She forced a smile and focused on her breathing. This was it. Put up or shut up.
“Hi, y’all! Thanks for coming out tonight. What an amazing organization y’all are supporting just by being here.” Her voice was a little unsteady so she swallowed once more. Once the applause and whistling died down she grinned again. “A Hand Up is truly something special. I was raised by a single parent and I know firsthand the struggles many of them face. So reach deep into your pockets tonight!”
There was laughter and a few more whistles.
“Okay. Here we go.”
The members of Trace’s band began to play. The tingle of the symbols rose goosebumps on her skin. She sucked in a deep breath and sent up a silent plea for the strength to get through this.
I used to believe in make believe. Used to wish on stars. Used to fall asleep at night feeling safe there in your arms. I wanted to believe. That a girl like me…could have everything.
Kylie pulled in more air—hoping additional courage would come with it.
Now I know that life doesn’t always work out like I want it to. I get to go and live my dream but I had to let go of you.
The tempo sped in time with her racing heartbeat. Deep down there’s still one thing, one simple wish I wish could still come true. I wish there were two of me. So one of me could live my dream and the other one could stay right here with you.
Yeah I wish there were two of me. So one of me could lay right here on this old porch swing forever. Where we’d always be together. I wish there were two of me. So I could stay in your arms, chase my dreams and follow my heart. Oh I wish there were two of me.
Thanks to the glaring lights she couldn’t see him. But she could feel him. Could feel a heavy gaze boring into her as she finished her song.
When she was done, she thanked the audience and hopped down from the tailgate. Carefully weaving her way around lights and cords, she made it to the back of the barn. Where she put her hands on her knees and threw up everything she’d eaten in the last week to the soundtrack of Gretchen Gibson singing about second chances.
AFTER SHE’D gone inside and rinsed her mouth out, she smiled and shook hands and posed for pictures and signed autographs while Trace belted out Rock It On My Tailgate. The audience hollered and cheered and sang along as she navigated the path to the car that had brought her here. Once she’d found it, she snuck a lukewarm beer from the cooler in the back seat and looked around for Mia. But she was nowhere in sight.
The really sick part was she didn’t actually want to leave yet. Common sense said she should get as far from this place as she could and never look back. But she wanted to hurt just a little longer, ache a little more for what she’d lost. For a life she’d never have.
She didn’t feel like she’d so much as taken a breath until she made it down to the pond, away from the partygoers. She’d never thought she’d feel this way. Not here. Not in the only place aside from her actual home she’d ever felt safe. Alive. Loved.
She wondered briefly if he’d arranged this on purpose. Having her here. Making her face him and Gretchen since he’d seen her with Steven. But deep down she knew better. He couldn’t have known the label would be so insistent about her coming. And how self-centered was she? This was about his foundation, raising money for his A Hand Up charity. He didn’t give enough of a shit about her to plan such a significant even just to lure her here.
She took a large swallow of her beer. Thank God for Mia.
The thought almost made her laugh out loud. Those were four words she never imagined she’d ever be thinking. Plus, she was drinking and Trace was sober. Now there was some irony. But seeing him fresh out of the shower like that, shirtless, and wet and…damn. She really did not need to go there.
Insects danced on the surface of the pond, rippling the water here and there, contorting the perfect reflection of the moon. Whippoorwills called in the distance, and she closed her eyes. In her mind, the moon became the sun and she could hear the echo of her own squeals as she was tossed into that very same pond.
She could see him coming toward her, looking panicked at first and then smiling when he realized she wasn’t drowning. They’d splashed and laughed and she’d dunked him with all she was worth. They’d made love soon after. Her first time. Jesus. It seemed like it was yesterday and a lifetime ago all at once.
“Tellin’ your troubles to the crickets?”
She jumped at the deep cadence of his voice. For a moment she thought it might have been in her head. But turning, she saw him. Walking slowly down the steep incline toward the pond. She took another long drink from her bottle and steeled herself, slamming the thick walls back over her exposed emotions.