“Is this one of your new tracks?” I pause, listening closer. “I like it, it sounds different, but still like you guys.”
“It’s the winner from that song-writing contest,” Dex announces happily. “We just made the call. We’re going to be recording it next week for the album.”
Disappointment crashes through me.
The contest. I didn’t win.
“Oh, that’s great,” I force a smile. “It’s a hit for sure.” I gulp back the sting of tears and point vaguely to the kitchen. “I’ll be right back…”
I escape quickly, turning the corner and hurrying into the empty room so I can have a moment alone.
I take a deep breath, trying to ease the hurt. It was a long-shot, I know, and listening to the winning song now, I can see, they made the right call. This sounds like a song by The Reckless – a number one hit for sure. My entry was acoustic and intimate, a whole other mood completely. I had Juliet’s sister in Beachwood Bay, Carina, record my demo for the contest, and her voice was so pretty and sweet. I understand why it didn’t work for the band, but still, the rejection makes my heart ache.
A part of me was hoping I would have good news to tell Ryland when I saw him next. He was the one who made me believe in myself enough to enter at all.
I guess we both were wrong.
There’s a noise behind me. Austin, our guitarist, saunters in, wearing cowboy boots and a worn-out pair of jeans. I quickly wipe away my tears.
“What’s up, kid?” He grins, grabbing a soda from the fridge.
“Nothing much.” I lie. “It’s a great track, you guys must be thrilled.”
He nods. “There were a bunch of good ones. I think I’m going to reach out to one of the runner’s up,” he adds. “There’s this song I can’t get out of my head. I’m thinking maybe it would work for a solo record, it’s more my style than the band’s.”
“Oh?” I turn and grab some fruit from the basket, plucking off a couple of grapes.
“Yeah, it was more a love song, kind of haunting and slow.” Austin hums a couple of bars, but they don’t register until he sings along, his voice pitched low with an easy country drawl. “Now forever’s just the empty space you left behind.”
My heart stops.
My song. He’s singing my song. And he thinks it’s good enough to record, not for the band, but for his own record.
I feel a rush of pride. I never realized until this minute how much I want this: to hear my words on someone else’s lips, to make my own emotion something bigger than myself. I’m so overwhelmed, I can’t even say anything before Austin heads back into the living room, I just lean back against the counter, reeling from the news. He still doesn’t know I’m the one who wrote that song. It’s the biggest secret I’ve ever had.
I want to tell Ryland.
My phone buzzes. I glance down to see the number, and my heart leaps all over again.
“Hello?” I answer eagerly.
“Hey.” The male voice is old and rasping from twenty years chain-smoking. It’s not Ryland, but it’s the next best thing. Gage, the private investigator I hired when all my leads on Ryland and Driskell ran out.
“Well?” I ask, excitement rising. “Is there any news?”
“Yes ma’am,” he drawls. “I’ve found what you’ve been looking for.”
30.
“We are now approaching Tulsa International Airport. Please put your seats in the upright position and stow all bags for landing.”
I grip my armrests and take a deep breath. The businessman in the seat next to me gives me a sharp look. “Are you going to be sick?” he asks, inching away.
I shake my head. It’s not the flight that’s making my stomach twist in knots, it’s what’s waiting for me at the end of our descent. I wonder for the hundredth time if I’m making a mistake, but then the wheels finally hit the ground and I know, I’ll do whatever it takes.
Ryland believed in me. Now it’s my turn to do the same for him.
I didn’t check a bag, so I head straight for the rental counter and lease a car for the day. Gage gave me an address, so I plug it into the GPS and get on the road, heading to a suburb just outside the city.
I wonder what I’ll find there. There’s a chance it won’t be good.
Blake calls to check in as I’m heading down the highway. I hit the hands-free button and accept the call. “I’m here, we landed fine, I’m on my way,” I answer, before he can quiz me.
There’s a pause. “Good,.” he replies. “Let me know if you need anything.”
I soften. “Thank you. It’ll be alright.”
He wanted to come with me—they all did. I wasn’t about to go running off by myself again, I learned that lesson already, so I told my brothers a simple version of the truth: I was going to talk to Ryland, face-to-face. They didn’t like it, but when they realized I wasn’t going to change my mind, they had no choice but to accept it.
“Don’t get your hopes up,” Blake told me gently. “I talked to Brit, she said, he wanted to get out of town. He left, Tegan. Maybe you shouldn’t go chasing after a man who just walked away.”
“Trust me, please.” He didn’t realize, he’d never felt like this before. “One day, you’re going to love someone like this, and then you’ll understand. He’s my future, and I’m not giving him up without a fight.”
“It’s the winner from that song-writing contest,” Dex announces happily. “We just made the call. We’re going to be recording it next week for the album.”
Disappointment crashes through me.
The contest. I didn’t win.
“Oh, that’s great,” I force a smile. “It’s a hit for sure.” I gulp back the sting of tears and point vaguely to the kitchen. “I’ll be right back…”
I escape quickly, turning the corner and hurrying into the empty room so I can have a moment alone.
I take a deep breath, trying to ease the hurt. It was a long-shot, I know, and listening to the winning song now, I can see, they made the right call. This sounds like a song by The Reckless – a number one hit for sure. My entry was acoustic and intimate, a whole other mood completely. I had Juliet’s sister in Beachwood Bay, Carina, record my demo for the contest, and her voice was so pretty and sweet. I understand why it didn’t work for the band, but still, the rejection makes my heart ache.
A part of me was hoping I would have good news to tell Ryland when I saw him next. He was the one who made me believe in myself enough to enter at all.
I guess we both were wrong.
There’s a noise behind me. Austin, our guitarist, saunters in, wearing cowboy boots and a worn-out pair of jeans. I quickly wipe away my tears.
“What’s up, kid?” He grins, grabbing a soda from the fridge.
“Nothing much.” I lie. “It’s a great track, you guys must be thrilled.”
He nods. “There were a bunch of good ones. I think I’m going to reach out to one of the runner’s up,” he adds. “There’s this song I can’t get out of my head. I’m thinking maybe it would work for a solo record, it’s more my style than the band’s.”
“Oh?” I turn and grab some fruit from the basket, plucking off a couple of grapes.
“Yeah, it was more a love song, kind of haunting and slow.” Austin hums a couple of bars, but they don’t register until he sings along, his voice pitched low with an easy country drawl. “Now forever’s just the empty space you left behind.”
My heart stops.
My song. He’s singing my song. And he thinks it’s good enough to record, not for the band, but for his own record.
I feel a rush of pride. I never realized until this minute how much I want this: to hear my words on someone else’s lips, to make my own emotion something bigger than myself. I’m so overwhelmed, I can’t even say anything before Austin heads back into the living room, I just lean back against the counter, reeling from the news. He still doesn’t know I’m the one who wrote that song. It’s the biggest secret I’ve ever had.
I want to tell Ryland.
My phone buzzes. I glance down to see the number, and my heart leaps all over again.
“Hello?” I answer eagerly.
“Hey.” The male voice is old and rasping from twenty years chain-smoking. It’s not Ryland, but it’s the next best thing. Gage, the private investigator I hired when all my leads on Ryland and Driskell ran out.
“Well?” I ask, excitement rising. “Is there any news?”
“Yes ma’am,” he drawls. “I’ve found what you’ve been looking for.”
30.
“We are now approaching Tulsa International Airport. Please put your seats in the upright position and stow all bags for landing.”
I grip my armrests and take a deep breath. The businessman in the seat next to me gives me a sharp look. “Are you going to be sick?” he asks, inching away.
I shake my head. It’s not the flight that’s making my stomach twist in knots, it’s what’s waiting for me at the end of our descent. I wonder for the hundredth time if I’m making a mistake, but then the wheels finally hit the ground and I know, I’ll do whatever it takes.
Ryland believed in me. Now it’s my turn to do the same for him.
I didn’t check a bag, so I head straight for the rental counter and lease a car for the day. Gage gave me an address, so I plug it into the GPS and get on the road, heading to a suburb just outside the city.
I wonder what I’ll find there. There’s a chance it won’t be good.
Blake calls to check in as I’m heading down the highway. I hit the hands-free button and accept the call. “I’m here, we landed fine, I’m on my way,” I answer, before he can quiz me.
There’s a pause. “Good,.” he replies. “Let me know if you need anything.”
I soften. “Thank you. It’ll be alright.”
He wanted to come with me—they all did. I wasn’t about to go running off by myself again, I learned that lesson already, so I told my brothers a simple version of the truth: I was going to talk to Ryland, face-to-face. They didn’t like it, but when they realized I wasn’t going to change my mind, they had no choice but to accept it.
“Don’t get your hopes up,” Blake told me gently. “I talked to Brit, she said, he wanted to get out of town. He left, Tegan. Maybe you shouldn’t go chasing after a man who just walked away.”
“Trust me, please.” He didn’t realize, he’d never felt like this before. “One day, you’re going to love someone like this, and then you’ll understand. He’s my future, and I’m not giving him up without a fight.”
