by Caisey Quinn
“It is,” he confirmed her unfinished question as he led her to the driver’s side. “And Lord help me, I’m going to let you drive us to the house.”
She grinned and leaned up for another kiss. “How’d you get it? Oh God, Trace. Please tell me you didn’t steal it.”
He laughed as he helped her up into the cab. He jogged around to the passenger side and hopped in. “No, Kylie Lou, I didn’t steal it. I negotiated. I can be very persuasive when I want to be.”
“So she actually sold it to you?”
He nodded. It hadn’t been an easy process getting it here tonight, and he’d paid four times what her daddy’s truck was actually worth. But there was no reason for her to know that. “Yeah, babe. She did. Now are we going to sit here all night talking about it, or you going to take me home and have your way with me?”
His beautiful girl turned on the seat, the weathered leather beneath her groaning in protest. Knowing he’d put that light in her eyes, that best-day-of-my-life look on her face, made it well worth it. He’d have paid five times more than he did. Ten times over. He leaned over to kiss her once more. But she did something he wasn’t expecting. Wrapping her hands around his neck, she yanked him to her and practically climbed on top of him. He buried his hands in her thick hair as she kissed him so hard it hurt. He groaned out loud. She was the best kind of pain. The addictive kind. He licked against her tongue and her swollen lips in the same way he liked to lick against her clit when they made love. Her sweet moan said she recognized the gesture. He hoped her daddy wouldn’t haunt him from the grave for contemplating sex with his daughter in his truck.
“Thank you,” she breathed when they came up for air. “I love it. I…I love you.”
Time stopped and his hands let go of her even though he didn’t mean for them to. His chest began to throb due to the painful punch of his heart against his ribs. You were supposed to say it first, you fucking moron. He closed his eyes and tried to breathe. Say it back. Say it the hell back, Corbin. But when he swallowed, it was as if he’d swallowed the words.
When he opened his eyes, they met her wide, shocked ones. She didn’t mean to say that. She got caught up in the moment. He needed a drink. He needed to tell her he’d been drinking. He’d had a few after the show to ease his nerves about their date. His fists clenched because he had so much to say, and for some reason he couldn’t say shit. Tell her everything. If she still wants to be with you after that, tell her you love her back.
“You ready for this?” Kylie asked as she turned the key in the ignition. Her sweet smile looked forced. He knew she was trying to pretend her declaration of love hadn’t even happened.
Trace made himself grin back. When their gazes met, his mind went haywire. And then blank. The ride. She means the ride. But something in the way she was looking at him said she meant a whole lot more. And he didn’t know the answer to that.
“Yeah.” He leaned in for one more kiss, hoping it would ease the sting of the words he hadn’t said. “Yeah, I’m ready.” But he kind of wasn’t. Not really.
THEY were about fifteen minutes outside of Macon when Trace plugged his iPod into the dock he’d installed. He scrolled to the song he liked the most so he could get Kylie’s opinion on it. And because he desperately needed to do something about the impenetrable, suffocating silence that had filled the cab since they’d left Atlanta.
“Tell me what you think of this one,” he said as he clicked play. She’d been quiet the entire drive. He didn’t like it. He hoped music would ease the tension. The song was called If This is Goodbye and had been written by some unknown. Noel Davies had included it in the list of ones he wanted Trace to record and it was the only one he liked. He was surprised at how much he wanted Kylie to like it too.
A woman’s voice filled the cab of the truck. If this is goodbye, I’m gonna say what’s on my mind. If this is goodbye, I wanna look you in the eye.
Kylie took her eyes off the road briefly to glance at him. Her expression told him she was into it already.
Everybody’s got a side of them that no one else can see, but the first time you looked in my eyes, I knew you saw that part of me. So if this is goodbye, if this is goodbye, I’m gonna say what’s on my mind.
You may not love me the way I need you to. But as long as my heart beats, I’ll still be in love with you.
So if this is goodbye, if this goodbye, I wanna kiss you one last time. ‘Cause I know I’ll run and hide. When I see you out, when I see you with her, when I see you walkin’ down the street. I’m gonna pretend I don’t notice. I’m gonna pretend it’s not killin’ me.
I don’t want to walk away. I don’t want to let you go. But you made that choice for us and it’s too hard to hold on.
So if this is goodbye, if this is goodbye, I’m gonna say what’s on my mind. If this is goodbye, I wanna kiss you one last time.
He turned the speakers down as the male voice began singing his part. “Well, what do you think?”
“It’s a duet.”
“Yeah?” Not exactly the answer he was expecting.
“It’s nice. I like it. Kind of sad, but pretty. Soulful. Be a good chance for you to switch it up from the drunken party anthems.”
Trace shifted, lowering his arm from where it’d been resting on the back of the bench seat. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?” He sang more than just party anthems, dammit.
Kylie laughed at him. “Actually it sounds a bit more like something Bryce Parker would sing. It’s just not your usual—”
“You gotta be kidding me.” He rubbed his hands roughly over his knees. Jesus, this woman knew how to press his buttons.
“Trace, I wasn’t tryin’ to upset you. Just doesn’t sound like something you’d choose, that’s all.” She glanced over at him. He knew he wore his hurt on his face. “I didn’t mean—”
“Forget it.” Now they were even. Both hurting because they didn’t get the reaction they’d been expecting.
“Excuse me?” She turned and looked at him with her forehead all scrunched.
“Never mind. I like it. Thought you might be interested in recording it together. Obviously you’re not.” He shrugged like it wasn’t a big deal. But for some reason this hurt a lot more than it should. Probably not as much as not hearing ‘I love you’ when you’re expecting it, asshole.
“Trace! Don’t be a baby. I would love to—”
“Turn left at the next road,” was all he said. He switched the iPod off and checked his cell phone. He had four missed calls from Gretchen and one from Pauly. Great. This night was going straight down the shitter.
“I know how to get there,” Kylie said quietly.
He nodded. He wasn’t trying to be a dick. Not really. It was dark and the back roads weren’t exactly well lit. But his pride was wounded and he knew there was some shit going down somewhere because Gretchen was calling him again. He cursed himself for ever giving that woman his number.
“Pauly?” Kylie asked, nodding at his cell phone buzzing in his hand.
Well this wasn’t going to go over well. He cleared his throat. “Gretchen.”
He could tell by the way her posture stiffened that this bothered her. But her voice was even when she spoke. “That her calling now?”
“It is,” he answered honestly.
“Answer it. Might be important.”
He sighed. Looking down at the screen, he saw that the call had gone to voicemail. Whatever. Gretchen could figure out her own shit. He ran a hand through his hair, wishing he could start the whole night over again. “Look, I’m sorry. I don’t know why that song is such a big deal. It’s not. I just heard it and thought maybe we could talk about recording it. But you’re right. It’s not exactly my sound. But then neither is The Other Side of Me and that one’s going to be huge, right?”
Kylie smiled tentatively at him as she turned into the driveway. “I like the song, Trace. I didn’t mean to make you upset. It’s just not the direction you’ve been going the
past few years. I mean, you recorded Goodbye in Your Eyes like two years ago and that’s the last time I’ve heard you singing a ballad like that. I guess Not That Kinda’ Man sort of fits in with that though, so yeah. This could be an amazing song if you really want to do it.”
It made him feel good that she followed his career. He smiled and leaned over to kiss her as she turned the truck off. “It’s okay. I appreciate you being honest with—”
Before he could finish, his phone buzzed angrily in his hand. He glanced down at the same time Kylie did.
“Just answer it.”
He hit accept on the screen. “Gretchen, what the hell are you—”
“You were right. I need help, Trace.”
Jesus. She was a sobbing mess.
“I can’t…I can’t do this anymore. I don’t know what to do. I’m at the hotel and I tried calling him and he won’t talk to me and I’ve ruined everything.” Her words ran together, and Trace had no idea who “he” was, but she sounded awful. Weak. Very unlike Gretchen.
“Calm down. I’ll be there as soon as I can.” He should’ve told her to get some sleep and they’d talk tomorrow. But in a way, it was a relief to have an excuse to bail. For the first time ever, he needed to put some distance between himself and the girl he loved more than anything. He wasn’t mad at her at all. Not about the song and definitely not about saying she loved him. He was pissed at himself. For being unworthy. For lying this whole time about his drinking. For not being able to say what he should have when she gave him the chance. He was on edge, drowning in a sea of feelings he’d never learned to swim through, and he damn sure didn’t want to take any of that out on her. But he knew he would if he didn’t back off.
Gretchen sniffled and sobbed loudly. “Oh-okay. Shit. I didn’t mean to ruin your night. God. I ruin everything. Trace, I’m sorry. Just—”
“Shh. Breathe, Gretch.” Trace rubbed his neck, trying to ease some of the tension that was holding him so rigid it ached. It didn’t work. He glanced over at Kylie. Her expression was so completely blank he knew she had to be making a pretty serious effort to keep it that way. “Try and calm down. I’ll be there in a few.”
After he disconnected the call, he turned towards his girlfriend. His supremely pissed off girlfriend. “Hey.”
“Hey yourself,” she answered, still staring straight ahead.
“Gretchen is going through some stuff and I need to go talk to her. Before she does something crazy.” He took a deep breath. This was not a position he was used to being in with a woman. One where he cared so much about her being upset. He hadn’t technically done anything wrong but knowing their night was ruined, the last night they’d get for five more weeks, sucked.
Kylie nodded without looking at him. “Okay.”
“Babe, look at me. I don’t want to go. I kind of have to.” Do I really? Is that a lie? He wasn’t sure anymore.
Finally she turned to face him “Why? What are you supposed to do about it? Why is this your problem?” The pain in her eyes made his head throb. Hurt and disappointment rolled off of her in waves. She was disa-fucking-ppointed because he had to deal with Gretchen instead of being with her. And because he couldn’t just say what she needed to hear. Well, that made two of them. This was it. The other shoe was dropping. He didn’t know what he’d been thinking trying to play this perfect boyfriend role. It wasn’t him. It never would be.
He scrubbed a hand over his face. “It’s complicated. Basically the label has decided we’re a package deal. Either of us screws up, they pull the plug, and we’re both gone.”
He watched as she bit her lip. “Oh-kay.”
“And honestly? When I was all fucked up, you were there for me. You were brave enough to be honest with me when no one else was. I kind of feel like I should pay it forward, you know?” He rubbed her leg gently, hoping to pull her closer but she didn’t budge. “I won’t be long.”
“When will you be back?” Her usually clear voice was soft and heavy. With hurt. You’re hurting her. Again.
“As soon as I can. Promise.”
“You want me to go with you?”
“Naw. You don’t need to see this.” The last thing he wanted to do was drag his beautiful angel into the gutter. Hell, he wasn’t even sure he could handle seeing it.
For some reason that seemed to hurt her feelings worse. “I don’t mind.”
“Kylie, there is no way I’m putting you through this right now. I’ll calm her down and come right back.”
He watched her force a smile that never made it to her eyes. “You’re a good man, Trace Corbin.”
No I’m not.
She leaned forward and kissed him softly on the mouth. He didn’t like it. It was nothing like their usual heated kisses. It felt a hell of a lot like goodbye.
“OPEN up, Gretch. It’s me.” Trace pounded his fist on the hotel room door. His stomach twisted at the thought of what awaited him on the other side. Alcohol probably. And lots of it.
The door opened and Gretchen stood there, still sobbing with mascara streaking down her face. “Hey, t-thanks for coming.” She stepped aside so he could come in. Strangely enough, he didn’t see any telltale signs of an all-night bender anywhere. Damn. He’d have to go somewhere else to get a drink then. She sat on the bed and stared down at a wad of tissue in her hand.
“You’re welcome. Want to tell me what the hell is going on with you?” Trace sat in a chair beside a table and waited for her to tell him what her deal was. After a few moments of sniffling, she looked up. Pain, raw and exposed, filled her eyes, her face. He needed a drink to deal with this. Women crying was his kryptonite.
“I’m ready to talk to Dr. Reynolds, Trace. The sooner, the better.”
“Seriously?”
Gretchen nodded, and he breathed a huge sigh of relief. Jesus. He had no idea what the cause of Gretchen’s sudden turnaround was, but he wasn’t questioning it. He whipped out his phone and texted both Dr. Reynolds and Pauly to meet them first thing in the morning. Or now if possible.
When he was finished, he looked up at her. She was a woman he’d considered a friend once. And then a friend with benefits. And now just a woman who needed help. “Not that I’m not thrilled to hear that you’re ready to get help, but what brought this on?”
She startled him by tearing up all over again.
“Whoa. Hell, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to—”
“I have a son,” she said evenly as she wiped her eyes. Trace’s heart stuttered, missed a beat, and restarted all out of rhythm. “Today is his birthday. I called but he didn’t…he didn’t want to talk to me.”
Oh dear God. Please no. The internal plea was the closest he’d gotten to prayer since he was a kid. He forced himself to breathe deeply. The world slid off its axis and began to spin around him. “H-how old is he?”
She grinned through her tears and shook her head. “I had him two years before I even met you, Trace. He’s eight.”
“Oh praise God. I mean, not to be a dick, but you just scared the ever-living shit out of me.”
She rolled her eyes. “Relax, you’re not a daddy. Well, you might be. Who knows where the hell you’ve been? But you’re not my kiddo’s dad, so you can rest easy.”
His breathing was slowly returning to normal. “So who takes care of him while you’re on the road?”
Gretchen’s usually hard gaze went soft as she stared at a point in the distance. “My mama. She’s pretty much raised him. His dad was never in the picture and I haven’t been…” She trailed off and glanced up at him with pleading eyes. “I never meant for things to get so—”
“Shh, I know, Gretch. I understand.” He did. He really did. As much as Gretchen pissed him off and drove him half insane, he knew what it was like to feel like you’d given control of yourself to something else. To give up on dealing with your problems and settle for the numbness. Kylie had shown him kindness and strength, and she’d been there for him when no one else was. Maybe he could do the same thing f
or Gretchen.
“Dr. Reynolds is coming, okay? But I really need to get back to Kylie. She’s not exactly thrilled about me being here.” He stood to leave but Gretchen reached out and touched his arm.
“Trace. Do you love her?”
His world threatened to spin again. It was a simple question. But the answer was complicated. “Yeah. Yeah, I do.” He ran a hand through his hair and tried to think straight. Why in the hell did I just tell Gretchen when I couldn’t even tell her? “I didn’t even know if I was capable of that, you know? But she…she makes me feel like I’m capable of just about anything.”
Gretchen tilted her chin up and stared up into his eyes. “I’m a mess. I know that. And it takes a mess to recognize one. If you love her, if you really want to have a future together, you should get some help, too.”
What the hell? Trace snorted. “Don’t be dramatic. I’ve got it under control.” He slid his arm out of her grasp.
“That’s what I thought, too,” Gretchen whispered. “Then eight years went by.”
He rolled his eyes and headed towards the door.
But the woman wasn’t done apparently. “I know you’re still drinking. How do you think she’d feel about that? How will you feel when she finds out?”
Her words stopped him cold. The fact that she’d said when not if.
It would be the end of my fucking world. That’s how I’d feel.
Gretchen sighed as if she’d read his thoughts. “I’ve never been in love. Not like you and her. I saw the way you looked at each other. And yeah, I was jealous.”
Trace turned and stared wide-eyed at her admission.
Gretchen rolled her eyes. “Not like that, you arrogant bastard. Just…I wish I could find that. Someone to love me like that—even though I’m damaged goods.”
He swallowed hard before he spoke again. “She told me she loves me. Tonight. I bailed.” Fuck. That look on her face was burned into his memory. The emotions flitted across so fast he barely had time to name them. Surprised, probably at her own words. Then hopeful as she waited for his response. Then bone-deep hurt when he couldn’t give her what she needed.