Chapter 15 Tally, 16 Years Old
Rust rides in with dark grey storm clouds at his back, chasing away the last rays of an orange sunset. Ozone thickens the humid air and my heart thunders like his brown horse’s hooves as he waves his cowboy hat at me.
He steers the gelding through the arched gate with the ‘McAllister Ranch’ sign and stops in the yard, dismounting smoothly. I put my guitar on the porch swing, rising to greet him.
He’s tall as all get out, but a little on the thin side because he grew so fast. Still, I know that hidden under those dusty Wrangler’s and the dirty shirt is lean muscle.
We often bathe in the creek in our underwear, each time an opportunity to steal hidden glances.
With the bandana around his neck, he looks like an outlaw from an old Western and I’m not sure my heart can take much more.
We’ve been best friends since his family moved to Redbird Creek four years ago and losing him is the worst thing I can imagine.
That’s why I gotta pretend things haven’t changed between us this summer.
I have to pretend my pulse doesn’t race every time he meets my gaze, pretend his touch doesn’t chase goosebumps over my skin.
I never had a boyfriend. Hell, I haven’t even kissed a guy. I don’t know the first thing about love, but deep down, I know it’s what I feel for him.
First, it was platonic. But with every guitar lesson, with every night camping in the woods behind his house, with every hug and every smile, that love grew.
And suddenly, I wanted to kiss Rust. I wanted him to hold my hand and tell me that he loves me, too.
But what if he doesn’t feel the same way? I can’t risk destroying what we have. Him and Caleb are my only friends, but our friendships couldn’t be more different.
Caleb’s like an annoying younger brother, even though we’re the same age.
Rust is my ride-or-die, the only person I trust with my true self, with my dreams and hopes. He’s the boy I run to when things get tough. The one I can’t live without. Losing him would mean losing a part of myself and I might as well rip the heart from my chest.
A stablehand meets Rust and takes over his horse, but not before Rust digs something from the saddlebag.
My eyes widen. Is that—
Rust sprints up the porch stairs. He stops so close to me, I can smell the scent of earth, grass and musk streaming from him. It’s addictive.
Smiling brightly, he takes off his hat and holds it to his chest, presenting me with a bouquet of wild daisies. A few stems are bent and some petals are crushed, but they’re the most beautiful flowers I’ve ever seen.
“For you, Trouble.”
My breath catches. He’s never given me flowers before.
“You don’t want ‘em?” His lips press together and his gaze drops to his dirty boots. “Sorry, they got a bit smushed during the ride.”
I snatch the bouquet from him. “No, I love them! Thank you. Daisies are my favorite flowers.”
A grin plays on his face. “I know.”
He remembers that tiny fact I told him ages ago?
“Consider the flowers an apology cause I missed our practice session. A cow got herself stuck in the fence and tore the whole section down. She’s alright now, but Dad’s still out there with some ranch hands, fixing the damage.”
I wish I could tell him that I’m not angry he’s late, just madly in love and I have no clue how to handle those tingly feelings making my chest too full and my head spin.
“It’s okay, Rust. I know you gotta help out.”
“Wish I didn’t. I hate it. But let me properly make it up to you.” He pulls a car key from his pocket. “Dad said I could borrow Yolanda for the evening. Let’s get ice cream.”
“But what about the storm?” I glance at the darkening clouds.
“You’re safe with me under these tumultuous Kentucky skies, Trouble.”
“Caleb ain’t coming along?” I ask.
Rust shakes his head and I could jump for joy. “Naw. Just us.”
I grab my guitar, threading the flowers through the strings at the top of the fretboard. “I’d love some ice cream.”
And time alone with you in your daddy’s F150.
Rust takes my hand, his touch sending a jolt of electricity through me. The truck is parked behind the house and he opens the passenger door for me. My belly flip-flops as I drop on the bench seat and put my guitar upright in the footwell.
Ain’t this door opening business what the guys do in romance movies? No, I shouldn’t read into it.
Rust jogs around the truck and jumps in the driver’s seat. He puts the key in the ignition, making the motor rumble to life. I subtly shift closer until our arms brush.
He turns to me, his brown eyes radiating warmth. “Are you scared of the storm?”
I laugh through the ache behind my ribs. “Just very hungry for ice cream.”
The ice cream doesn’t survive the drive to our favorite lookout spot above the town, a mountainside at the border of the McAllister property.
The clouds break open while Rust parks the truck. Heavy rain drums on the roof. It’s so loud I can barely hear Brooks & Dunn on the radio and the curtain of water obscures the view of the creek and the town center beyond.
But I don’t care about the sights. And though I love Brooks & Dunn, I don’t care about the music right now.
I care about the glint in Rust’s eyes as he takes off his hat and leaves it on the dashboard.
He closes the distance between us. When his pinky tangles with mine on the seat, my heart trips. I swear there’s heat in his expression I never noticed before and it makes my face catch fire, too.
“Tally…” He says my name so quietly, I think I imagined it. “There’s something I’ve been meanin’ to talk to you about.”
My mind jumps to the worst-case scenario. “You’re moving away again?” I squeak.
Rust strokes over my frizzy hair. “I ain’t goin’ nowhere. Not until we drive to Nashville in two years.”
Surprise washes through me. We never talked about the silly promise he made the night we met.
“That wasn’t a joke?” I ask in disbelief.
He slings a hand across the back of my neck, his calloused working palm rough against my skin. “Nope. You’re stuck with me. I like it here in Redbird Creek, but if you wanna leave, we’ll leave together.”
A nervous giggle escapes me. He’d leave his family to follow me?
“Then what did you want to talk about?” I ask.
“You know you’re my best friend, right?”
I nod. “And you’re mine.”
A tremble runs through his fingers as they tighten slightly on the nape of my neck. He presses his forehead against mine and his breath skates over my lips.
“You’re the most important person in the world to me, Trouble. Our friendship means everything to me, but I can’t continue to sit by and wait until another guy steals your heart. I can’t let you be my almost.”
Did I fall asleep on the porch swing and this is a dream?
He grasps my chin between two digits. “Damn, I practiced this a hundred times in the mirror but I’m no poet. So I’m just gonna say how I feel.”
Lightning flashes and I think I’m going to faint. Is this really happening?
“I love you,” he says, voice shaking. “To be precise, I’ve loved you since the moment we locked eyes for the first time. Will you go out with me?”
A crack of thunder splits the sky.
“Why did you never say anything?” I ask.
“I didn’t want you to think your friendship wasn’t enough or I had ulterior motives. And I swear if you say no, I won’t hold it against you. I’ll remain your best friend… if you still want me to be.”
Tears spring to my eyes. I laugh, sniffling. “You know what’s funny?”
He shakes his head.
“All summer long, I wondered how I could confess my love without ruining our friendship,” I admit.
His brows rise, confusion in his eyes transforming into understanding. Then into heat. He cages me in his arms and pulls my body against his. My breasts push into his hard, muscular chest.
A shiver passes through me. We’ve hugged before. We’ve even shared a horse on the ranch. But this is different.
I feel like that time I tried a sip of moonshine. Too hot. Burning up from inside. A tug lingers low in my belly and flames run through my veins.
“Is that a yes? You’ll go out with me?” he rumbles.
“Though I should know better than to fall for an outlaw,” I tease breathlessly.
In truth, Rust is the furthest from an outlaw any man has ever been. He’s the sweetest guy.
His eyes flick to my lips. “Do you know better?”
I shake my head.
His lips brush mine, but he hesitates. “Can I kiss you?”
“I’ll strangle you with my guitar strings if you don’t.”
He smirks. “As a warning: you’re my first kiss. I’ll probably suck.”
“I won’t notice cause you’re my first, too.”
“Good. Then I won’t have to rip out the tongues of the guys you kissed before.”
His possessiveness surprises me, but his mouth meets mine before I can ask if he means that part, too.
My first kiss with my best friend jumpstarts every nerve in my body. I close my eyes. Soon, I can’t hear the rain or the radio anymore.
There’s only the rhythm of our bodies. The melody of our breaths and our lips.
Our first kiss fills me with music.
My hands find his chest and his pulse races under my palm. When I open up to him, his tongue tangles clumsily with mine. He tastes like vanilla ice cream.
Rust crushes me to his chest. “You’re so hot, I don’t know what to do with myself. I’d take you right here, right now, but I wanna bide my time.”
He pulls back, framing my flushed face with both hands. “When I finally make you mine, I want you to be comfortable. I’ll wait until you’re ready, Trouble.”
“Let’s take it slow and enjoy all our firsts together.”
I pluck the flowers from the fretboard of my guitar and carefully put them next to his hat. Humming, I slide the instrument onto my lap. “Can I play something for you?”
Rust turns off the radio. “Do I know the song?”
“Not unless you can read my mind. I just came up with it.”
I’ve never written my own music before. Not for lack of trying, but everything sounded like a knockoff of some other track.
As my fingers pluck the strings, I can feel it in my bones:
This melody is the start of something new.
Rust’s voice rises over my soft vocalizing and the hairs on my arms stand on end.
“I’d cross the law, risk it all, break every rule. I’d do anything, darlin’, just to be with you.” His tone is incredibly smooth and rich for a sixteen-year-old. It takes me by surprise every time.
Words form on my tongue. “Meet me at the creek when the moonlight shines.”
“So let me seal those lips and steal your heart. Won’t you run away with me?” he sings back.
“Cause baby, love’s an outlaw and on the road we’re free,” I answer.
Our voices meld as we repeat the last line together. My hands still and he takes one, kissing the tips of my fingers.
“Whoa, that was cool! We should call it… ummm… ‘Love’s an Outlaw.’ What do you think?” he suggests.
“Hell yeah! Our first song as Kentucky Skies.”
His eyes widen. “Did you casually give us an official stage name?”
“Yeah, cause of what you said to me earlier at the ranch. Do you like it?”
“Like? I love it. Kentucky Skies is gonna take the country music scene by storm,” he says decisively, as if it’s already written in the stars.
I put the guitar down. As we look out at the rain, Rust slings an arm around me and my hand creeps over the nape of his neck. I slide my fingers higher, over his scalp, drawing gentle circles with my short nails.
“Fuck, that feels good,” he groans. “More, please…”
He purrs like an overgrown cat and I can’t help giggling.
For the first time since I can remember, I found something I want more than fame.
I want Rust.