“Never,” I said. “Crosby. Never. I let that go. I told you that. We both wear scars. We can see them and touch them, but they don’t matter unless you know the story. We know our stories and here we are together.”
We shared silence again. Slowly, Crosby slid his hands down my arms until he touched my hands. His fingers slipped between mine and took a firm hold. He lowered his head down and touched his forehead to mine.
“I shouldn’t have said what I said,” he whispered. “Or let my mind discount your niece’s life.”
“You’re a hero, Cros. That’s all anyone sees.”
“And that makes everything feel worse.”
“I know that,” I whispered. “That’s why I’m here. That’s why I love you. So we can face our pain hand in hand and not let anything get in the way of what we want.”
“And what exactly is it that we want?”
“I have no fucking clue,” I said and smiled.
Crosby grinned. “I warned you not to fall for me. Loving me is going to drive you mad.”
“I already am mad.”
“Me too.”
Crosby inched his lips down to mine.
The kiss was soft, sweet, the stubble of his upper lip flirting with my upper lip.
I loved the way he smelled. I loved the way he tasted. I loved the way he made me feel.
“Hey, love,” he whispered with his lips still touching mine.
“Yeah?”
“I want to play a song for you…”
I stood with my hand over my mouth as I fought back the tears. Crosby played a guitar I’d never seen him play before and sang a song I’d never heard him sing either. The way he did it was so different too. He wasn’t just playing this song, he was living it. He was part of it. He was feeling it. This was the kind of musician Crosby was meant to be. Or maybe who he was before he lost his nephew.
As if I needed another reason to love him more, I now had it.
He strummed the last note of the song and stood up. He spun the guitar around and put it down and just stood there. Completely vulnerable to me.
“That’s the one I never finished, love,” he said.
I let out a shaky breath. “That was amazing, Cros. I mean it.”
“I feel like hell, but when I look at you, I feel okay.”
“I know,” I said.
“I want you forever, Josie. I want your messy clothes and messy hair. And your paintings. I want to see everything you do and see who you are all the time. Good times and bad. I want you here with me. And if this house isn’t what you want, then I’ll fucking leave right now.”
I rushed toward him and jumped into his arms.
As he held me, I felt the emotion finally win the battle.
Watching him walk away was hard to see. Not knowing where he was going or if I’d ever see him again. I never wanted to see that again. Wherever he went, I would go too.
Crosby sat down and kept me in his arms. I straddled him as his hands ran up to the sides of my body. The touch was anything but innocent and so were my thoughts that raced through my mind.
“I lost an ending once before,” I said. “I can’t lose this one. Whatever the ending is, Cros, I need to see it through.”
“And I saw an ending once before,” he said. “I want to see the ending to what we have.”
“So, are we just going to not get along?”
“On most things, yeah.”
“But we can still run and smoke?”
“Actually, I was thinking of taking a break from running,” Crosby said. He stood up, taking me with him again.
“Oh?”
“I have a better way of getting my heart racing,” he said. He kissed me. “I have a better way of getting in my cardio.” He kissed me again. “And I have a better way of torturing myself…”
His next kiss went to my neck.
He started to walk, and I hurried to reach out and managed to grab at the top of a guitar. It fell down with a loud booming echo.
“Sorry,” I said. “Right here, Cros.”
“What?” he asked.
“Right. Here.”
Crosby grinned.
He looked left to right and nodded.
Still holding me in his arms, he reached with his right hand and swiped it across the table, knocking away equipment and notebooks.
I let out a gasp, hoping he didn’t ruin anything.
My attention changed back to Crosby as he quickly opened my pants. My hands fought back at his pants.
It took a matter of seconds before we were both ready, his right hand flat to the table, his left hand between his legs.
“Private recording session, love?” he teased and nodded to the soundboard next to us.
“Private show,” I said back as I dug my nails into the back of his neck and pulled.
He kissed me and brought his body to mine.
I let out a gasp and put my head back.
Crosby kissed down to my neck and then to my ear.
“We’re here forever, Josie,” he whispered to me. “There’s no getting over you…”
I pulled at him, wanting more. Wanting the same as he did.
I opened my mouth to tell him I loved him, but no sound came out.
That was okay though…
I had the rest of my life to tell him how much I loved him.
EPILOGUE
PAINT THE PICTURE…
MONTHS LATER
Crosby
I kept a black hat on my head to let the bill cover my eyes. I wished I had more room to pace around because being in a little café left me with very little room. It wasn’t the first show I had played, but it was still the same feeling as I waited to get up on that stage and do my thing. The music mattered to me. The words mattered to me. And finding a way to keep people watching and being there with me was the most important thing.
When I took to the small corner stage, the applause was probably ten people. Most of them I already knew. Josie had taken it upon herself to invite her brother and his family. I reached out to Cindi, but she wasn’t able to make it. That was okay with me. Just being able to talk to her was good enough for now. I wasn’t sure what time would bring us, but as long as we had time, I was okay with it all.
The first time I looked out to the small gathering of people, I saw Jonny.
Standing in the back, leaning against the big window, looking proud and cocky all at the same time. He had been begging me to go out to Nashville to visit. But I knew how that would go. A visit would turn into being thrown into a recording studio. And Josie would be behind it all the way too. She wanted me to record my songs and get them out there. My compromise with both of them was to keep writing with Jonny as he took the music world by storm.
For Josie, she finally got her break with a small gallery showing through some woman she’d been working with for the park mural. At the showing she met someone who was putting together classes for painting with kids. Kait jumped at the chance to help too, which turned into a big project for Josie. She taught painting classes and took all the side work she could get.
My love was an artist, living the dream she had always wanted to have.
Our walls were filled with amazing paintings that were changed almost daily. The house was never settled and never really organized like a normal home should have been. And I loved every second of it. I loved sitting there, throwing together a new song while listening to Josie hum terrible sounding notes as she painted. The smell of her skin and the smell of her paint were forever the most intoxicating smells in the world.
We ran five times a week together.
We smoked a little less. But not much.
And we loved in a way that I never knew could exist.
I stood on the small stage and played my five songs with everything I had to give.
When I hit that last chord and thanked the people for being there, they all applauded. With a quick wave, I exited the stage to make room for the next person up to perform. Someti
mes it dug at me that I wasn’t in Nashville with Jonny. But I couldn’t take Josie away from what she was doing now. She was amazing at teaching how to paint. The kids loved her, and she loved the kids. And I just wasn’t sure what I wanted to do with music. Just playing shows around the area was good enough for me.
I packed up my guitar and walked through the café as a woman stood on stage, reading poetry from a notebook. She read the poetry in a rhythm that was instantly addictive. Her passion and drive showed through the words and it caught my attention for a few seconds.
She had the place almost completely silent.
I saw my fan club standing near the door and pointed and nodded to go outside.
Outside, Josie attacked me with a hug and pulled me down for a kiss.
“You did so amazing,” she said. “Your best show ever.”
I always laughed when she called it a show. She was so adorable. And I loved her so much.
“Great job, Crosby,” Corey said.
We shook hands. “Thanks for coming.”
“That was good,” Kait said. “Very good sound.”
“I taught him everything he knows,” Jonny said.
“Yeah, right,” I said. “Mr. Big Shot here.”
I looked down at a yawning Meadow. “What did you think?”
I crouched to meet her at eye level.
“It was okay,” she said.
“Meadow,” Corey snapped.
“Just okay?” I asked.
“I mean, it didn’t change my life or anything.”
I started to laugh.
“Wow, she’s a tough critic,” Jonny said.
“You have no idea,” Josie said. “She tells it like it is.”
“What could I do to make it better?” I asked Meadow.
“Maybe add some lights,” she said. “Or lasers. Or some dance moves.”
“I’d pay to see that,” Jonny said.
I noticed a slight twang in his voice.
I looked up at him. “Are you changing the way you talk to fit in?”
“What?” he asked, looking flustered.
“That’s what I thought,” I said. I looked at Meadow again. “I will keep that in mind. I hope you’ll come to another show.”
“The hot chocolate was worth it,” she said.
“Good then.”
I stood back up and put an arm around Josie.
“We’re going to head home,” Kait said. “Way past bedtime.”
“For Meadow too,” Corey said.
“How’s the house search coming?” I asked.
“We’ve narrowed it down to two,” Kait said.
“Does it have a guesthouse?” I asked.
“Shut up,” Josie said.
“Not for you, love,” I said. “For me. When you finally kick my butt out.”
“Crosby, you’re welcome over anytime,” Corey said. “We owe you everything for the rest of our lives.”
I felt the sting in my heart.
Josie casually touched my back and tapped me three times.
That was her thing. When anyone brought up the fire and me rescuing Meadow, she would do that. To let me know she was there, because she understood what it all really meant.
“Well, we should get going,” Kait said.
I shook hands with Corey again. I hugged Kait. I offered a fist bump to Meadow, but she reached for a hug. I lifted her up and she squeezed me tight. Call it what you want, but I swore she knew what happened to her and what I did for her. That helped to ease the pain. Knowing she would continue to be herself and grow up.
Meadow reached for her father and they walked away to their minivan.
“You played amazing, man,” Jonny said.
“I appreciate the support,” I said.
“You’re a fool for not being out there with me,” he said.
“I know,” I said. “But what I have here is more than anything a stage could give me.”
I reached for Josie’s hand and she put her head to my arm.
“Such a wimp,” she said. “I’ve broken him.”
“Yeah, you have, darling,” Jonny said.
Except it sounded like daaaalin…
“Holy hell, brother,” I said. “Take that fake accent and go somewhere else.”
“Sorry,” Jonny said. “It’s good for the image.” He shrugged his shoulders. “I’m going to catch a flight out. You should visit soon.”
“I will,” I said.
“No, you won’t,” he said.
“Stop offering.”
“Never,” he said.
He threw his hand out.
I knocked his hand away and hugged him.
Maybe I am turning into a wimp. Shit.
Jonny walked away, and I was left alone with Josie.
Just me, her, and my guitar case.
It felt like this life of ours was just beginning.
I pulled the covers up to Josie’s neck. She loved to be tucked in and wrapped up in covers. She made it hard to enjoy cuddling. But I could watch her sleep all night and write songs in my head that she would probably never hear.
Sleep came and went for me ever since I started writing my own songs again. Moments would hit me, and I would be wide awake for hours to write and record. The way I had been addicted to running and beating up my body was the way I was addicted to music. And if I wasn’t working on my own stuff, I was working through Jonny’s ideas. He would send me chords, riffs, and lines of lyrics. It was my job to make sense of it all and put it together into a song.
Tonight, I wasn’t awake for music.
I had something else in mind.
After spending so much time watching Josie and the way she handled herself with her painting, I decided to do something for her.
I was painting her a picture.
It was the worst painting in the history of mankind, but I didn’t care. I wanted her to have a memory of mine that she could keep forever.
And that memory - and that crappy painting - was of a girl in a window, slightly hidden by curtains. The pretty girl next door whose name I never knew. The one that painted and drove my young heart crazy. The one that stuck in my mind and made me want to impress with my guitar.
Josie had been twisting my heart for a lot longer than she could ever imagine.
I finished the painting and sat there, shaking my head.
It was terrible. I couldn’t make a straight line with a ruler. It was just a mishmash of lines and colors.
But I had a way to take away the embarrassment a little.
A folded up piece of paper. Song lyrics. For her. For a song that I would never record, and a song that I would only play for her. Anytime she wanted me to.
Next to that was a little black box.
Inside, a ring that came with a question and a promise.
Now I just needed to make sure I was awake before her the next morning.
So she could find me down on one knee, with a good song, a bad painting, and our next step at seeing what forever could actually feel like.
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It was only meant to be every other weekend. But now I need him every night.
As a single mom, a relationship was out of the question. So we had an arrangement.
The first rule: every other weekend. But that wasn't enough.
The second rule: he can't meet my son. But he did, and they got along.
The third rule: I won't fall in love. But I couldn't help it.
The final rule: I'll never let anyone else break my heart.
And now that rule is about to be broken too.
(JORDYN)
I basically had two choices on the night. Okay, maybe three. First being going back inside of Shammy’s and just
pretend like nothing happened. That meant sitting at the bar hoping that nobody else would bother me like that guy did. The second choice was to just go home. That was possibly the logical choice because I could go home and sleep. That was logical because it involved my bed, my comfy covers, and a night to do completely nothing and relax. The last choice was the one I took.
Following Ramsey as he drove toward the edge of the town.
What exactly was I doing?
That was a question that had no answer in my mind.
I had myself ready to work, only to be told not to come in. Then came the decision to go out with Norah, which turned into what I thought it would. Not that I could blame her for wanting to enjoy her life. I probably should have done the same. Except the guy I attracted turned out to be a creep who thought it was fun and flirty to touch my drink, try to touch my phone, and touch my arm when I clearly didn’t want it.
Yet, I was following the guy who punched the guy who was touching me without my approval.
It was almost like stepping over fire to step into fire.
The truck pulled to the side of a large and steep dirt road. It didn’t look like much, but right over the ridge was a cemetery. It was a strange kind of cemetery because it was on such a steep hill and overlooked the entire town.
When Rams stepped out of his truck and left the door open, I knew where this was going.
I sat there and watched him walk toward my car.
He was everything that screamed trouble, or maybe a night of fun. Built a mile wide with a pissed off look on his face, my headlights reflecting off the dark color of his eyes as he stared straight ahead, right at me as he approached my car.
I put the window down, playing coy and actually enjoying it.
“Did you get a flat tire?” I asked.
Ramsey grinned.
A sense of comfort went through me and that’s when it finally made sense.
I was comfortable around him.
Yet I had no idea why.
“I was going to give you a ride to the next part.”
Getting Over You Page 30