Page 111 of Pink and Country

A loud shriek resonated from the other side of the door. Was I supposed to run away or stay here?

I took a deep breath in and lifted my knuckles to knock again, but the same woman opened the door before my hand could connect with it, this time offering me a grin.

“Fucking kill me already. Carter Hills is standing on my front porch.” She spoke in a mixed English accent, part American, part European. My eyes flared, and I pinched my lips to avoid smiling, nodding at Taylor who stood a few feet behind her.

I cleared my throat, angst creeping inside me. “Hi, is April here?”

“Where are my manners? Come on in, Mr. Hills.” The woman moved aside to invite me in.

“You can call me Carter,” I offered with a tight-lipped smile. This was awkward.

“I’m Saunders.” She held out a hand for me to shake. “April,” the woman yelled, “there’s someone here to see you.”

Fairy muttered something but stopped in her tracks when her eyes landed on me. She looked more petite than I remembered, her complexion paler, and her pink hair a shade darker.

“Carter— Wait, what are you doing here?” Her eyes lacked their usual glow. My heartbeat doubled its frenzied rhythm.

Did I make a mistake? I closed my eyes, scared that April didn’t share my feelings. Did I overstep by coming here? Why did I believe I was meant for love? When my best friend chose my brother over me and then raised the child that could be mine as his, I should’ve got the message loud and clear. Now I got it. Fucking joke. Fury boiled in my veins. Find a way out, Carter. Save the last bit of pride you have left.

Why did I lower the walls around my heart?

April didn’t miss me.

She was gazing at me as if I’d intruded into her life.

She hadn’t even replied to any of my messages. What did I expect?

I slapped myself mentally, cursing for letting my guard down and thinking this time it would be different. That April Simmons could ever love me, Carter Hills, the man—not the famous country music singer—for who I was.

Her doll-like baby-blue eyes focused on me, her pink-painted lips ajar.

“Aren’t you supposed to be in Portland right now?”

I nodded, my head hanging low, avoiding her gaze. “Yeah—I thought—I’m sorry, this was a mistake. I shouldn’t have come here. This was stupid. I don’t want to bother you. You’re busy. I should’ve called first. I’ll go now.” All the words rushed out of my mouth. My blood froze in my veins.

Slivers of glass tickled the back of my throat.

I was such a fool.

I turned on my heels, ready to bolt out the door.

April gripped my hand, forcing me to pivot on the balls of my feet.

“Carter, don’t go.” Her words sounded more a plea than a demand.

Keeping my emotions buried inside, my eyes darted back at her, beautiful in the purple sweater June got her in Nashville. She kept it. The realization hit me like a ton of bricks. Paired with skinny dark jeans and a black scarf, it wasn’t half-awful as I remembered. April looked stunning. She could wear a paper bag, and I’d still find her irresistible. Love’s a joke.

“Why are you here?” Her low voice made my insides vibrate.

Ed, Taylor, and April’s friend vanished from my field of vision. Nobody else existed beside us.

“You didn’t answer any of my messages. I got worried.”

“My phone must be off. You could’ve called Taylor—”

“I did.” Even Taylor had no idea why April ignored me. She closed the distance between us, and I leaned forward to trace the length of her jaw. My breath caught in my lungs. “God, I’ve missed you.”

My stare lingered on April’s small button nose, her thick lashes coated in black mascara, her heart-shaped mouth, her earlobes I liked to nibble on.