Chapter 17 Melanie
MELANIE
I’m warm and content as the sun streams through the small window in my bedroom.
The air conditioner is blasting, but I’m not cold because I’m wrapped in Josh’s embrace, our legs intertwined, his feet on mine, keeping them warm.
It’s been three nights of us sleeping together like this, and despite the feeling of his hard body against mine each morning, neither of us has made a move.
I desperately want to, but I can’t help but think if he wanted more than this, he’d go after it.
His cellphone alarm beeps and buzzes from the nightstand, startling him awake. I’m already awake, but I keep my eyes closed anyway. Josh reaches to turn it off and then his arm finds my hip again.
“Time to get up,” he murmurs into my neck. His hot breath sends a jolt straight between my thighs. He kisses my neck, and his light stubble dragging across my skin has desire pooling in my belly.
I turn over to face him, letting my fingers trace his jawline. “I hate waking up early,” I whisper. “But I love waking up with you.”
Josh kisses me then, pulling me close enough that I can feel his desire.
It’s a relief to know I’m not the only one feeling these things.
I never thought I’d see Josh again, let alone have a second chance.
He deepens the kiss, tangling his fingers in my hair, his teeth clicking against mine.
Hungry. That’s the best way to describe it.
I let out a soft moan, and he echoes it with his own.
“I want you,” I say softly into his mouth. Relief at having admitted it flows through me.
Josh pulls back, meeting my gaze. He brushes hair off my forehead. “I want you too,” he admits. “But we’re due at the radio station in an hour and…I’d like to take my time with you.” His voice is thick with yearning.
I groan. “Okay. That’s fair,” I say, moving away from him.
He tugs me right back. “Hey,” he says, tracing his calloused thumb over my lower lip.
“I do want you. Waking up with you the past few days has meant more to me than…” Silence hangs in the air for a moment as he struggles to find words.
“I just—never thought we’d get a second chance. I don’t want to screw this up.”
“Me neither,” I say, placing my hands on his face and pulling him to me. “And it’s meant so much to me too.”
“Good.” Josh pushes up, throwing the covers off him. “Let’s get this show on the road.”
We take turns showering—seeing Josh walking around my condo in a towel, his broad shoulders still glistening with water, does something to me.
It’s not only that I want him—I do—but it’s also that I want him here, with me.
He fits. We move around each other naturally, getting ready for our day together.
While I blow-dry my hair, he fixes my coffee and sets it on my dresser.
He packs up our guitars, fills up my water bottle, and he’s waiting patiently for me when I come out ready to go.
I drive us to the Lite Rock studio and Josh holds my hand the entire time. I keep stealing glances at him, but he appears lost in thought and I’m too jittery to make conversation.
“Are you okay?” His voice catches me off guard. “Nervous?”
“A little,” I admit. “I’m sure this is nothing for you, but it’s not every day I go on a radio show.” I smile in spite of myself.
“Admittedly, I haven’t done any interviews in a long time.” Josh pauses. “I’ve been trying to lay low.”
I give him a sideways glance, arching a brow. “Any particular reason why?”
Josh hesitates, his lips pushed into a line, his brow furrowed as if he’s deciding how to answer. “Things in Nashville weren’t great when I left. I felt like all eyes were on me and not in a good way.”
I pull into a parking spot before I answer him. Unbuckling my seatbelt, I turn to him, tilting my head. “Care to elaborate?”
Josh‘s shoulders stiffen, and he crosses his arms, as if closing himself off. “Not really, to be honest.” My face must betray me because he adds, “Not yet anyway.”
His response feels callous and out of character, but I don’t have time to push him. We’re due inside in three minutes.
“We have to go in,” I say, gathering my things. I don’t meet his eyes.
“Mel, I’ll fill you in, someday,” Josh says, grasping my forearm to stop me from frantically walking away. “Before we go on a radio show is not the time though.”
“Fine.” I sigh. “You don’t owe me anything, Josh.” I open my car door and climb out, opening the rear door to grab my guitar.
Josh doesn’t respond, and it’s clear to me that it’s because he doesn’t want to get into whatever he’s got going on before we walk into this interview. But I can’t help but want to press him. Unfortunately, after the interview, I have to work the day shift. Josh and I will have to talk tonight.
Jim’s assistant, Andrea, greets us as we walk in.
The morning show is already underway—it starts at six a.m.—so Andrea leads us to a small waiting area where we’ll wait to be introduced.
She brings us both a bottle of Fiji water and a hot cup of coffee.
Josh and I sit side-by-side on a small loveseat.
His thigh grazes mine, and it’s taking everything in me not to put my hand on his leg.
I must be jittery because a moment later, his hand finds my leg.
His warm palm cups my kneecap, and he traces circles around it with his thumb.
“It’s going to be fine,” Josh whispers, leaning close to me. I can feel the tickle of his breath on my neck. It’s minty and I fight the urge to grab his face and devour it. Josh sets me at ease, even when he’s not trying. “They even sprung for the good water.” His lips twitch.
“Josh, Melanie! Thanks for coming.” We’re interrupted by Jim Jones himself, grinning at us from the doorway.
We stand and shake his hand, exchanging pleasantries.
“We’re on a fifteen-minute music break, so let’s bring you in and get you mic’d and ready.” Jim gestures toward Andrea, who is holding the studio door open for us. “After you.”
Ten minutes later, we’re settled in the soundproof studio in comfortable chairs around the mixing board.
We’re wearing microphones and headsets, and Jim is just about to bring the show back from a commercial break.
Despite Josh briefly prepping me on the ride over, my heart is racing, and my palms are sweating.
How did I get here? What am I even doing?
Who do I think I am? I’m nobody. At least Josh is someone—he’s made something of himself.
I have no business being here right now.
Josh glances over at me. “You okay?” His voice is barely audible. Then he leans closer. “You look a little green.”
I swallow the knot in my tight throat and nod.
My palms are already sweating, and he’s grinning at Jim with maddening ease.
Josh watches me carefully, but he’s relaxed, drumming a lazy rhythm against his knee.
Typical man. If I speak, I fear I may bail, and he’s cool as a cucumber.
I don’t have time to say anything anyway because we’re on in three… two…one.
“Welcome back to the Lite Rock morning show. This is Jim Jones! I’m here with the one and only country music sensation, Josh Cote! Welcome, Josh.” I glance nervously at Josh who is grinning. If he’s nervous at all, he doesn’t show it. He’s probably used to this.
“And Josh brought with him his friend and fellow musician, Melanie Glick. Melanie is a South Jersey local, and she’s here because she and Josh are working on something very special. Isn’t that right? Welcome, Melanie.” My stomach twists as I adjust my headphones.
“Thanks for having us, Jim,” Josh says, leaning into his mic.
“Yes, thank you,” I echo, a blush creeping into my cheeks. “So happy to be here.” That couldn’t be further from the truth.
“Why don’t we start by you two telling us a bit about how you met,” Jim suggests.
I lock eyes with Josh and he chuckles. “Well, Jim, Melanie and I go way back. We’ve been friends since we were kids, but we were closest in high school.”
“Wow. High school. Okay Josh, I didn’t realize you were from around here,” Jim admits. Then he turns to me. “I bet you loved this guy in high school, Melanie.” His tone is teasing.
My neck tingles and my throat goes dry. Heat blooms across my chest like a sunburn. I can’t meet Josh’s eyes—not with Jim watching like he’s just thrown a grenade between us. “Uh…yeah. He’s hard not to love.” I swallow the lump in my throat.
“So, are you two an item?” Jim asks. The way he looks at me gives me the creeps.
“Oh…no. We’re just old friends,” I mutter loosely crossing my arms. I glance at Josh whose face remains impassive.
“Gotcha, so how did you reconnect?” Jim asks, this time looking at Josh.
Josh stifles a cough, rubbing the back of his neck like the words got caught in his throat.
“I came up here looking for inspiration. I haven’t been here in nearly twenty-five years.
I’m not sure if you know this, Jim, but my older sister Cara was killed in a car accident her senior year of high school.
My family moved shortly after.” Josh pauses, and it looks to me like he needs a minute.
When he speaks again, his voice wavers. “I am sure you heard, I broke up with my band—or rather, they broke up with me, I guess. So, I set out to write a solo acoustic album. But I needed inspiration and a change of scenery, so I thought, what better to do than come home?” Josh glances my way and offers me a smile. The tips of his ears are pink.
“I did hear about the breakup, Josh. I’m sorry about that,” Jim offers. “And about your recent split from Kiera Muller too.”
When I look at Josh, he looks uncomfortable, but he leans into his mic and says, “Hey, everything happens for a reason, Jim, am I right?”
“You are.” Jim nods. “So, tell us how you reconnected with Melanie.”
“She was working at The Ugly Mug when I walked in,” Josh says. “I knew it was her immediately.” This time, Josh looks directly at me, and my heart lurches into my throat.
“Melanie, did you know it was Josh?” Jim asks.
I clear my throat. “I did.” I meet Josh’s gaze. “We reconnected like no time had passed.”
“When I was at The Ugly Mug, I had the pleasure of hearing you two play a cover song together. Have you always played music together?” Jim directs the question at me, but Josh answers.
“Not in twenty-five years.” He huffs a laugh. “But we did, yeah. We started writing music together when we were just teenagers.”
“Teenagers, wow.” He quirks his eyebrows at us. My stomach twists, and feelings of unease rumble in my gut.
Josh laughs easily. “You know, crazy teens and their love songs.”
Jim’s eyes light up at this, his curiosity piqued. “And were you in love when you wrote songs together?”
The question comes point-blank. Before I can stop myself, I’m answering at the same time as Josh.
“Oh, I don’t know. No. Jim, like we said, we were teenagers.” I give a casual wave of my hand.
“I’ve always loved Melanie.”
Josh’s words overpower mine.
Suddenly, the air is too thick. I’m uncomfortable. Josh’s words hit me like a dropped chord reverberating long after the sound is gone.
Jim thinks this is hilarious, and Josh and I look at each other, having no choice but to laugh with him. What else can we do? But something inside me clenches, and I’m unsure if it’s from shock or something deeper.
“Sounds like you two need to talk.” Jim lets out another nervous chuckle, but Josh and I only look at each other. Questions swirl in my mind—he’s always loved me?
It feels like hours before anyone speaks again though I’m sure it’s only a matter of seconds since we’re live on the air.
“Would you play one of your own for us now?” Jim asks, perhaps sensing the awkwardness.
“Our own…Mel?” Josh looks to me for approval. “‘Every Song’?”
“Uh, sure. Okay.” I nod, swallowing hard. We’ve only played it in the safety of my
apartment. Now suddenly, we’re going to play it live on the radio. Josh picks up his guitar and begins strumming the intro.
The first verse has always been mine, so I suck in a breath and will my heart to stop racing. My first notes are shaky but by the time I get to the third line, I’ve found my voice, the soft melody coming out stronger.
We swore forever in the back of your car,
Snuck out to the beach, counting every star.
Didn’t know then, but we had it all,
First love’s a promise, you won’t think you’ll fall.
We were just kids, didn’t know what love was,
Late-night talks and scribbled hearts on our books.
Laughed too loud, got on everybody’s nerves,
Didn’t need much, just the two of us.
You’re my favorite line in every song,
You’re the reason I go on.
Don’t call it a summer fling,
Cause you gave me a paper ring.
Your name’s still there on my old notebook page.
Fingers strum in the summer breeze
Wonder if you still think of me
Faded ink, but I still see your face.
They said we were young,
But our love lives on in every song.
We sang our hearts out in the back of your car,
Reckless teens, counting dreams like they’d take us far.
Didn’t know then how fast things change,
But first love memories never really fade.
You’re my favorite line in every song,
You’re the reason I go on.
Don’t call it a summer fling,
Cause you gave me a paper ring.
Your name’s still there on my old notebook page.
Fingers strum in the summer breeze
Wonder if you still think of me
Faded ink, but I still see your face.
They said we were young,
But our love lives on in every song.
I have no idea how I get through it. I play the chords with muscle memory, feeling the notes run through my veins, while my brain spins in a fog.
The vibration of the guitar presses against my ribs, each note pulsing through me.
Josh’s voice weaves through mine like we never stopped making music together—safe and familiar, brand new and exciting all at once.
It’s as if the music can explain everything we can’t.
The interview ends with Jim plugging the Labor Day weekend concert, and we wrap things up with a commercial break.
“That was great, guys. Thank you,” Jim says with an infectious grin once we’re off air.
I want to be happy, but I am stunned. I rip my headset off and leave it on the table, unable to catch my breath. The back of my neck is sweating, and my breathing feels erratic.
I suck in a breath through my nose, and my chest tightens, my lungs unable to fill completely.
“Thank you, Jim.” I rise to shake his hand, picking up my guitar bag.
“I’m really sorry but I have to get some air.
” I excuse myself and bolt from the studio, bursting through the doors like I’ve been underwater for too long.
Behind me, I hear Jim telling Josh how hot it gets in there.
But the only thing echoing in my brain is Josh’s words: I’ve always loved Melanie.