It’s strange to be back in Nashville — back home.

I’ve walked its every street, eaten at every restaurant, played at every dive in town. I spent twenty-two years here, dreaming of the day I’d finally cross those city limits for good. So eager to escape the destiny awaiting me here, I couldn’t recognize everything I was leaving behind.

After a long meeting with Francesca and an uneventful soundcheck, the rest of the band heads to our hotel’s rooftop pool, but I head out into the night instead. I walk ten blocks, my steps unhurried even as my pulse pounds with nerves. The two tickets are burning a hole in my back pocket with every step.

I stop outside the warehouse, eyes lingering on the fading WOODS ELECTRIC sign hanging over the open bay doors. The van’s missing from its spot, so he’s probably out on a work call. I steady my shoulders as I step inside and cross to the small office. The lights are doused, the doors locked.

Pulling the ticket envelope from my pocket, I grab a pen off the hallway table. The tip hovers as I think about the last words my father said to me.

You walk out that door, you’re no longer my son.

The pen finds purchase and I scrawl the words on the back of the envelope before I lose my nerve.

I don’t bother signing my name. He’ll know.

Sliding the envelope beneath the door, where he’s sure to find it, I turn and walk away from the future that could’ve been mine, a new peace settling over me with each step.

Maybe they’ll come. Maybe they won’t.

Either way, I’ll sleep easier knowing I tried.

For too long, I’ve been letting my life slip away, waiting for things to change with enough time or distance or space. But if I’ve learned anything at all, these past few months of misery, it’s that nothing ever alters without putting in an effort.

Don’t run, I told Felicity, weeks ago. Stand and fight.

My lips twist into a smile — the first that’s crossed my lips in so long, I can hardly remember my last.

It’s time I take my own advice.

“Nashville!” Felicity’s voice booms through the speakers. “Y’all are looking particularly amazing, tonight!”

The crowd roars in response, screaming her name as she bends to touch the hands reaching up from the front row. I don’t let myself glance at the far left corner of the floor section. I don’t want to see if the two seats I reserved for my parents are still empty.

“And can I just add…” My words echo out to every corner of Nissan Stadium. “It’s so damn good to be home!”

The screams of nearly seventy-thousand people shake the air all around us. It’s the biggest show we’ve done in quite a while, and their energy is infectious.

“Before we play our last song, I just wanted to take a minute to say thank you, on behalf of the entire band, for coming out to see us tonight.” Felicity’s speech is well practiced, at this point. “All of us, at one point or another, have called Nashville home. It’ll always have a special place in our hearts. We love this city — and we love y’all!”

They scream at the top of their lungs, cheering for the song they’ve been waiting for all night. Felicity starts walking toward the catwalk so we can sing Faded in the center of the crowd. She glances over her shoulder at me with confusion when she realizes I haven’t moved from my mic.

What are you doing? Her expression screams. Come on!

But I don’t move. I just look at her, standing there in her starry dress, sparkling like the prettiest constellation I’ve ever seen. When the crowd’s roars grow to an impatient crescendo, I adjust the strap of my guitar and lean into my mic.

“Actually, folks… we’re going to do a little something special for you tonight, before we say goodbye.”

Felicity is pale with uncertainty. Eyes wide, spine stiff, she walks back to the main stage to stand by her mic.

I look to Aiden and Linc, to make sure they’re following me. The bassist gives a grave nod; the drummer a wide grin. They’re ready. They’ve been ready for this moment for weeks.

My smile is soft as I lean into the mic again. “How’d y’all like to hear something we’ve never played before?”

Their answering hollers are louder than ever, their enthusiasm palpable in the air all around us.

“Now, I wrote this song a while back.” I glance out at the crowd, my lips twisting in a smirk. “It’s about a girl I made a promise to, a long time ago. A promise I haven’t always honored in the past.” I pause. “A promise I intend to start honoring from this day on.”

Their yells are deafening, people whispering back and forth, speculation flying in the air. I hear a soft sound from Felicity, but I don’t look at her — not yet.

I’m not finished.

“Because this girl? This goddamned girl…” My smile turns to a grin. I shake my head and laugh. “She’s so damn beautiful, even though she’s broken. She’s impossibly stubborn, but unfailingly kind. She doesn’t ask for help, even when she needs it. She’s not perfect — hell, she’s a damn mess, most of the time. But she’s my mess. She’s mine.” My head turns to hers. Our eyes lock in an instant. “Felicity… This one’s for you, baby. It’s called Move the Stars.”

The audience goes wild, but I hardly hear them — the whole world faded out of focus as soon as I turned to look at her. She’s all that exists, anymore.

Behind me, Aiden and Linc play the intro, the one we’ve practiced in the late hours these past few weeks, when the girls are asleep. The rhythm builds, my fingers hit the strings, and with my gaze holding hers, I sing.

The song fades out and the audience explodes. It’s an unbelievable reception, considering it’s their first time ever hearing it, but I don’t give a damn. I don’t pay them any mind at all. Because Felicity is walking toward me. Closing the distance between us with purposeful strides, her face a beautiful mask of determination.

I barely have time to spin my guitar around to my back before she slams into me, a jarring impact. My arms go around her, dragging her closer as she rocks up onto her tip-toes and slides her hands deep into my hair. When she lifts her face to mine, scant inches away, I can see every single golden fleck in her bottomless eyes.

“You’re mine,” she breathes, making my heart swell to bursting. “And I’m yours, Ryder. Fuck the rest.”

I’m so stunned to hear a swear come out of her mouth — the only one I’ve ever heard her use — I’m pretty sure I gape at her. At least, until she leans in, laughing, and presses her lips to mine in a kiss so sweet, so pure, so real and so right, it takes everything in me not to break down, right there in the middle of the stage, with the whole world watching.

Mine.

She’s mine.

Fucking finally.

I can hardly see straight, let alone listen to the cheers and catcalls that reverberate far outside the reaches of this stadium, as the news breaks on social media and sweeps across the world like an indomitable flood.

Did you hear about Wildwood?

Ryder and Felicity…

They’re back.