Hannah peeled out of the drive. I looked over at Bo and he shrugged before I lifted the hoe over my head and slammed it against the earth.

“She likes you, you know?”

I wiped the sweat from my brow with my forearm. “Yeah?”

His ho pounded the dirt. He pretended to be focused on what he was doing, but I caught the way his jaw clenched, how his lips twitched. He didn’t like it. “Don’t hurt her,” he said.

“I won’t.”

“Better not.”

The screen door banged closed and I glanced up, squinting against the sun blazing over the roof of the house.

“Bo,” John said, stepping off the back porch. “I’m goin’ to Walmart to pick up your momma’s prescription before the pharmacy closes. Can you keep an ear out in case your momma needs something?” He shoved his hands into his jean pockets. “She ain’t been feeling too well today.”

“Sure, Pops.”

“Your check is on the counter, Noah.”

“Thanks, John.”

He gave me a fleeting glance, then made his way to his truck.

“Guess we’re done,” Bo said.

The engine to John’s old truck fired up and we grabbed the tools. John pulled off, Sampson chasing down the driveway after him. We propped the tools against the shed, then headed inside.

It was always so quiet in their house. Clean and put together. I grabbed the check from the kitchen table.

The floor behind me creaked and Bo glanced up. “Momma, you okay?”

“I’m fine.”

I spun around and Claire was standing in the doorway, holding onto the frame. Her skin had a yellowish tint to it. And even though purple rings surrounded her eyes, I could see Hannah. The petite nose. The cupid’s bow of her lip. Her deep brown eyes. God, it hurt because that was Hannah’s heart right there.

“Hi, Mrs. Blake,” I said.

“Hello, Noah.” She smiled before letting go of the doorframe. Bo hurried across the kitchen, grabbing her elbow. “I’m fine,” she said and headed down the hall.

“Momma…”

“I’m fine. I just want to play my piano.”

Bo started after her. “Do you feel like—”

“Please… please!” Her voice shook. “If I’m going to die, I want to at least pretend I’m not.”

Bo’s shoulders fell.

“Noah, I hope you don’t mind, but I have a favor to ask you.”

“Sure…” I didn’t know what she could want from me, but I’d have done anything she asked.

I followed her to the living room where she took a seat at the piano and immediately began flipping through sheet music. “This was one of Hannah’s favorites to play for me,” she said when she placed the open book on the music rack. She placed her fingers over the ivory keys and a tragically beautiful melody followed. “Do you know this song, Noah?”

With closed eyes, I listened. I knew the song. It was one I’d played many times before. “Breathe” by Will Champlain. “I do.”

“Hannah told me you had the most beautiful voice she’d ever heard,” she said. “I’d love for you to sing this for me.” She patted the spot on the bench next to her and I moved beside her, carefully taking a seat.

I was nervous for some reason. Terrified I’d fuck up and sing the wrong line. I never gave a shit if I messed up when I played at Tipsy’s. When I sang the second line, everything inside of me tensed. I was singing a song about dying to a dying woman. There was a slight shake to my voice and she placed one hand on my knee before going back to the keys. Halfway through, she stopped playing.

“I just want to hear you sing.”

So I sang the rest with my eyes closed. When I finished and opened my eyes, her hand was clutched to her chest. She slowly pushed up from the piano bench. “Thank you,” she whispered. “You have a gift.”

“Thank you, ma’am.”

“Whenever she’s sad, sing that song to her and tell her I’m still with her.” She patted my arm on her way out of the room.

I swallowed, my breath sticking like molasses in my throat. “I will.”

Moments like that, they’re why I pretended I didn’t have a heart. Sometimes, life hurt too much.

By the time I got home, Old Man’s lights were out, and he wasn’t in his yard. I was so busy staring at the dark windows I nearly missed the Mazda parked to the side of my house.

I slammed the door shut, glancing over at the car. “You know, you don’t answer your texts,” Daisy’s voice floated across the yard and I caught the cherry-red glow of her cigarette when she lifted it to her lips.

“Yeah, that’s the beauty of free will.”

She rolled her eyes on a huff. “You’re a dick.”

I feigned a bow as I step onto the porch. “What are you doing here?”

“Well, that guy, Brice Taylor, that’s been trying to get in touch with you…” She took another drag, blowing a steady stream of white smoke through her lips. “He asked me to have a word with you since you keep hanging up on him.”

How the hell does she know? I scrubbed my hand over the back of my neck, swatting at the mosquitoes still buzzing around. “How do you even know about that?”

She laughed and tossed her cigarette down. “I told you my videos would make you famous one day.”

“Yeah, right.”

“He saw the video and commented on it.” She pulled her phone from her pocket and swiped her finger over the screen. “Look.” She held up the phone and I took it from her with a roll of my eyes. Daisy was the type of girl who would do just about anything for attention. I stared down at the comment from a profile with the name: TheRealBriceTaylor. “Okay, so some dickhead made a fake profile to be funny.”

“No… he emailed me and said he loved your sound, something about looking for some new talent. I don’t know, but I gave him your number and you keep hanging up on him.”

“It’s bullshit. Go home.” I crammed the key into my lock and opened the door. She of course followed me in, but I stopped in the doorway. “Daisy, look, I appreciate it, I do, but I’m just not…”

She trailed a finger over my cheek and I jerked away from her touch. “You’re too humble, you know it.”

“Would you leave?”

“He’s gonna call you again tomorrow.” She rolled one shoulder. “It could change your life.”

“And why do you even care?”

“Jesus, I’ve had a thing for you since sixth grade.”

“And? So…”

“All great love stories have a sacrifice.”

Swiping my hand down my face, I groaned. “Daisy, that doesn’t even make sense. You aren’t sacrificing shit.”

“I just want you to be happy, for you to see how good you are at something.” She smiled, and I almost felt bad for being such a dick to her. “And besides, whether you like me or not, you have a great voice.” And then I did feel bad.

“Shit, Daisy… I, I’m sorry. Thank you.”

She took a small step toward me, placing her hand on my chest. Give them an inch… I grabbed her wrist just as she pushed up on her tiptoes and closed her eyes.

“Just kiss me, one time.” She huffed. “I’ve earned that at least, haven’t I?”

I leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to her cheek. She groaned. “Wow. You really are a dick.”

“Daisy, just go home.” I took her by the shoulders and shoved her back a step.

“Don’t forget where you came from, Noah Greyson.” She glared at me as she took a step back onto my porch.

“Oh, don’t worry about that.” And I shut the door in her face, locking the deadbolt.

Halfway across my living room, I pulled my phone from my pocket and swiped through the received calls until it landed on the number with no contact information. 615. I typed the area code into Google. Sure enough, it was a Nashville number. What the fuck?

My heart banged against my ribs, adrenaline flooded my system. It couldn’t be legit. It couldn’t be real. I glanced around my shitty house and through the window at Old Man’s house. It couldn’t…

My phone rang, breaking my mind from its rambling thoughts. I didn’t even check the number, I just answered it. “Hello?”

“Hey,” Hannah said. “I, uh… I’m at the jail. Can you, can you come get me?”

“You’re what?” I thought she was screwing with me. “Seriously, where are you?”

“At the Rockford County Jail. Daddy’s gonna kill me, please come get me.”

“Shit.” I turned in a circle, looking for my keys and finally spotting them on the end table. “Okay. I’ll be there in ten minutes.”

The smell of mildew and cigarette smoke hit me like a wet rag when I stepped into the jail’s waiting room. Mary Anne, the wife of the town drunk Jebidiah, was perched on a chair, reading National Enquirer. She peeked over the top of the magazine, eyeing me up and down before she lifted a cigarette to her lips. I didn’t think you were supposed to smoke inside, but she was a regular visitor and Jeb’s bail money probably paid at least two of the bailiffs.

“Can I help you?” one of the attendants asked from behind the glass window.

I stepped over, pulling my ball cap off before I leaned down to the open area of the window. “Hannah Blake,” I whispered.

“Who?” She popped the gum in her mouth. “I can’t hear you.”

“Hannah Blake.”

“Hannah Blake,” she said loudly, typing on her keyboard. Her fingers paused over the keys and she quirked a drawn-on brow. “That’s John Blake’s daughter, right?”

Clenching my jaw, I nodded.

“That’s a shame. She was such a good girl.”

I heard Mary Anne’s paper crinkle. I glanced over my shoulder to see her staring in my direction. “The preacher’s daughter?” she asked, her eyes going wide. “What’d she do?”

I shook my head and turned back around.

“She’ll be right out, hun. Go have a seat.”

I didn’t have a seat. I stood right by the door. When the lock clicked and the buzzer sounded, the door swung open. I expected Hannah to be a complete mess, swollen eyes, splotchy face, but she wasn’t. She walked right out, shoving a yellow piece of paper in her jeans. “Thanks.” She headed toward the doors, waving at Mary Anne. “Hi, Mrs. Lockhead.”

Mary Anne waved as Hannah walked outside. The door nearly hit me in the face, and the second I caught up to Hannah, I grabbed her hand. “What in the hell?” I nearly laughed. “Why were you in there?”

“I stole a boat.”

“What?”

“Or as you like to call it, borrowed a boat?”

An amused laugh slipped through my lips. “Really?”

“I needed serenity, and someone told me the middle of the lake was the most serene place you could go.” She smirked, and while I found it adorable as fuck, there was a little nagging in the pit of my stomach. I kept hearing that lady inside the jail say, “She used to be a good girl.” Something told me I’d already tainted her.

She stopped beside my car, waiting for me to get the door for her.

“Don’t let me rub off on you, pretty girl.” I yanked open the door and jerked my chin back toward the jail. “You see where it gets you.”

“I’ll just have you know I made friends with the lady in the cell with me.” She hopped in the car with a grin. God, she was something… “Besides, life is about experiences, right?”

Shaking my head, I went to the driver’s side. I felt her staring at me when I shoved the key in the ignition. I looked over and cocked a brow. “Yes?”

“I’m glad I met you.” She scooted across the seat and grabbed my face, pressing her lips to mine.

Something so damn little, but it meant the world. When she pulled away, I bit my bottom lip on a groan. “Woman, you have no idea what you do to me.”