Page 131 of Pink and Country

Carter

A n incessant buzzing woke me up. I cracked my eyes open, and without lifting my head from the pillow, I scanned the room. How early was it? The room sank in darkness. I rubbed the heels of my hands over my heavy eyelids, trying to chase away my grogginess. Buzz. Buzz. I cocked my head to the side. Beside me, April was deep asleep, oblivious to the sound that shook me out of my slumber. Buzz. Buzz. I cursed under my breath. Can someone shut this off? The buzzing stopped. Finally. I flipped on my side, wrapped my arm around my girl, and drifted back to sleep in seconds.

Buzz. Buzz. Buzz. Buzzzzzzz.

I tensed. Must be an emergency. Damn it.

In the dark, I stretched my arm until my hand found the nightstand and searched for my phone. Not there. I wrinkled my face. Where was it? Images of last night flashed in my mind. A sly smirk tugged at my lips.

Buzz. Buzz. Buzz.

Buried under the comforter, I writhed to the edge of the mattress and bent over. My hand swept the hardwood floor until my fingers met yesterday’s denims. I shook the piece of clothing until my phone landed on the floor with a soft thud. I grimaced, the lit screen blinding me.

I cleared my throat, ready to bark at anyone disturbing our peaceful sleep.

My hands rubbed over my face, waking myself up a little more.

June? I struggled with my hand-eye coordination when I tapped the screen to accept the call and ended up missing it. My eyes flared. I’d missed twelve calls?

What the fuck?

I scrolled through the missed-call log and saw they were all from either Ry or June.

What happened this time?

I scratched the side of my head. Nothing. I’d kept a low profile and stayed under the radar in the last two months. Well, mostly.

Last night, April and I went to a bar on the outskirts of town with Dahlia and Nick. Could it be about this? No. The lighting was shitty, and we sat in a dark corner booth, out of the patrons’ sight. I doubted I caught anybody’s attention.

“‘Someday You’ll Fly’ is about Jack, isn’t it?” April had asked on our drive back home, her small fingers laced through mine. She had her hair knotted in a half-updo at the top of her head, and wore a knitted black sweater dress, hugging all her curves, with her cowboy boots. April looked hot. The server failed to keep his eyes off her all night.

Heat filled my stomach, and I eyed her sideways before nodding. “Everyone assumed I wrote this song about a girl. How did you figure it out?”

“I don’t know.” She shrugged, her gaze fixed on the road before us. “Sure, it makes an incredible love song, but there’s something about it that’s raw. It expresses the kind of love, I assume, people only experience with their children. Something unique. Children see life through a different lens, and it’s precious. It sucks we lose it growing up. Your words, those are the things I’d say to my child. It’s beautiful.”

How could April get me without me having to explain anything? How could she see beyond the lyrics?

Maybe it was the fact she’s an author herself and understood the magic of words.

Or perhaps she got me. Plain and simple.

April connected with my soul like nobody else ever did.

I should figure out her pen name and read one of her books. It was about time I immersed myself into her world too.

Buzz. Buzz. Oh, yeah, my stupid phone.

The knuckle of my thumb rubbed my forehead, a million thoughts swimming inside my head.

The gears in my mind shifted as I accepted the call.

“Damn, Carter, I thought I’d have to drive all the way to the mountains to wake up your naked butt myself.” June’s tone startled me. She never yelled at me at five in the morning.

“Whoa, back off for a sec, would you? Wait, I’ll go downstairs,” I whispered, eyeing April to make sure she was still asleep.

After sliding my legs in a pair of sweatpants I grabbed from a drawer, I tiptoed out of my bedroom, angst creeping along my spinal cord.

Like a ninja on a mission, I reached the first floor without a sound.