here. A quick peek in the fridge shows me there’s little food and some of it is expired. Grabbing my coat, I head out for a quick trip to the grocery store.

After I return and stock the fridge and cupboards, I turn on some music, open the windows just a few inches to freshen the stale air, and get to cleaning. It’s not like it’s a disgusting mess or anything, mostly accumulated dust and tracked on floors. It’s not long before I have the place gleaming and the smell of fried chicken permeates the air.

Holt and Grayson get back just as I’m whipping up the mashed potatoes. “Whew, it smells good in here,” Grayson calls, poking his head in the kitchen for a moment to smile at me before heading to his room.

My heart thumps so hard it’s a wonder the plates in my hands don’t rattle. Why am I so nervous to see Holt again? Because I know today is likely all or nothing? I’m going to decide whether to be with him or let him go. And I have no idea which it will be.

“Hey, Bug,” he says, stepping into the kitchen.

Every time I see him, it’s a punch in the stomach. Even though his face clearly shows his exhaustion and stress, nothing can hide beauty like his, and I swallow, trying to find the words to reply.

“Hey.”

Genius. I should get a job as a public speaker. He’s kept his dark hair shaved on the sides and back, but it’s grown out on top, and a few long strands hang over his forehead.

“You cleaned,” he says, looking around. “You didn’t have to do that.”

Shrugging, I continue setting the table. “I had some time.” Why does this feel so awkward? There wasn’t this much tension when I saw him last, but maybe that’s because there was so much going on. You don’t sweat the little stuff in the middle of an emergency. “I hope you like fried chicken. I thought you guys could probably use a meal after eating vending machine crap and fast food.”

“One of my favorites,” he says. We can hear the shower kick on in one of the bathrooms. “What can I do?”

My lower back hits the counter and I lean on it, trying to look casual but probably not pulling it off. “Nothing, everything’s done.”

He gazes at me for a second then his long strides eat up the distance between us. Strong arms wrap around me, pulling me against him, and my face nestles in his chest. Just like that, all the tension drains from the room, and I squeeze him back.

“Thank you, Kinley. For everything you’ve done. I don’t know how I would’ve gotten through this without your help.”

“You’re welcome,” I mumble into his shirt, barely audible.

When he steps back, I ask, “How did it go with Marcus? Did he speak to Grayson?”

“Yeah, he even agreed to let him sit in on some therapy sessions.”

A smile emerges on my face. “That’s wonderful.”

“There’s still a long road ahead, but I feel like we’re over one big obstacle. Sutton, the drummer from Jilted, is visiting him tomorrow too. He’ll be transferred soon to a rehab center in Colorado that’s equipped to deal with his addiction and physical rehabilitation.”

“How long will he be there?” I ask, grinning at Grayson as he enters and takes a seat.

Holt grabs everyone a drink from the fridge. “At least a year, but it’s near a recording studio, and the band has agreed to relocate once he’s able to work again.”

It feels nice to have dinner with Holt and Grayson, and they both compliment my cooking, inhaling the food like they haven’t eaten in months.

“It’s probably a good thing you came back now, Dad. You can’t be eating like this all the time. I think I see a second chin starting.”

“Shit.” Grayson rubs a hand down his face. “Good looks like this don’t fade, boy. I’m only sorry I couldn’t pass any on to you.”

Giggling, I point out. “Harriet likes his looks.”

Holt grins at me. “Is she near sighted or far sighted?”

Laughter fills the house, and I have to wonder how long it’s been since the walls have heard that.

After dinner, Holt pokes his head into the guest room. “Are you ready to go?”

“Where are we going?” I look down at my tight jeans and flowy yellow blouse.

“A little bar where we can talk. You’re dressed fine. You look beautiful.”

My eyes scan him, from his dark jeans, to his navy blue Henley that clings to his muscles, making me want to touch them. And lick them. And…okay, I need to stop that. It’s been too long since I’ve been laid, and my hormones are in overdrive.

“You clean up pretty well, too.”

The bar Holt takes me to is small by Nashville standards, but clean and inviting. It’s not packed, but there are quite a few patrons seated at the tables, playing pool, and dancing on the dance floor.

After we find a table, Holt asks what I’d like to drink and heads to the bar to order instead of waiting on a waitress. He chats with the bartender for a moment, then shakes his hand. I wonder what that’s about. He probably recognized him. Paparazzi haven’t been stalking him as hard after his announcement outside the hospital. It’s really Marcus they want, and they can’t get to him right now.

“Do you know him?” I ask when he returns and sits across from me.

“Nah, but he seems like a nice guy.”

I sip my drink, a little unsure what to say next. He reaches across the table and takes my hand. “Kinley, I know I’ve said it before, but I need to tell you how sorry I am. I fucked up in the worst way. There’s nothing that can excuse it, but I need you to know that I never meant to hurt you. I didn’t expect to meet someone like you and I didn’t know what to do. I’d already dug myself in so deep with the lie and I was afraid of screwing things up for my whole family. I should’ve listened to my dad, not Sully, and told you as soon as we started seeing one another, but the longer I didn’t, the harder it got. I was afraid of losing you, along with everything else, but I didn’t lie about my feelings for you, Bug. And I was going to tell you.”

I want to believe that so badly. “Did you really intend for us to travel together?”

“Yes, I wanted to show you everything you haven’t seen. I still do.”

Vaguely, I hear a man announcing it’s open mic night, and a woman takes the stage and starts singing. She’s not bad, but all I can hear are the warring thoughts in my head.

“Were you going to wait until you had me out in the middle of nowhere to tell me the truth?”

Chagrined, he sits back and downs his drink. “Yes, I was. And I realize now how horrible an idea that was. You had the right to know from the beginning, but especially before you went away with me. I had Sully in my ear, threatening me with the NDA I signed any time I brought up that I wanted to tell you. I felt like I was torn between possibly hurting you and definitely hurting my family. But that wasn’t the main reason. I was just…procrastinating. Putting off telling you as long as possible because I was afraid you’d never forgive me. Every time I looked at you, I wanted to confess, but the words just wouldn’t come out. I’m sorry. I’m so damned sorry for hurting you.”

The bartender waves to get his attention, then points at him. Holt holds up a finger, telling him to wait a moment.

“What’s that about?” I ask.

“I tried to think of the best way to get my feelings across to you. And this is the only way I know how. Excuse me for a moment. I need to run to my car.”

Now, I’m confused. It isn’t until he returns with his guitar slung over his back and nods to the bartender that I realize what he’s doing. He mounts the stage and walks to the mic, and my shaky legs carry me closer to the stage, along with a small crowd of others who recognize him.

He’s going to sing.

In public.

His self-conscious grin is adorable as he adjusts the mic. “Ah, hi, I’d like to sing a song to the woman I’m deeply in love with. See, I really screwed up and hurt her. And now…I just need her to know how I feel.”

There are a few titters from the crowd, and I hear his name whispered a couple of times, but silence drapes the room once he begins.

His voice is deep and smooth, soulful. It’s clear to me that these are his lyrics. He wrote a song for me. The room and everyone in it become background noise. All I can see is him.

My throat aches from trying to hold back tears, but they stream down my face anyway as he gazes at me and sings the final lines.

Forgive me

My bug

Set me free

My firefly

Illuminate me

The small crowd bursts into cheers, and I notice more than one phone recording. I don’t care. I don’t care about anyone or anything but getting to him.

Cheers and hoots rise from the crowd as I step onstage, throw my arms around him, and plant my lips on his. Ignoring the fact we’re being watched and filmed, he holds me tight, and slips his tongue between my lips.

We stand there in the spotlight, but the whole world could be watching, and it wouldn’t matter. There’s only him, the frustrating, talented, compassionate man I love. I’m not going to fight it anymore.

We break apart, and he leans his forehead against mine. “I love you, Bug.”

“I love you too.”

“Enough to take me back?”

“Yes.”

“Let’s get out of here,” he murmurs, and takes my hand. Multiple phones continue to record us as we make our way out of the bar to the relative privacy of his car.

“I don’t know who might’ve been streaming live, so we need to go before paparazzi shows up. They might consider that newsworthy,” he says, as he pulls out of the parking lot.

“I can’t disagree. Finding out you can sing better than your rock star brother should definitely be news.”

He laughs, but his eyes sparkle with happiness as he looks at me. “I’m not that good. Never had a voice lesson or anything.”

I slip my hand into his free one. “You don’t need them. That was beautiful. I love your voice.”

His cheeks get a little pink, and it’s so adorable on such a gruff exterior I want to jump him right there.

“We can go to another bar, see a movie, whatever you want.”

The words jump out of my mouth with no thought whatsoever. “How about a hotel?”

It’s still early, and no doubt Grayson would be up if we went back to his house. I want him alone.

“Fuck, Bug, you’re killing me,” he groans, and exits the highway toward a row of hotels.

We find one that’s nice, but nothing fancy. We don’t need fancy. Within minutes, our clothes are in a pile on the floor, and our hands are all over each other. We don’t bother pulling back the bedspread in our eagerness to be together.

He smells so good, and his lips dragging across my skin feels amazing.

“I missed you so much,” he murmurs. “You were all I could think about.”

“I missed you too. Every second.” I gasp as he slides inside me, and I wrap my legs around his waist.

Sex with Holt was always amazing, but this time is different. The frantic need that usually has us clutching at one another and screwing each other’s brains out fades into a soft, sweet reconnection as we find one another again.

Slow, steady strokes are accompanied by gentle kisses and caresses that heat up my body in a way I’ve never felt before. He’s not fucking me, he’s loving me, and I never want it to end. Sliding his arms under me, he pulls me up until I’m sitting on his lap, riding him while he kisses my neck before bringing his lips to mine again.

His arms tighten around me as I moan through a pulsing orgasm that seems to go on forever. He utters my name during his release, burying his face in my neck. It’s perfect. I can’t imagine ever giving this up again.

After round two, we decide not to spend the night at the hotel. Neither of us has any clothes or toiletries, so we head back to Grayson’s to sleep, sneaking in like two high school kids past curfew.

Curling up with Holt in bed, I feel like I’m back where I belong. Like I’m home.

The smell of coffee wakes me the next morning, and I roll over to inhale the amazing smell of Holt lingering on the sheets. I can hear the shower running which explains why I’m waking up alone. They have a family therapy appointment today, and as much as I hate it, I need to get back to Foxhaven.

Grayson nods at me from the kitchen table. “Good morning. Coffee is fresh and there are donuts on the counter.”

“Stop trying to fatten me up,” I tease, pouring myself a cup of coffee. I grab a banana from the fruit basket and sit across from him.

“Holt says you’re heading home today.”

“Yeah, I don’t want to, but I have too many projects in the works to be absent right now.”

He sips his coffee and takes a bite of his donut. “I’m sure Holt won’t be long in coming to visit.”

“I guess he told you we’re back together.”

“He did, and I’m happy as a pig in slop to hear it.”

Laughing, I shake my head. “Now I know where Holt gets his poetic talent.”

Holt walks in and drops a kiss on my lips. Standing behind me, he rests his hands on my shoulders. “No more flirting with my girl, old man.”

“I have a woman of my own coming to visit me, thank you very much.” He grins in my direction. “Assuming she can get the time off from her boss.”

“I’m sure we can arrange it. Harriet is amazing. You two make a good couple.”

Grayson excuses himself, and Holt sits next to me. “Do you have to head back today?”

“Yeah, I do.”

“I have to be in a therapy session with Marcus and Dad today and tomorrow, but I could come for the weekend.”

I lean to press my lips to his. “I’d love that. This long distance thing is going to suck.”

He kisses the edge of my mouth, then rains tiny kisses down my jaw. “We’re only a little over an hour apart. I just got you back. I’m not letting you away from me for long. Things are stabilizing with Marcus, and Dad is back. I’ll have more time.”

“Good, because I’m kind of addicted now,” I murmur, tilting my head as he kisses my neck. My hand wanders down to cup him through his jeans.

“Addicted to my cock?”

“To every part of you,” I breathe.

His phone rings, breaking the moment and reminding us we’re making out in his father’s kitchen. It’s a good thing because Grayson enters right after.

It isn’t easy saying goodbye, but at least this time I know it’s only for a couple of days. Grayson gives me a bear hug, and thanks me again. I make him promise to come and visit when he has a chance.

Standing outside of my car, Holt gives me a long, slow kiss that I feel on every inch of my skin. “Be careful, and text me when you’re home safe.”

“I will. Good luck in the therapy session.”

Getting into my car feels like we’re pulling apart two powerful magnets. All I want to do is stay with him, but I know it won’t be long.