Chapter 9
CHAPTER NINE
NAT
After Rory had left, taking the girls—aka June’s entertainment—with her, thus making me that entertainment, there was no way I was preparing dinner tonight. Instead, we’d made the executive decision to order pizza.
Fortunately, spending the day playing circus, then school, then building a blanket fort while an excitable eight-month-old continually tore it down meant I didn’t have much time to think about anything else.
Namely the fact that my best friend had just asked me to marry him.
While he’d shot me looks throughout the afternoon, what we desperately needed was to talk. Mostly so I could ask him what the fuck he was thinking.
I’d barely been able to sneak into the bathroom to pee, so I obviously hadn’t had a chance to give him an answer about the whole be my fiancée thing. And I knew he needed one, like, yesterday. But what the hell was I going to say?
The whole point of downpour had been that we’d have one another’s backs, unwaveringly and without question. But this was so far beyond what any of us had ever imagined when we’d made that promise ten years ago.
I lay in June’s bed after bath time and three extra stories, waiting for the little girl to fall asleep, my mind churning over what it would mean if I said yes.
Not to be dramatic or anything, but what it would mean was that my life as I knew it was over. Not only that, but I’d be stuck in this town that felt more like a prison than a home.
No more flying across the globe.
No more shoots in exotic places.
No more meeting new people and experiencing new things every week.
No more filling my creative well with the one passion I loved above all else—photography.
When June’s breaths evened out, I extricated myself from under her arm and tiptoed my way out of her room. Holding my breath as if that would stop her from waking up, I eased the door shut, expelling a sigh of relief when no protests erupted on the other side.
Standing at the end of the hallway, I peeked into the living room where Asher sat, sprawled out on the couch, head resting back on the cushions, his eyes closed. He wore an old Johnny Cash T-shirt that was much smaller on him now than it had been when he’d bought it in high school. He’d always been tall and lanky, but he’d filled out the older he’d gotten. He wore gray sweatpants that did absolutely nothing to hide the other areas he’d filled out.
While I obviously wasn’t oblivious to the fact that both of my closest friends were smoking-hot dudes, I’d also never really seen them as sexual beings—not to me, anyway.
Or, I hadn’t.
I didn’t know if it was because I’d spent the past six nights sharing a bed with Asher—and waking up pretzeled around him like he was my personal stuffed animal—or if it was the whole maybe-marriage thing that had sparked that part of my brain, but now I couldn’t not see it.
I could honestly say now I definitely understood the whole mysterious, broody musician vibe girls went crazy for.
“How long are you gonna stand there starin’ at me like a stalker?” he murmured without opening his eyes.
“Oh, I’m the stalker, but somehow you knew I was standin’ here, even with your eyes closed.”
“You might be small enough that I could fold you up and put you in my pocket, but you walk like you’ve got cement blocks tied around your ankles.”
With a laugh, I strode toward him and dropped down on the cushion at his side, shoving my elbow into his stomach and delighting in his grunt of surprise. “You deserved that. I walk just like I do everything else.”
“Yeah, like you don’t give a single fuck what anyone thinks.”
“ Daintily , Ash. I do all things daintily. But, please, tell me more about this favor you need from me…”
He chuckled and wrapped an arm around me, tugging me into his side. I snuggled in, notching myself perfectly under his arm, as if that very space had a Nat-shaped cutout made just for me.
“My compliments aren’t winnin’ me any favors?” he said. “Is that what you’re sayin’?”
“What I’m sayin’ is that if you want something, you’d be better off gettin’ it with some chocolate and maybe a little wine, instead of your smart mouth.”
He chuckled. “You love my smart mouth.”
“Not today, I don’t.”
“Unconditional love—isn’t that what you promised me?”
“I didn’t promise you shit. I’m not your wi—” I nearly choked on the word, remembering too late exactly the size and shape of the elephant in the room. The one we’d been avoiding all day. “Speakin’ of, we should probably talk about that.”
“Yeah… Look, Nattie, I know I’m askin’ a lot. This would be…” He blew out a breath, the move ruffling my hair. “You know I wouldn’t have asked if I had any other options.”
“So, I’m your last resort, then? Good to know.”
“You’re my every resort,” he said without hesitation, earnestness in his tone.
I had no idea why, but my stomach flipped at his words, like when a small plane hit a pocket of air and the entire thing dropped. It was a millisecond, really, but it was enough to draw my attention.
I was just out of whack, was all. Between being in Havenbrook longer than I’d been since I was eighteen, and getting thrown in as a pseudo parental figure when the most I’d done was spend an hour or two with my nieces once in a while, I was a little off my game.
“What about everything else the judge wants?” I asked. “A job? A house?”
He sighed, resting his head back on the cushion and slouching further into the couch. “I’ve been thinkin’ about that, too. I’ll be able to pay off the house with the life insurance money Cole mentioned, plus have a good chunk left for the kids’ college funds, if they want to go that route. But then I’ve gotta start thinkin’ about a job. As hard as it is to keep those kids in line, I don’t think anyone’s gonna pay me to do it. And Carla’s gonna need some direction soon.”
“What about sellin’ some more songs? You like to play, but you love to write—it’s the reason you started in the first place. I know it wasn’t what you’d planned?—”
“None of this is what I planned.”
I laid my hand on his stomach, offering my comfort in the only way I could. “I know. You could also think about offering lessons? I bet you could get people willin’ to travel all the way from Memphis for a chance to have you teach their kids—or even themselves.”
“I don’t know about that…”
I scoffed and lifted my head back up to stare up at him. “Are you kiddin’ me? You’re Asher McCoy .” I pretended to faint, then snapped to with a grin. “Could’ve sworn that was you out tourin’ with Wade freaking Grant last year… Not only would people travel that far for lessons, but I bet you could charge an ungodly sum for it, too.”
“I’d feel like an asshole if I did that.”
“Yeah, well, that asshole could eat and provide a stable home environment for two kids, so…”
He was quiet for long moments before he blew out a sigh. “Maybe. But that still doesn’t fix the lie I told the judge. Which is where you?—”
“Uncle Asher,” June said from the hallway. “I can’t sleep.”
Asher and I both whipped our heads in that direction. I had been so absorbed in my back-and-forth with him that I hadn’t even heard June’s door open or her apparently non-cement-block-weighted steps.
He pulled his arm from around me and stood before striding to June. He scooped her up and snuggled her close, rubbing a hand along her back. “What’s the matter? Did you have a bad dream?”
She nodded and rubbed her eyes before resting her head on his shoulder. Without hesitation, I automatically reached for my camera to capture the moment. Even domesticated, I couldn’t stop that itch.
He was silhouetted by the hall light spilling over his broad shoulders as he tucked his face down toward June and swayed with her. It was so soft, so loving, I needed to preserve it.
I clicked the shutter, feeling… special in that moment. That I was able to bear witness to this man who’d cultivated an image so far from the one he showed now—the real one.
In the public eye, he was Asher McCoy, up-and-coming country-rock music star, with the croon of a brokenhearted man and fingers meant for more than just strumming a guitar. But here, in the privacy of these four walls, he was merely Asher. Best friend since childhood, loving brother and uncle, and devoted man.
Which made my decision all the more taxing.
Owen’s voice crackled over the baby monitor, his cries for ma-ma-ma-ma nearly ripping my heart in two. From the devastated look Asher shot me, he felt my pain ten times over.
“I got it,” I said, brushing a hand across his lower back as I passed him on my way to Owen’s room.
I cracked open the door, a swath of light illuminating the little boy as he stood in his crib, drawing his leg up as if attempting to mount the rails and climb right out.
“Whoa, buddy.” I scooped him up and held him close. “Let’s save the rappelling till you’re a little older, yeah? I promise I’ll take you when you’re ready.”
This was the part of the job I hadn’t quite perfected. Playing and roughhousing and exploring…making trouble, basically, were all right up my alley. But when quiet snuggling was required, I stumbled.
I’d never been one to sit still, my body constantly humming with the need to move . But nevertheless I sat and rocked. Ran my hand down Owen’s back while he rubbed his face back and forth along my shoulder, as if he, too, couldn’t get comfortable.
Who knew how long later, I finally gave up, and the two of us headed for the room I’d been sharing with Asher since I’d arrived.
He hadn’t yet been able to step foot into Aubrey and Nathan’s bedroom, and I hadn’t had the heart to push him to. I hadn’t seen the need. It wasn’t exactly a hardship to have a built-in cuddle buddy and toe warmer—my feet, no matter the heat, were perpetually cold.
And if I had to stuff down the knowledge that I now knew the approximate length and girth of my best friend’s morning wood thanks to a couple predawn wake-ups, well…I could take that to my grave.
I stepped into our shared room and found Asher sprawled out on his side, June tucked into him. He shot me a sleepy grin and lifted the shoulder that wasn’t currently buried under his niece.
I responded in kind with a tip of my head toward Owen, who’d snuggled into my chest, his eyes heavy and drooping. Though I knew if I attempted to set him in his crib, he’d start crying all over again. We’d been down that road seven times before.
Careful not to jostle Owen, I climbed into bed and slipped under the covers, my arm holding the baby now pressed against Asher’s.
“Not exactly the evenin’ we had planned, huh?” I said, my voice a mere breath in the quiet room.
“That’s okay. We’ve got tomorrow.” Asher hooked his fingers together with mine and squeezed. “Thanks for bein’ here, Nattie. I couldn’t do this without you.”
I wasn’t sure if it was the cloak of darkness or our nearness or that us, lying there together, felt more intimate than pretty much anything I’d felt in my entire life, but I nearly opened my mouth and spilled the fact that I couldn’t do anything without him.
He was my rock, no matter where I was in the world. Even though Nash was the third in our trio, Asher was the one constant I could always count on.
Instead of baring that part of my soul and telling him that, I squeezed his fingers encased in mine. “Clearly.”