Girl in Love(65)

“I have no idea.” She leaned even closer to him in case Mia was nearby. “Listen, why don’t you just talk to her?”

“Or I could have you pretend to be my girlfriend so I don’t have to face her. We could pretend to be madly in love, because that’d be the adult way to handle it.” He smirked at her. “How’s that sound to you?”

“I’m starting to grasp what an idiot I am, okay?” She shook her head. “Learn from my mistakes. Man up and tell her how you feel.”

“It’s not like I want to propose to her. Jesus, Ryans.”

She smacked him playfully on the shoulder. “I know that, smartass.” She spotted Mia standing by Lily and Trace’s little sister. “Go,” she told him with a shove.

“All right, I’m going. Wish me luck.”

She shot him a quick thumbs up. Once he was out of sight, several fans stopped her for autographs and photos. She posed and smiled and signed for several minutes. It was fun and took her mind off all the other craziness for a while. Until a security team member came and informed her that it was time for the finale.

Her stomach pitched forward before she took a single step. Taking several deep breaths, she did her best to steel herself for whatever was coming.

Once she was on stage, an eruption of cheers nearly deafened her.

Her eyes met Trace’s. He looked as nervous as she felt.

Oh God.

A sinking feeling hit her so hard her legs began to tremble as he helped her sit up on the tailgate on his stage.

She could practically see Noel Davies rubbing his greedy little hands together. If Trace was going to propose to her as some type of media stunt for the label, she was going to vomit on him in front of all these people. And then she was going to tell him to go fuck himself. Surely he knew how hurtful something like that would be.

“What are you doing?” she mouthed silently at him.

He just winked at her. And then he turned to the crowd.

“So, normally we close the show with a song we wrote together. You might’ve heard of it,” Trace said into his mic.

The cheers and whistles rang out for several minutes.

“But I’m a Georgia boy,” he began before he was interrupted by another eruption of screaming and cheering. “So I wanted to sing a new one for y’all if that’s okay.”

When he turned back to her, his entire face was lit up. He looked so different than he’d been looking lately. Young and carefree. Excited.

For a second, she didn’t care if it was just a publicity stunt. She was glad to be a part of something that made him so happy.

Until he started singing.

It wasn’t just the fact that he was literally serenading her in front of thousands of people that shook her to her core. It was the words. Each one of them sliced into her like shards of glass reopening old scars.

There’s a girl from Oklahoma that I can’t get out of my head. Can’t seem to get her back in my arms so I put her in a song instead.

She stared at him as the shock of it all seeped in. What. The. Fuck.

Something was seriously wrong with him. He was clearly missing a vital chip in his brain that alerted him to situations that would cause severe pain to others.

She’s wild like the prairie wind that blows fast across the plains. She’s sweet like the mornin’ sun risin’ slow after a night of rain. And I did everything I could do to push her away.

Kylie fought the stinging pinch of tears and forced her mouth not to turn down. She couldn’t figure out why he would do this. She shook her head, silently begging him to please stop this, even though she knew he couldn’t. Or wouldn’t. But he was too busy singing to notice.

But if ever there was someone ever made for someone, that girl was made for me.

She did her best to block his words out, and when that didn’t work, she tried to pretend she was a random fan and he’d pulled her onto the stage. She told her brain that this song wasn’t about her. That there was no way a man she’d once loved with all her heart would be capable of such malicious torture and public humiliation.

They say I have a wild streak, a fire burning in me. A fightin’ side, too much damn pride. None of them could tame me. Boy they’ve damn sure tried.

She’s water to my fire, a lover to my fighter, and she cuts me down to size. There’s not another one like her. Man I gotta find her. ’Cause if ever there was someone ever made for someone, that girl was made for me.

She refused to meet his eyes as he finished his song. The ringing in her ears was finally drowning him out.

But she did look at the audience, and they were enthralled. Trace might’ve been a heartless bastard, but he was one hell of a performer. She sucked in a deep breath and slammed those cold steel walls over her wounded heart.