Prologue

Pierce

“I cheated on you.”

The words seemed to echo in the spacious hotel suite, making me wish I could snatch them back. This plan sounded viable when my manager suggested it, but standing in front of the love of my life and saying these words to her… they burned like acid on my tongue.

“You what?” Her face crumpled as she shook her head and took a step back. “No. You wouldn’t do that to me. To us.”

She thought she knew me so well, but she didn’t know the lengths I’d go to for the sake of my career. I’d been writing music for other artists for years. I was finally getting my big break, and I couldn’t let anything stand in my way.

Not even a green-eyed angel who claimed to love me enough to follow me anywhere. I could see my lifestyle was making her miserable. She hated the travel, the award shows, and the constant media attention. She resented it when people tried to take pictures of us. She got jealous watching women make a grab for me during concerts. She’d even shut down her social media accounts because she was tired of strangers contacting her.

“Last month in Atlanta,” I said, trying to speak around the cotton ball feeling in my mouth, “some chick came up to my room after the show—”

She interrupted my confession with a cry and covered her ears with her hands. “No! You’re lying. You wouldn’t do this. You said you’d never cheat on me.”

A clean break. That’s what my manager claimed was best for both of us. He’d reminded me that Keira was a sweet small-town girl with a huge family and lots of friends who had all the support she needed to get on with her life once I was gone. It would be better for her in the long run, he assured me. Better for both of us. I wasn’t sure I believed him, but I was tired of hurting her and watching her try so hard to fit into my world when it clearly didn’t make her happy.

“You need to hear this,” I said, gripping her wrists. “You need to understand what a selfish prick I am.” So you can get over me. Fuck. I didn’t want her to get over me. I didn’t want her to stop loving me. But as my manager liked to remind me, I couldn’t have it all. “I don’t deserve you, Keira. I was never good enough for you.”

Her preacher father loved to tell me that I was never good enough for his baby girl. Sure, I’d had a drinking problem. I’d passed the toke more times than I cared to remember. I’d smoked cigarettes until I was nineteen, the same year they claimed my old man. I’d slept around, fought, drag raced around our small town, and even stolen a time or two from the local convenience store when I was hard up for a pack of smokes.

But being with Keira changed all that. I stopped drinking and taking stupid risks. Bypassed the drugs, slowed down, committed to one woman, and started to take my music seriously. She was the reason I was on the verge of something big now. She was the one who believed in me, who encouraged me. And how was I repaying her? By breaking her fucking heart.

Her old man was right. I didn’t deserve her.

“You need to know I have no self-control. I thought I did. I thought when a hot woman dropped to her knees and offered to suck me off, I’d be able to say no every time. But I was wrong. I couldn’t. I didn’t.”

She glared at me, her eyes flashing with hatred and disgust before she slapped me across the face.

She was a tiny little thing, but fiery. A Southern girl who could be sweet and polite, but cross her and look out. All hell broke loose.

“You want your whores?” she screamed, shoving me. “Have them! I’m done with you!”

I was a full foot taller than her and nearly a hundred pounds heavier. Her little outburst didn’t even budge me physically. But emotionally, it brought me to my knees. I was half a second away from telling her it had all been a lie, that I would never touch another woman.

When she crossed the room to get her suitcase, I thought about following her, crawling after her, begging, crying, anything to make her stay. Instead, I stood there like an idiot and watched her walk out of my life. But not before she threw my engagement ring back in my face.

***

Keira

“I just can’t believe he would do this to us.” I was crying in my big sister’s arms. The sobs still racking my body. It had been three days and I still couldn’t wrap my head around the fact my fiancé had cheated on me. Why? Hadn’t I been enough for him?

“Forget about him,” she said, soothing me as she stroked my hair while she held me.

We were in my bedroom, the same bedroom I’d had since my parents brought me home from the hospital. I’d grown up in this old farmhouse with seven siblings, and it had always felt so full of love, like it could protect and shelter me from anything the world might throw at me. But I was wrong. Nothing could protect me from the havoc he’d wreaked on my life when he pulled the rug out from under me.

We were supposed to be getting married next year, and I was finally going to be Mrs. Pierce Eason. I wasn’t proud of that name because of how well-known he was with his platinum records and countless awards for his contribution to country music. I was proud because it belonged to the only boy I’d ever loved and it was something he wanted to share with me. His name.

I didn’t care about the money or the awards. I didn’t care about the fame or that his songs seemed to be on every time I turned on the radio. I didn’t even care that he’d introduced me to a bunch of famous people over the past couple of years. I only cared about him. Making him happy. Helping him see his dreams come true.

God, what an idiot I’d been.

I reached for a tissue and blew my nose, disgusted with myself for crying over a man who’d had so little regard for me and our relationship. “You know what? Fuck him!”

“Sssh,” Connie whispered, darting a glance at the closed bedroom door. “Daddy’s home. You don’t want him to hear you.”

I was twenty-three years old and still wasn’t allowed to swear. Sometimes being a preacher’s daughter really sucked. Like when you needed to vent.

“I’m done!” I reached for another tissue, swiping it roughly over my face. “I am done crying over that man. I hate him. I hate what he did to me—to us—but I refuse to let him break me.”

“Good for you,” Connie said, gripping my shoulders. “You’re beautiful and smart.” She winked. “You could even be sexy with a little help from me. There are dozens of men in this town who would love to help you forget him.”

She was right. That’s all I needed. Just a little help to forget him.