Everlasting Light

by Shey Stahl

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Dedication

  Quote

  Chapter One: I Want Crazy

  Chapter Two: Hell on Heels

  Chapter Three: Cop Car

  Chapter Four: Little Bit More of You

  Chapter Five: Get Your Shine On

  Chapter Six: Springsteen

  Chapter Seven: Backseat

  Chapter Eight: Something ‘Bout A Truck

  Chapter Nine: When He Leaves You

  Chapter Ten: Wildfire

  Chapter Eleven: Close Your Eyes

  Chapter Twelve: Ride

  Chapter Thirteen: Waitin’ On Me

  Chapter Fourteen: Strip It Down

  Chapter Fifteen: I’ll Wait For You

  Chapter Sixteen: Don’t Take The Girl

  Chapter Seventeen: Sissy

  Chapter Eighteen: Falling

  Chapter Nineteen: The Day That She Left Tulsa

  Chapter Twenty: Goodbye In Her Eyes

  Chapter Twenty-One: Whiskey Lullaby

  Chapter Twenty-Two: Playing With Fire

  Chapter Twenty-three: The Day You Stop Lookin’ Back

  Chapter Twenty-Four: Sweet Annie

  Chapter Twenty-Five: Dancin’ Away With My Heart

  Chapter Twenty-Six: A Thousand Miles From Nowhere

  Chapter Twenty-Seven: Everywhere

  Chapter Twenty-Eight: I Met A Girl

  Chapter Twenty-Nine: Break Your Plans

  Chapter Thirty: Die A Happy Man

  Chapter Thirty-One: Happiness

  Acknowledgments

  Meet the Author

  Adam Craig Music

  Raise for Rowyn

  Copyright © 2015 by Shey Stahl

  Everlasting Light

  Published in the United States of America

  First Edition: 2015

  Cover Design: Tracy Steeg

  Cover Photography: © Aspin Photography/Brandi Sorem

  Lyrics for “Close Your Eyes” “Nothin’ Wrong” “Don’t Tell Me That You Miss Me” “Waitin’ On Me” “Little Bit More of You” provided and copyrighted by Adam Craig and given permission to use.

  Lyrics for “Everlasting Light” copyrighted Shey Stahl

  Copy Editing: Hot Tree Editing

  Proofreading: Janet Johnson and Ashley Slone

  Interior Formatting: A Designs

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, sponsors, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination and are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, dead or living, is coincidental.

  All rights reserved. Except as permitted under the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise), without the prior written permission of Shey Stahl.

  This novel is not intended for anyone under the age of 17.

  “Just go already.”

  “Go where?” I taped up the last of my belongings into the large cardboard box and wrote my name on the side.

  “With us. It’ll be fun.”

  I never enjoyed those words. It’ll be fun.

  In my experience, any time someone said those words, the night turned out to be a complete disaster.

  Prime example here. Freshman year in college, the one and only time I was arrested, the night began with a boy from my calculus class saying ‘It’ll be fun.’

  What do you know? I was arrested for indecent exposure. Nothing about the night, from the nakedness to my uncle Jerry bailing my ass out of jail at three in the morning was fun. And neither was his disapproving glance at me wearing a damn tablecloth as a dress.

  I was sure this night wouldn’t be any different.

  The last thing I wanted to do was go to a party. Call me crazy, but after this last year of struggling just to graduate, I wanted to relax, finish packing up the dorm room, and head back to Mountain Brook before I started my internship.

  Laney, my roommate for the last four years, wasn’t having it and was hell-bent on dragging my lame ass with her to Lake Martin for the weekend.

  I knew all about the parties around Lake Martin, and it wasn’t my scene, especially graduation weekend. Just picture a crowded house on the lake with enough liquor to kill a person and so much noise it disturbed the entire lake. Did I mention the drugs at those parties?

  I wasn’t that girl. Not even a little bit.

  I rarely drank, didn’t smoke, and drugs? Not unless I was sick and they were necessary for me to stay alive.

  Some would call me a goody two-shoes.

  Well, I might have been, but I graduated with honors and had my head on straight—or at least on. We won’t talk about the arrest.

  There was nothing wrong with playing it safe.

  In fact, I had my whole life planned out. I’d graduate, get a job, find a husband, settle down in a house with a wraparound deck, and have two kids.

  Seemed easy enough. I had the degree part down and the job figured out.

  Now, all I needed was to cross off everything else on that list, and I’d be good to go.

  Simple enough, right?

  “You’re being a bitch,” Laney quipped, kicking my box of books in her playful tantrum. “Just go with me, Bentley!”

  Apparently, she wasn’t taking no for an answer

  “Why do you need me to go? All that’s going to happen is you’re going to see Gavin, you two will fight and go your separate ways, and I'll be stuck trying to bum a ride home because your ass has ditched me.” I set down the packing tape in my hand. “No thank you.”

  My eyebrow arched in question when she gave me an innocent stare. Laney—for as far back as I could remember—always had an ulterior motive for everything, and she never exposed her plan until she had you hooked.

  Her eyes widened, loops of curly blonde hair falling in her face. She knew I was calling her ass out. “I promise that won’t happen.”

  “Don’t you dare. You promise all the time, but you still leave me!”

  Eyes wandering around the small room, she scrambled to find something to use against me to get her way. “Beau will be there.”

  If Laney ever wanted me to do anything, she threw Beau Ryland in my face. The story behind Beau was complicated to explain, and then, not so complicated. It was as simple as a girl in love with a guy who didn’t know she existed.

  I’d known Beau since I was fourteen, which was long enough that he should know who I am, but didn’t have the slightest clue.

  Beau was what some would say, oh, you know, hot!

  A word like hot didn’t do Beau justice. Every girl in high school drooled over him, including Laney, having moved to Mountain Brook shortly before graduation, when she first noticed him at our senior party. Though he was two years older than us, he still hung around town occasionally.

  Beau had the looks with thick brown hair that fell hopelessly in baby blue eyes and the voice—as in he could sing, and by sing, I mean he was a rock star. Well, if rock stars came from Mountain Brook, Alabama, where we all grew up. He had that country edge, but he was a total bad boy too, making him completely different from your average country singer. He walked around in holey jeans, ripped shirts, and worn out black boots and usually had a guitar nearby. Did I mention he had tattoos?

  Total bad boy.

  Having admired Beau from afar for years, he was the only weakness to my plan, because that husband I spoke of, well, there was only one guy to fill that damn position, and it was Beau Ryland.

  Just thinking his name made my heart flutter.

  It didn’t matter where Beau went, rumor
s and sighing teenage girls followed him around. Sadly, I was one of them.

  Although he was talented at sports, especially football, he wasn’t some jerk face jock you usually encountered. He was a gentleman, saying hello to nearly everyone and smiling.

  Whether you wanted to admit it or not, Beau had a way of drawing you in. It didn’t matter that he was two years older than me; I had my eyes set on him since I was in middle school and he became the star quarterback as a freshman in high school.

  Football was never his plan though, despite graduating with honors and being offered a full ride to any college he wanted. He gave it all up to follow his dream of becoming a singer. I admired that about him, being able to choose yourself over what society expected.

  Wanting a set plan, I chose a degree in Human Development and Family Studies. I always found it a bit exciting that Beau chose from the heart, rather than what was the grown-up thing to do. I was never that adventurous.

  Laney waved her hand in my face, creating spears of light from the afternoon sun flickering off her bracelet. “Earth to Bentley!”

  Even our names went well together. Beau and Bentley. Perfection. Utter perfection.

  “So you’ll go?” She was waiting on my response, her wishful blue eyes pleading for all she was worth. “Please say yes. I’m leaving for Michigan next week, and then I won’t see you anymore. The least you could do is come party with me.”

  Despite the fact my friend was moving away and I wanted to go out with her, but I couldn’t stop thinking about Beau being there.

  Remember when I said I had a plan? There was a problem with my plan.

  Beau didn’t even know I existed. He also had a girlfriend, and no one stepped on Payton’s toes.

  If there was ever the perfect girl, it was Payton West. She was extremely sweet, so it made hating her even harder. It was like telling yourself chocolate tasted like dog shit because it was brown, but you knew damn well it wasn’t true.

  “So.” I was trying to play it cool and picked up the packaging tape again.

  “So what?”

  “What does Beau being there have to do with anything?” I was never very convincing when it came to hiding my feelings or attraction to Beau, but it was still worth a try.

  “Oh, I don’t know, maybe because you’re in love with him.”

  Tossing the tape aside, I lay back on my bed, which was now just a mattress, and stared up at the ceiling. “I need to get home and get settled before I start my internship at the hospital.”

  It took some convincing, but thanks to my aunt, I now had a six-month internship lined up at Hill Crest in Birmingham. It was a behavioral health hospital where I could put my degree to use.

  “One weekend off isn’t gonna kill you.”

  She had a point. It wouldn’t, but it didn’t change the fact I was awkward and would feel completely out of place at a party. Especially one Beau was at.

  “So you’ll go?” she pressed again when I closed my eyes. She knew I was giving in.

  Damn her. Or in this case, damn Beau for being my weakness.

  “Lane, he has a girlfriend.”

  She sat beside me, then sprawled out, flopping her legs over mine, her sweet-scented perfume making me want to curl into her and breathe in. She always smelled like summer, the perfect combination of sun and berries.

  “Stop smelling me, B.” She pushed my head away, giggling, and then sat up. “Word around town is Beau Ryland is single.”

  I told you she was convincing.

  Among the many thoughts I had right then, including flashes of what our babies would look like, was the amount of girls who would be at that party if they knew Beau was single.

  “How do you know that?”

  “Gavin is friends with him,” Laney pointed out. “Apparently, Beau and Payton broke up last year, but they didn’t tell anyone, wanting to remain friends and keep it civil.”

  That sounded like them. I couldn’t imagine two people like them having a bitter breakup.

  “Why is Beau going to that party? He’s on tour right now.”

  The Beau I knew rarely went to parties. If he did, he went with a group and you couldn’t get near him. He’d recently started touring with country singer Sam Shaver and that only amplified his hometown appeal. It was as if they all knew he was on the brink of being the next big thing and wanted in before he was famous.

  Imagine trying to nonchalantly bump into him at a party when he was surrounded by at least twenty people.

  Been there, done that, which just got me glared at and very nearly arrested.

  So like I said, he didn’t even know I existed, yet I could see it all in my head. Our babies were beautiful.

  Laney moved her legs from mine and rolled to face me. “Gavin said something about him wanting to have some fun this weekend.”

  Fun this weekend?

  What would that mean?

  Laney saw me wavering and handed me a pair of boots, the same ones she’d worn to the concert last Friday night. “Let’s go. You can get his attention and finally fuck him.”

  I rolled my eyes at the crassness of my roommate. Laney thought because she was essentially a slut, everyone should be. That certainly wasn’t me.

  I wasn’t a virgin, but it’d been long enough I might have possibly qualified as being one. I had sex a few times with Eldon Sheets in my calculus class. We were study partners freshman and sophomore year. To date, it was my only relationship. If you could qualify study sessions where you had sex—and then didn’t speak of it outside of that—a relationship.

  Eldon never did.

  I didn’t budge from my spot on the bed, but I did stare at the boots. They were a dark brown leather with hints of teal and rhinestones and exactly what I’d need if I wanted to get Beau’s attention.

  Did I want his attention?

  Uh, yes! Who wouldn’t?

  Trying to appear relaxed and not overexcited about going—I couldn’t let her think she had won this battle—I sat up and reached for the boots. “And what do you suppose I wear. Everything I have is packed away.”

  Laney twisted around, her hands on her narrow hips, tapping her barefoot. “I have something around here…a pair of shorts or something.”

  “I’d rather wear jeans.”

  “No.” Laney opened one box and then another. “You need to show off those legs you keep hidden behind sweatpants all year.”

  That was a true statement. I enjoyed sweatpants.

  Laney dug through a bag on her bed and then withdrew a pair of shorts that covered less than my panties. No lie.

  “I don’t even think so.” I pushed them back at her, shaking my head. “My panties cover more than those.”

  “Only because you wear granny panties.” Her brow arched, challenging me. Laney Cutler should have gone into law, not business administration like she did. She could argue her way out of anything, or convince you to sell your soul to the devil himself without you even realizing what she’d done. “I say you’re wearing them.”

  I placed my hand on my hip like I was going to stand up for myself, a feeble attempt I might add. “And what would make you think I’ll listen to you?”

  “Because you know I’m right, and you want to go.” Drawing in a deep breath, she let me have it. “For four years, no, five years, I’ve watched you focus on school, and your mother. What’s the harm in having one weekend for you before you throw yourself into the next thirty-something years of dealing with other people’s shit and trying to pay bills?”

  She had a point. A really good one.

  What would be the harm in letting loose for one weekend?

  I took the shorts from her. “Fine.”

  “Who’s gonna be there?” Judging by the ten cases of beer in the bed of my truck, I knew I was in for a wild night, or they were planning one for me.

  “People.”

  “I don’t—”

  “Beau, you’re going. Don’t try any of your usual bullshit. You’re going and
you’re going to get laid.” Wade was married and had no business being at a party without his wife.

  No surprise, but his marriage of only one year was already on the rocks.

  “Says who?”

  Wade pointed at himself, letting go of the steering wheel. “Says me.” Taking off his paint-splattered hat, he tossed it on my dash. “Chicks will be throwing pussy your way all night.”

  “Don’t be nasty, man.” I shoved him lightly. “And keep your damn hands on the wheel.” Wade had picked me up from the studio in Birmingham in my truck, which I’d let him borrow for the day. I should have made him get out so I could drive—in the opposite direction of the lake.

  “Well, it’s about time you move on from Payton.” He ran his forearm over his face and then stared at me. “Have you even fucked another girl since her?”

  No way was I telling Wade that. Fuck this guy. He may be my cousin, but he thought because he was my boy I’d share everything with him, including who I slept with. More than likely because the moment he said I do, his wife stopped putting out.

  Wade wanted to live vicariously through me. I didn’t exactly want to tell him I hadn’t been laid in months.

  MONTHS!

  I was never one to kiss and tell, let alone fuck and tell. Payton and I had hooked up a few times in the last year, but it was nobody’s business but ours.

  No matter how much fame followed me, I wasn’t going to be that guy. If anything, with the way my career was going, that type of lifestyle was the last thing I needed.

  It’d gotten me in my fair share of trouble with Payton in the past living that way. I certainly wasn’t trying to get Payton back, but I was also done being with a different girl every night. It was fucking lonely living that way.

  Flying down the highway toward Lake Martin where my buddy Miles lived, I looked over at my guitar beside me and then back to the road. “Who’s gonna be there?”

  Wade shrugged. “A bunch of girls from Auburn University. Apparently, they’re having some kind of graduation party there.”

  Fuck. That’s worse than I thought.

  I stared back down at my guitar, escaping in the music in my head to distract me from the upcoming nightmare. Lyrics flashed, so I reached for the notebook in my glove box and jotted down some random verses.