Page 72 of Pink and Country

“He’s a wanker. Anyway, I’m coming to Green Mountain on Friday night. I’ll assess the situation with my own eyes. Your life’s so entertaining.”

“You’re coming? For real?”

“Yep. Oh, crap. Can we talk later? I have an important call coming in. I’ll text you. Bye.” My best friend hung up before I could add another word.

I danced in place. Saunders would be here. On Friday. I squealed, unable to contain my joy.

My cabin’s lock should be fixed by then, and I’d be out of Carter’s way. A girls’ weekend was everything I needed.

After lunch, Jill, my agent, called me back, and we went over the first half of my manuscript to discuss my work. Over the years, Jill and I had become friends. We chatted for a bit and brainstormed ideas. Once we hung up, I got back to work and rewrote some pages like we discussed and sent her two more chapters. With a mug of hot chocolate, I settled in the den, my fingers unstoppable on the keyboard. HN wouldn’t mess with my brain. I wouldn’t let him. If he chose to leave, vanish, or ignore me, that was on him. I poured all my restlessness into my work. April Simmons, the author, was in full creative mode. Finally. A wide smile spread on my face. I hadn’t felt this hopeful about writing in a long time.

Orange stripes filled the sky as the sun settled down for the night. Done for the day, I found myself alone in this too-big-for-one-human-being cabin, and knots tied my stomach. I put music on, songs I knew the lyrics to by heart, to keep my mind busy, and cleaned up the place, hoping Carter would come back tonight. Somehow, I missed him and the way he stared at me with lust. I missed the bantering, the nights by the fireplace sharing pieces of our past, his meatless cooking, and how he cared about my opinion whatever the subject. And I even missed him complaining about my music choices.

My phone chimed on the kitchen counter.

June: April, any news from Carter?

I wrinkled my nose. What should I tell her? The truth sounded better than a blatant lie. I sighed, trying to put to sleep the flock of hyperactive butterflies in my belly.

Me: Not since late last night. Still not home. Sorry.

She replied almost instantly.

June: Keep me updated. Please.

Me: I will.

Me: You think he’s all right?

June: I hope so. Sometimes Carter disappears for days. Don’t worry, he’ll come back. It’s his way to unwind when he’s overwhelmed. I’ll text you if I hear from him first.

Me: Okay. I’ll keep you updated too.

June: Thanks, April.

Our weekend in Nashville played back in my head. Where did it all go wrong? Even if June told me not to, Carter’s vanishing act worried me. Was he really that overwhelmed? Did it have something to do with me?

The first stars appeared in the inky sky, and I double-checked the doors to make sure they were all locked, knowing how HN hated the idea of me being in a cabin by myself with no lock. I wouldn’t neglect my security now that I knew why he insisted I move in with him.

The other day, Carter told me stories about crazy fans.

“There was this one guy who bypassed the security, way back when I bought my first house, and ended up naked in my bed. Somehow he knew when I’d be back from tour and wanted to surprise me.” I cupped my hands over my mouth, unsure if I should laugh or scream. “Another time, a guy convinced everyone he was my half-brother and landed a backstage pass, giving him access to places he shouldn’t have been given. He followed me into my dressing room and threatened me with a blade.”

Carter had funny stories too—the girl who got his face tattooed on her chest or the one who wore no panties when she interviewed him on live TV, flashing him her hairy pussy the entire time—but the creepiest ones lingered in my mind longer.

In Music City, we had security shadowing us both days.

Over the weekend, Carter confided about a lot of personal stuff. Why would he open up to me if he wanted nothing to do with me anymore?

What changed between us after we got back to Green Mountain?

All weekend, Carter acted like my boyfriend. He made me feel special.

A headache took roots at the front of my skull. With my eyes closed, I massaged my temples.

Bernice purred, and I leaned forward to lift her up. “Hey girl. Ready to go back home?” She arched her back and mewed. I put her back down, and she disappeared toward Carter’s music studio. “Yeah, just leave me alone too. Nice job, Bern.”

Around midnight, lying in my bed, I felt lonelier than I’d felt in a long time. After Travis’s death, I learned to be on my own. To count only on myself. Since moving in with Carter, I rediscovered the joy of sharing my time with another human being. With a man. Now I realized how much I’d missed it over the years. I loved the company. Sharing meals and talking about anything and everything. Stealing glances and catching smiles. No more insomnia. No more procrastination. With Carter, I was back to being alive.