Chapter 6
The BluePaw Foundation site visit went better than expected, which meant only one minor disaster instead of the three I’d expected.
The disaster: Garbage decided the financial backer was his new best friend and expressed this by humping her leg with the enthusiasm of a teenager discovering the internet.
“I’m so sorry.” I wrestled fifty pounds of determined pit bull off a woman who looked like she’d seen everything and was now questioning her life choices.
“It’s fine.” Her expression suggested it was not fine. “He’s… enthusiastic.”
“That’s one word for it.” Eli appeared with treats, distracting Garbage long enough for her to escape to safer territory. “So! Want to see our new intake program?”
He was in full charm mode—the version of Eli that had talked his way out of speeding tickets and into VIP sections at clubs. It worked. By the time the backer left two hours later, she was smiling and making notes that looked suspiciously positive.
“We nailed it.” Eli collapsed on the bench once her car disappeared down the street.
“You nailed it. I nearly lost us the grant because my favorite dog is a sex offender.”
“Garbage is spirited. There’s a difference.” He turned to me, his expression shifting to serious. “So. Charlotte this weekend.”
“Yeah.”
“You’re really going.”
“I’m really going.”
“With Cole.”
“And Brynn. She’s coming.”
“Obviously. Someone needs to be the voice of reason.” He studied my face. “You’re falling for him.”
“I know. It’s fast. I know he’s leaving and all the reasons this is a terrible idea.” I sank onto the bench beside him, exhaustion hitting me like a wave. “But, Eli? I can’t remember the last time I felt like this. Like I matter. Like someone really sees me and doesn’t run.”
“He’d be an idiot to run.”
“You have to say that. You’re my best friend.”
“I’m saying it because it’s true.” His shoulder bumped mine. “You’re incredible. Any guy would be lucky to have you.”
“Even a twenty-four-year-old country singer?”
“Even him. I’m really happy for you.” He paused. “Just… promise me something?”
“What?”
“Don’t lose yourself in this. I’m not saying don’t go. I watched what happened with Marcus. How you made yourself smaller to fit into his life, and I never want to see you do that again.”
The name hit like a punch. My ex-husband. The man who’d convinced me to put my dreams on hold, to make our life together the priority, only to leave me for someone who didn’t have dreams that got in his way.
“This is different.”
“I know.” His voice softened. “Cole seems like a really good guy. Just remember that you don’t have to sacrifice everything.”
“I won’t.”
“Good.” He squeezed my shoulder. “Because you deserve someone who fits into your life without you having to dismantle it, and I think Cole might be that person. I just want you to remember you’re worth it.”
Friday afternoon, Cole picked us up in a tour bus that looked like it had seen better days.
“Home sweet home.” He gestured at the interior which sported narrow bunks, a small kitchen area, and a couch that had witnessed things. “It’s not glamorous, but it gets us where we need to go.”
“It’s perfect,” I lied.
Brynn climbed aboard, her heels clicking on the metal steps. She’d dressed up for this—fitted jeans, a leather jacket that probably cost more than my car payment. Her hair and makeup were flawless. “This is so much cooler than I expected. I thought tour buses would be gross.”
“Give it two days.” Decker emerged from the back, guitar in hand. He stopped when he saw Brynn, his eyes widening just slightly. “You must be Brynn.”
She froze. Just stopped moving entirely, her eyes going wide.
Decker recovered first, extending his hand. “Cole mentioned you were coming. Said you’re the one who’s been stalking us on Instagram.”
“I prefer ‘enthusiastically following.’” Brynn found her voice, shook his hand. “And you must be the brother.”
“Decker. The better-looking brother, some might say.”
“Some might be delusional.” Brynn winked.
“Ouch.” He pressed a hand to his chest. “And here I thought lawyers were supposed to be diplomatic.”
“Only in court. Outside court, I’m a menace.”
“I like menaces.”
They stared at each other, the air between them crackling with something I couldn’t quite name.
Faith appeared from the front of the bus. “Autumn! You made it.” She pulled me into a quick hug that surprised me. “This must be the famous Brynn. I’ve heard so much about you. Mostly about how you keep Autumn sane.”
Faith grabbed water bottles from the mini-fridge and passed them around. “Fair warning—the bathroom’s temperamental, Decker snores like a chainsaw, and we’re stopping for gas station snacks in about an hour because Cole refuses to eat actual meals on tour days.”
“I eat meals!” Cole protested.
“Beef jerky and Red Bull don’t count as meals.”
“They do if you believe hard enough.”
The bus lurched into motion. Cole grabbed my hand, steadied me, and pulled me down onto the couch beside him.
“You okay?”
“Yeah. Just… this is surreal.”
“Good or bad surreal?”
“I don’t know yet.”
He kissed my temple. “Fair enough.”
The drive to Charlotte took almost three hours.
Cole spent most of it with his arm around me, pointing out landmarks, telling stories about previous tours—the time their bus broke down in Tennessee and they had to hitchhike to a gig, the show in Georgia where someone threw a bra at Decker and it landed on his drums mid-song.
“It was lacy.” Decker had claimed the seat across from Brynn. “Red. Very tasteful.”
“There’s nothing tasteful about throwing underwear at performers.” Brynn tucked her legs under her, looking more relaxed than I’d seen her in months.
“I disagree. The color coordination alone showed real thought.”
“You’re ridiculous.”
“You like it.”
Brynn’s cheeks flushed. “I absolutely do not.”
“Liar.” His grin was wicked. “Your face is doing this thing where you’re trying not to smile. It’s cute.”
“I’m a criminal defense attorney. I don’t do cute.”
“You’re doing it right now.”
“I hate you.”
“Give it time. That’ll change.”
Faith settled into the seat next to me, lowering her voice. “How are you handling all this? The touring life, I mean. It’s a lot to take in.”
“I’m… processing.”
“I get it.” She twisted the cap off her water bottle. “Can we start over? I think we got off on the wrong foot.”
“We did?”
“Maybe not wrong, but definitely awkward. Ex-girlfriend meets new girlfriend. It’s inherently weird.” Faith smiled. “But I wanted you to know that I’m genuinely happy Cole found you. He’s been different since Asheville. Lighter. More himself.”
Something in my chest eased. “Thank you.”
“There’s a record label guy who’s been sniffing around. If he’s serious, our lives are about to get insane. Studio time. Promotional tours. Radio interviews. Long stretches on the road.”
My stomach clenched.
“Here’s what I learned the hard way; he’s going to feel guilty. About being gone, missing you, and not being the partner he wants to be. And if you let him, he’ll martyr himself trying to make everyone happy while slowly going crazy.”
What do I do?”
“Be honest. About what you need. About when you’re struggling.
Don’t let him disappear into the music so completely that it affects you two.
Also, don’t be afraid to ask for what you need.
” Faith’s expression softened. “Cole and I didn’t work because we both wanted the spotlight.
We both wanted the road. But you? You’re different.
You’re grounded, and I think you two actually have a shot if you fight for it. ”
“Thank you.”
“If you ever need to talk about the insanity of dating a musician, call me. Seriously.”
“I might take you up on that.”
“Please do.” Faith squeezed my hand. “Also, between you and me, watching Decker try to flirt with your friend is the most entertainment I’ve had in weeks.”
We both looked over. Decker was tapping out a rhythm on the armrest of his seat, drumsticks twirling between his fingers while Brynn watched, completely transfixed.
“Is that new?” Brynn leaned forward.
“Wrote it last week. It’s not done yet.” His sticks moved in a complex pattern. “What do you think?”
“I think it’s beautiful. The rhythm is gorgeous.”
“You know music?”
“Piano. Ten years of lessons my parents insisted on.”
“Play something for me later?”
“Maybe.” Brynn’s smile was shy, genuine. “If you’re lucky.”
“I’m feeling pretty lucky right now.”
The Charlotte venue was bigger than the Asheville bar—an actual concert hall with a green room with more than one couch and a bathroom that didn’t look like a health code violation.
“We’re moving up in the world.” Cole set his bass down.
“This is amazing.”
“Wait until you see the crowd. We’re sold out.”
“Sold out? Cole, that’s incredible.”
“I know.” His grin was pure joy. “We’re getting close, Autumn. To the big time. Record labels are starting to notice. There’s talk of a manager, a proper tour.”
Pride swelled in my chest. “You deserve it.”
“We’ll see.” He pulled me close, kissed me softly. “Right now, I just want to focus on the fact that you’re here.”
Someone knocked on the door. A guy wearing a suit that was too nice for the small venue poked his head in.
“Cole Stone?”
“That’s me.”
“David Randall. I’m with Horizon Records.” He extended his hand. “Heard great things about your band. Wanted to catch tonight’s show, talk about some opportunities.”
Cole’s face went blank with shock. “Horizon Records?”
“The one and only. Got a minute?”
“Yes. Absolutely.”
David stepped into the room, his gaze sweeping over everyone. “This the whole band?”
“Decker’s my brother, plays drums. Faith handles backup vocals and guitar.” Cole’s hand found mine. “Autumn and Brynn are friends.”
“Nice to meet you all.” David’s attention returned to Cole. “Mind if we chat? Just want to get a sense of your vision before the show.”
“Sure. Yeah. Let me just…” Cole looked at me, torn.
“Go.” I squeezed his hand. “This is important.”
“You sure?”
“Positive.”
He kissed my forehead, then followed David out of the room.
Silence descended for all of three seconds.
“Holy shit.” Decker sat down. “Horizon Records.”
“That’s huge, right?” Brynn looked between Faith and Decker. “I mean, I don’t know the music industry, but that sounds huge.”
“It’s massive.” Faith’s smile was genuine, excited. “If they’re serious, this could change everything.”
“Are you ready for that?” I asked. “The changes?”
Faith looked at me, surprised by the question. “Hell yeah, I am. I’ve been wanting the chance to really make it for years, and if it happens with this band?” She glanced at Decker, at Cole’s bass case. “That’d be pretty perfect.”
She stood, grabbed her bag. “I’m going to do warmups. Brynn, want to come? I could use the company.”
Brynn’s eyes widened. “Really?”
“Really. Plus, I want to hear more about this piano background. Maybe we can work up a duet or something.”
They left together, already chatting about music theory in a way that made my head hurt.
Decker watched them go, his expression thoughtful. “She’s something.”
“Brynn?” I asked.
“Yeah.” He adjusted a string. “Smart. Funny. Doesn’t take my shit.”
“That’s Brynn.”
“She single?”
“Very. But fair warning, she’s picky. And terrifying. And will absolutely destroy you if you hurt her.”
“Good.” Decker’s smile was slow, dangerous. “I like a challenge.”
The show was incredible.
Cole commanded the stage as if he had been born for it. The crowd knew every word of every song. When he played the ballad he’d dedicated to me in Asheville, people swayed with phone lights held high, and I felt tears prick my eyes.
Faith’s harmonies soared, their voices blending in a way that spoke to years of practice. Decker’s drum work was flawless. They were professionals. A unit.
At the heart of it was Cole.
After the show, he found me in the crowd, pulled me backstage, and kissed me hard enough to make the world spin.
“Did you see it?” His eyes were bright with adrenaline.
“You were amazing.”
“David wants to talk tomorrow morning. He’s talking about a development deal, studio time, a real album.” He grabbed my face, his smile incandescent. “This is happening, Autumn. It’s really happening.”
And I realized with perfect clarity everything was about to change.