“It’s the truth.” He shrugged. “When you guys left I finally realized it was time for me to accept facts. You’re not my little girl anymore. I have to let you go, and that’s okay because I’ll always have my memories. When I look around this house I’ll hear the echo of your voice and laughter. I’ll remember the first time you said Dada.” He smiled sadly. “When I look up the steps I’ll remember the first time you came running down dressed in your ballerina outfit.” His face crumpled and he sniffed. “When I’m in the kitchen I’ll remember making cookies with you and your mom and how you used to stand on the tops of my feet and tell me to dance with you.”
Tears streamed freely down my face and I batted them away hastily.
“When I pull into the driveway I’m going to remember teaching you to ride your bike and cleaning your knees anytime you skinned them. And the big tree in the backyard? I’ll never forget the day you fell and broke your arm and called me your hero when I came running for you.” He wiped at his own tears. “I’ve been your hero for nineteen years Willow, and now I realize that it’s time for someone else to be your hero.”
“Daddy.” I crumbled and dove into his open arms.
He held me tight, reminding me with the strength of his sturdy arms that he would never truly let me go.
I wasn’t like most kids.
I didn’t grow up hating my parents and wishing for new ones.
I firmly believed I had the best ones out there.
Letting go wasn’t easy, but it was something we all had to do eventually.
My dad set me down and kissed my forehead like he’d done from the moment I was born—I had the pictures to prove it—and from the doorway we both heard a sniffle.
We looked up to find my mom standing in the doorway, crying her eyes out.
“Oh, you two,” she whispered, clutching at her chest. “You hurt my heart in the best way possible.”
“Come here.” My dad waved a hand towards her. “Group hug time. Bring it in.”
We opened our arms to allow my mom into the hug.
We stood there for what felt like forever.
I was afraid to let go, knowing that once I did it would forever alter everything. I knew things had to change. Without change we could not grow. But change was hard to accept.
Eventually we all had to let go and we dabbed at our faces, laughing awkwardly.
“There’s something important I need to talk about with you guys.” I squared my shoulders and lifted my chin, conveying in my body language that my mind had been made up on this.
My dad sat down in the chair behind him and my mom sat on the arm of it. My dad lovingly rubbed her back and she smiled down at him.
I took a deep breath and jumped straight in—it was how I approached life I figured this conversation should be no different.
“I’m not going back to school.”
My dad raised a single brow. “Why do you look like you’re about to head to battle?”
I paused, lowering my chin and shoulders. A deep breath I didn’t know I’d been holding surged past my lips. “Because I also don’t know what I want to do.”
My parent’s exchanged a look and busted into laughter.
I stood, shocked. I didn’t know what to make of this. This kind of reaction hadn’t been one I was prepared for at all.
“Why are you laughing?” I was truly confused.
My mom was the first to sober. “Oh honey. I didn’t know what I wanted to do either. I finally decided I wanted to pursue songwriting after a lot of thought. I was a bit younger than you when I finally figured it out, but that’s okay.” She stood and took two steps towards me, clasping my hands in hers. “You jumped headfirst into college, like you do most things, and your dad and I talked about how we thought it might not have been the best idea. We want you to do whatever it is that makes you happy. Take time. Live your life. Everything will fall into place and when it does trust your gut and you can’t go wrong.” Patting my cheek she said, “You’re going to do great things baby girl. Of that I’m sure.”
She pulled me into her arms for another hug.
My dad stood then too. “People are wrong when they say you have to figure it all out by the time you’re eighteen. It’s just not true. Everyone grows at a different pace. Go get a job at a cupcake shop. Climb a mountain. Dye your hair. I don’t care as long as you stay true to yourself.” Grinning, he added, “Seriously, get a job though.”
I laughed and reached to hug him.
“Deal,” I said, my voice muffled against his shirt.
I released him and looked at each of my parents. “I love you guys. So much. I hope you know that.”
“We know,” my mom replied with a kind smile.
I started for the door when my dad said, “And Willow?”
“Yeah?” I paused, looking back at them.
“That job thing? Please don’t try to be a rebel and get a job being a stripper. I’ll force you into a wimple.”
I threw my head back and laughed. “No promises, dad,” I joked and ran for the stairs while he grumbled behind me.
It had grown dark outside and I knew I should shower and go to bed, but I couldn’t yet.
I needed to see Dean.
I grabbed my keys from my desk and hurried back downstairs—running smack dab into my dad.
I bounced off his chest and he reached out to steady me. “Where are you going?”
“To Dean’s.”
He stared at me sternly.
“I thought we were passed this,” I told him.
He sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Okay. Right. Fine. Go. Just…yeah. Bye.”
I laughed at his awkwardness and stood to kiss his cheek.
“Love you dad…and for the record you’re not in second place as my hero. You’re tied for first.”
He beamed at this and I was glad my words made him happy.
I darted out the door before he could change his mind and drag me inside.
It was well after ten, but I doubted Dean would be asleep.
It only took me around fifteen minutes to pull into the lot of the mechanic shop his apartment was above.
I killed the headlights and turned the car off.
I ran up the steps—making far more noise than I should have—and pounded the side of my fist against the door.
It swung open only seconds later and Dean stood there shirtless in only a pair of long pajama pants with some sort of Pokémon on it.
His hair was ruffled, not like he’d been sleeping, but as if he’d been constantly running his fingers through it.
He grinned broadly and gasped my name. “Willow.”
I dove at him, kissing him like I hadn’t seen him in years when in reality it had only been hours.
We stumbled inside and somehow he managed to close the door.
We fell to the couch and then promptly to the floor because we were far from graceful.
Dean laughed when we hit the floor and I rolled over so that we lay side by side.
“We always make a mess of things, don’t we?” His chest rose and fell with his continued laughter.
“I like our mess.”
He smiled over at me. “Me too.”
I turned to look at him. “My parents are cool with me not going back to college and taking time to figure things out as long as I get a job.”
His smile widened. “I knew they would be.”
I glanced around his apartment—and let me tell you it looked vastly different when you were lying on the floor—and shook my head in awe.
“Dean?” I began.
“Yes, Willow?” He chuckled.
“Do you realize that a month ago we stood in this kitchen and you said to me, ‘Why don’t we go on a road trip?’ ”
“It feels like forever ago,” he admitted, reaching over and twining our fingers together.
I felt calm steal over my body at his touch.
Three weeks ago I hadn’t fallen in love with Dean Went
worth.
And I didn’t just fall in love with him. I soared.
“You know what else I realized?” I whispered into the darkened room save for the small white glow from a lamp on the table.
“What’s that?” He asked, rubbing his thumb over my fingers where our hands were joined. His green eyes were soft, looking at me with such love.
“I thought the road was leading to adventure. To finding myself. But I was wrong.” I reached over with my free hand and caressed his stubbled cheek. “The road was leading to us.”
He grasped the side of my face, drawing me forward so he could press his lips ever so slightly against mine.
We both turned to look up at the ceiling then.
Hands clasped.
Hearts full.
“Goodnight, Dean,” I whispered with a smile.
His answer echoed through the room. “G’night, Willow.”
THE END
To see where life takes Dean & Willow, be sure to pick up Liam's story, The Lies That Define Us, in early 2016!
I know, I know. THE END?! What?! No Epilogue? I know there are still a lot of unanswered questions about Dean and Willow. What will Willow do with her life? Will they move in? Get married? Have babies? *gasp* But you see, there will be a lot more books in the series. Most will feature heavy cross over, which means you will be seeing a lot more of this couple and their life journey. It wouldn’t be right for me to lay it all out here in an Epilogue because they haven’t LIVED it yet, if that makes sense. I promise things will fall into place and you will get your answers in the books that follow. What’s the next book? That would be The Lies That Define Us and you’ve probably already guessed that it’s Liam’s book and you’re right. I’m so excited to delve more into his character since everything you read with him went totally the opposite way of what I originally thought. But characters…well, they tend to take over and tell me what I think is wrong, so I’m thrilled to let him guide me on his journey. Something tells me it will be a lot grittier than The Road That Leads To Us, but I’m ready and I hope you guys are too.
I can’t thank my beta readers enough for helping with this one. Haley, I love your enthusiasm about my books and how excited you get about the story. You definitely make me eager to write the next chapter. Stefanie, I welcome your blunt honesty and how you question where I’m taking something and I love that you trust me when I say, “Wait and see.” Raquel, your help with this book has been invaluable. Thank you doesn’t seem to cover what I feel.
Emily! You’ve always been my biggest cheerleader and I’m so happy that you’ve been a big part in the creation of this book. I love you, Emmers!
As always Regina Bartley deserves a big round of applause. Without you this book might still be incomplete with all the doubts that plagued me. Thank you for reminding me that this is Dean and Willow’s story and while it’s not drama-filled it’s theirs.
Regina Wamba thank you for creating the most beautiful cover I’ve ever seen. (Even if I doubted it at first). It’s exactly what I wanted for this story and your talent never ceases to amaze me.
Yuli, thank you for all your help with the photo shoot. This one had a lot of props, and scenes to portray, not to mention wardrobe, and you definitely succeeded in helping Regina bring my book to life.
Daniel and Leeann, thank you for bringing Dean and Willow to life. I can’t help but smile when I look at the photos.
Wendi (aka the greatest formatter evvva) you became my formatter by accident, but now you’re stuck with me forever. Muahahaha!
Thank you to all the wonderful ladies in my fan group (Micalea’s Minions). I’m honored to “know” so many of you. Your enthusiasm about my books blows my mind and I love you all so much.
And thank YOU. For reading this. For buying my books. For being a part of my life. It’s all thanks to you.
TRUE LOVE
A Songbird Novel
Melissa Pearl
TRUE LOVE
One night can change everything…
Nessa Sloan has been in love with Jimmy Baker since the ninth grade when they started up a rock band together. Five years later they’re about to hit the big time—Chaos wins a recording contract and nation-wide tour with Torrence Records. After their celebration party, the two best friends have a one-night stand that will tear their relationship apart.
On the run from Jimmy’s rejection, Nessa takes off on her motorbike, but an accident brings her escape to a tragic end. Now trapped in a broken body, Nessa has to face a future stripped of the one thing that’s gotten her through every past challenge—playing the drums.
Jimmy never meant to break his best friend’s heart, and he will forever regret taking her to bed then treating her like one of his groupies. But once he’d crossed that line, he couldn’t go back. Now Jimmy is on a mission to do something he’s never done before—win a girl over.
Angry and confused by her new disability, Nessa doesn’t want Jimmy’s help. But she has nobody else to rely on…and his pigheaded ass won’t leave her alone. Can these two stubborn hearts get past their own insecurities to figure out what true love really looks like? Or will they drive each other crazy before they finally see the truth?
It’s infuriating, irresistible, and all-consuming…it’s true love.
Chapter One
Nessa
It’s so easy to look back on your life and wonder, “What if?”
What if he’d never heard me playing the drums in the music suite that day? What if we hadn’t won Shock Wave and scored a deal with Torrence Records?
What if I’d never let him kiss me?
The motorcycle rumbled beneath me, sending vibrations shooting down my legs as I sat at the empty crossroads in the middle of America and wondered.
It was an overcast day, but the sun was burning off the clouds and it would soon heat up. I was in no hurry for that to happen; the morning air was cool and refreshing as a light breeze ruffled tendrils of dark hair across my leather jacket. The road was a silent, black snake winding through the countryside, and I was a lone rider trying to decide which way to turn. After an early morning shower, the asphalt was slick, and the first rays of sun were creating an eerie steam on the surface. I stared at it until the wisps of steam turned into a fuzzy mirage.
I had to make a choice.
Gripping the handlebars, I held my breath as I considered each option.
Left meant returning to Jimmy—the leader of our band, Chaos, and the guy who broke my heart.
Right meant…well, I wasn’t sure what right meant. I couldn’t return to my childhood home in Mississippi and Chicago without Rosie or Chaos held no appeal.
“Unkiss Me” by Maroon 5 swirled in my brain. The song had been torturing me non-stop since the day I threw my drumsticks at Jimmy and split.
If only he could un-kiss me.
If only we could take back what we’d done, but the past was sealed and no amount of wishing would change that. I’d been playing out of my league the whole time…I should have known I’d lose. Guys like Jimmy Baker didn’t fall for girls like me.
I looked left, my heart tugging me back to my boys, the only family I still had, but I couldn’t. The idea of facing Jimmy was too much.
Images of his gorgeous face warping and turning to ash danced in the front of my mind, like some morbid horror movie I couldn’t get away from. I’d sat in a bar last night, in the sleepy little town of Payton, and I don’t know what possessed me, but the bartender and I burned photos of the people who’d broken us. Jimmy’s straight nose and bright blue eyes bubbled and twisted, his pouty lips that tasted so damn good started to split and melt away…just like I needed them to. I thought it would help me, but I’d been fighting tears ever since.
I stared down the long empty road. If I turned that way, I’d be heading back to the life I’d been wanting for years, except it had been tainted.
Gunning the engine, I released the clutch and turned right. Guilt singed me as I rode through the early mo
rning light, further away from my responsibilities. I’d signed a contract a few weeks ago, promising Torrence Records that I’d play the drums for Chaos, record an album, and then tour the country. But after what went down, I had to get away. I’d been on my Triumph Speedmaster for nearly two weeks, cruising the highways and backroads of the magnificent USA. It was an escape ploy, and I’d have to face up to my commitments eventually, but a few more days away wouldn’t hurt anybody.
Rosie always used to say that time healed most things, and I only needed a little more.
At least that’s what I told myself as I jerked off the main road and headed down a quiet, winding route that looked untouched. I was cruising the edge of hill, a wide open plain to my right and a steep, grassy embankment rising on my left. I glanced across the lane and smiled at the random, gray rocks jutting out from the hill. It was like God had been playing marbles with the angels and they’d forgotten to pack away their toys. The thought made me chuckle.
I opened up the throttle a little more, enjoying the roar of the Triumph Speedmaster’s engine. The second I laid eyes on the charcoal bike, I’d had to make it mine. I’d pictured myself cruising the roads, the scenery flashing past me as I lost myself in the rush. It was the first thing I purchased with my grandmother’s inheritance money. The lawyer lets me have it in small bursts, like a yearly allowance. My grandma knew me all too well. She’d set everything up just they way I needed it to be.
That deep sadness I pretended didn’t linger in the pit of my belly swirled up my throat, making it hard to swallow. I pressed my lips together and blinked, slapping down the visor on my helmet before accelerating up the hill.
I crested the rise at speed and my stomach lurched as I grappled the brakes. A pickup truck lay upside down, angling across both lanes and leaving me nowhere to go. I glimpsed the unconscious driver with his blood-smattered face, dangling upside down in his seat, but had no time to do anything about it. The slick road protested against the sudden jerk of my squealing tires, and I slammed into the driver’s door. The impact sent me flying, the weightless sensation coming to a bitter end as I circled over the truck and smashed into the implacable asphalt. I landed on my back, a loud pop echoing in my head as my helmet struck the ground. I whimpered and fought for air, my body protesting against the pain.
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