Page 141 of Pink and Country

I thought I already loathed Savannah, yet my hatred toward her worsened. My jaw flexed, and I exhaled through my nose.

June’s brows furrowed. “Stop. No more phone tossing.” I sighed. Even through a phone screen, she missed nothing.

“I won’t. I’m just tempted. Please, get her to shut her mouth.” Savannah Prince would have to retract. I wouldn’t let her bully her way into my life anymore. “Enough with all this circus. I’m sure she’s the mole.”

June’s eyes lit up. “We all are. I’ll see what I can do.” We hung up, and I buried my head in my hands, my elbows propped on my knees. Once the storm in me lessened, I grabbed my phone and punched a number.

“Hey, it’s me. We need to talk. Call me back later tonight. There’s something I want to run by you.” A pause. “Sure. Talk to you later, man.” I hung up and punched a second number. “Hey, man. I’m calling about your offer. Can we talk tomorrow? I might need your help.” A long pause. “Perfect.”

For the first time in a week, my heart didn’t seem so dark. A shred of hope grew inside me.

I jumped to my feet, ready to put my plan to work.

34

April

I unlocked the door of my apartment. It suffocated me. Did it shrink? It’d been twelve days since I broke things off with Carter and came back here, shattered in more pieces than I could ever count. Since returning, I’d been feeling like a stranger in my own home. Every minute of each day I missed Carter’s presence, his scent, his laugher. My life lost all colors when I drove away from Green Mountain.

I wanted to disappear. To hide. To stay away from the eye of the tornado. Yet, it felt wrong.

As much as I loved Carter, I wasn’t cut out to live in the shadow of his fame. Where it was ugly and dark. It ruined me after only a few weeks. How bad would it have been after years? No amount of pure, raw, once-in-a-lifetime kind of love could fix what I went through. For the rest of my life, there’d be articles about me on the web. Lies waiting to be uncovered.

I ran to the bathroom and made it just in time to relieve my heaving stomach. I’d been doing that for the last two days. Tears welled in my eyes. I slid behind until my back pressed against the wall, folded my legs, and buried my head between my knees, my breathing ragged as air passed through my gruff throat.

When I turned my back on Carter, I thought I’d die. Now I survived on the last piece of my heart beating in my chest. I clung to it with all the strength I had left.

A soft knock on the door startled me. “April, do you need help?”

“I’ll be out in a second, Taylor. Thanks for checking up on me.” Talking hurt the scorched lining of my throat. With my hands, I pushed myself from the floor to stand in front of the mirror and splashed cold water over my face. “I’m a mess,” I said to myself while looking at my reflection. The image of someone I didn’t recognize. Swollen lips. Bloodshot eyes. White complexion. Reddened nose tip. I brushed my greasy hair back with my fingers and tied them in some sort of half-knot. There. Better. I wanted to give myself a pep talk, but when I parted my lips, nothing came out. I sighed, my hands clutching the sink. Tomorrow will be better.

Two hours later, Saunders came over, her hands filled with cupcakes, tacos, and wine.

“That’s why we’re best friends,” I said as I let her in.

“I thought it was because in junior year I flashed my boobs at a bouncer so he’d let us in at the Wet Shirt concert.” She cocked an eyebrow.

I nudged her on the side, and my lips curled.

I remembered that night. I was wearing a too-short, metallic-blue mini-skirt and four-inch heels. Wet Shirt had been Travis’s favorite band, and they were playing in a bar a four-hour drive away. We’d never have made it inside. The line-up was half a mile long. Saunders flashed the bouncer, and we got in. I might have told her that night she earned her best friend title for life.

“You’re smiling, Bubble Head,” Saunders observed with a grin.

After I came back home, my best friend slept over the first three nights because I was unable to take care of myself without breaking down. I had nightmares in the darkness and woke up crying. I missed Carter. I needed him.

He made my life better.

He knew how to calm me down. How to comfort me the exact way I needed.

He knew how to patch my broken heart or make me laugh.

I missed every single thing about him. Even the way he snored when super tired.

We hadn’t talked since the day I left.

He contacted Taylor once or twice a day—Taylor confided in me one night after I asked him for the truth.

Taylor asked me countless times what could heal my broken heart?