Chapter 18.
Austin
I wake up in a bed that isn’t mine.
And for the first time, it feels like a bed I belong in.
The unfamiliar peace is disarming at first. There are no alarms going off. No one tapping on the door telling me where I need to be and by when. No noise of our crew loading into a new venue outside. No schedule. I’m expecting that all-too-familiar jolt like I’m already late for something.
Until I realize I’m not.
There’s nowhere I need to be but here.
Then I feel TJ, tucked into my side, naked body against mine, asleep.
Strips of morning sunlight peeking through the blinds are drawn over our bodies threading in and out of the sheets.
Waking up next to TJ pushes the rest of the world away, keeping me right here.
I smile, turn to scoop him into my arms, and shut my eyes.
Every morning in Spruce, Texas is a morning to sleep in.
I just may never leave this bed.
Well, until my stomach growls and forces me to, at least.
Then TJ stirs, twists in my arms, and his sleepy eyes open onto mine. It’s our first morning waking up like this with no fear of being caught off-guard by anything. Except for morning breath. I kiss him. He kisses me back. “G’morning, stud,” he murmurs.
He told his mom about us last night.
Which means his dad knows, too.
TJ figured they already knew for quite some time. They were just waiting for him to say it. And now that he has, we don’t have to sneak around here at his house.
Can’t imagine what that feels like for him, to have that weight off his back after all these years.
“But, like, maybe we don’t have to kiss in front of them,” TJ says when we’re in his bathroom brushing our teeth. “Don’t know if I’m ready for that just yet.”
I smirk at him. “What kind of gentleman do you think I am?” I fling my arms around him, jabbing my toothbrush toward his face. “You think I’m gonna rip their son’s clothes off at the breakfast table and mack all over him?”
He twists his eyes onto me. “Yes.”
I frown. “I can behave.” Then I resume brushing my teeth, my arm still hooked around his neck.
Honestly, nothing feels all that different from yesterday.
I join his dad Tim chatting at the counter with mugs of coffee about how the weather affects satellite communications—honestly, I’m a bit lost—while TJ joins his mom Cissy at the stove to oversee frying up some eggs.
Everything is so relaxed, as if I’ve already been here for weeks and this is just another morning of us all just hanging out.
And when we’re seated and eating breakfast, TJ next to me, I can’t help but notice how much easier his laughter comes—even at his dad’s cheesy jokes. Cissy’s eyes light up every single time I say something. It isn’t long before I’m cracking up at nothing at all.
I already feel like a part of the family.
The rest of the morning, TJ and I lounge in the living room in front of the TV, my arm slung over the back of the couch.
Tim is still talking about an episode of Ancient Aliens he caught only half of last night before drifting off—and has way too many opinions about—and is trying to look it up so we can watch it.
Cissy is in an armchair nearby scrolling on her phone, perking up now and then to share a funny thing someone posted online.
I don’t even notice when TJ shifts closer, and my arm is around him, cuddling him to my side.
No one cares. No alarms sound out. His dad keeps geeking out over constellation-aligned pyramids in Egypt, and Cissy keeps gagging over cat videos on Instagram.
The life in this room. The brightness in everyone’s faces. How each moment feels so warm and tasty, I could just melt right into it like cream into coffee.
Is this what life could be like?
We’re floating on an inflatable pool lounger in the guest wing swimming pool.
The sky is just cloudy enough that it doesn’t feel like we’re being spit-roasted in the afternoon sun.
It’s a downright paradise—until TJ gets a funny idea, goes to tickle me, the whole inflatable capsizes, and we crash into the water in a fit of laughter and shouts.
I get him back for that, don’t worry, cornering him in the pool and tickling the guy without mercy until he’s nothing but tears and choked screaming.
Then we grow really still, and we’re just looking at each other, droplets of water sparkling on our skin, eyes alight with laughter, neither of us moving.
I go in for a kiss.
He melts into me, arms slipping around my body.
And the pair of us get lost in the corner of that pool with our lips and the water playing around our waists.
I can’t get enough of this guy.
We lounge in the shade of the gazebo a few hours later while he tells me more about his roommate back at school.
He’s right in the middle of expressing how he wants to fly out to LA to visit him when a flock of six ducks come out of fucking nowhere and land in the pool, stopping our conversation short.
We stare, stunned. “Is that Little A?” I ask, spotting my weird, feathery guy in the middle of the flock looking like he’s gone from being the odd-one-out to being their ringleader, taking shit from no one.
TJ and I look at each other. Then fight back laughter.
And when TJ can’t hold it in anymore, his explosion sends the ducks scattering back into the sky, and his laughter only grows as I shout out, “No, Little A! Come back! I miss you! Don’t you remember Daddy Austin? Come back!!”
At least the little guy’s happy.
Or became a Duck Mob Boss now or something.
It’s that night after our showers that I check my phone for the first time since stepping foot in this house yesterday.
I know, right? I scroll past a ton of nonsense to reach a text from Wily saying he has an idea about a new bass line in “Hate Me For a Reason” and to call him back whenever—the guy’s brain never shuts off, I swear, even during a two-week break.
A message from my mom asking when the tour’s over.
And nothing whatsoever from Ian or the label, which I’m honestly kind of surprised about.
Surprised in a good way, I think.
I text my mom back. Tell her I love her. And say I’ll let her know when I know, which I’m sure will earn a smile—Ian’s known for adding dates last minute.
Thinking about that pulls my mind to the less fun stuff. Ian’s last words to me. The tour continuing on after my precious time here with TJ. The world outside this paradise waiting on me like eyes peeping over a fence, already ready to snatch me back.
That outside world used to look so much friendlier. The thing I looked forward to escaping to. The peeping eyes used to be open ears. I felt purposeful. They drew me out of the dark.
But now my life is full of light, thanks to TJ.
I don’t need any drawing out.
Not anymore.
“I love sleeping in your arms,” TJ tells me when we’re cozied up in his bed, the lights off, window curtains drawn wide open—a stark contrast to the hotel rooms we’re used to. “It’s my new favorite thing. Even more than pancakes.”
I grin against the back of his neck, spooning him, and it’s with that big-ass grin spread over my face that I swear I drift into the most peaceful sleep I’ve ever known.
That next morning, we have pancakes.
And maybe the next one, too.
Every morning is a brand new adventure. I’m stunned at how fast I’ve bonded with his dad.
And apparently Cissy’s been holding out on me, failing to mention a collection of funny-ass coffee mugs she keeps, discovered only when she spots me bringing my own favorite smiley mug to the kitchen for a fix of caffeine.
“Yep, our Fourth of July Boomin’ Barbecue is going to be so much fun, and I am insanely happy you’ll be here for it,” Cissy tells me when TJ is off on a quick trip to the bathroom.
“There’s gonna be fireworks galore when the sun’s down—I made sure to order twice as many as Nadine does, not that it’s a competition.
The whole town will be here, but don’t you worry, there’s plenty of space for everyone to spread around, so it’ll never quite feel crowded.
TJ told me you … have a thing about crowds?
” she adds in a hush. “Really, I can cut the guest list in half if it’d make you more comfortable. ”
“Don’t you dare,” I say back to her with a smile, and the relief on her face is palpable. “I’m honored to be here for your Booming Barbecue, as long as I get to set off one or two of those fireworks.”
“Oh, sweetheart, I hire professionals for that. Can you believe Nadine actually lets her boys set them off every—nope, sorry, told myself I wouldn’t gossip.” That lasts half a second before she adds, “It’s a miracle Jimmy and Tanner still have all their fingers.”
Then TJ appears from around the corner and stops short, his face wrinkled up. “What about fingers?”
Cissy and I share a smile.
I do love mornings in this place.
I guess the evenings aren’t so bad either. Dipping our toes in the swimming pool, taking in the warm evening air, talking about nothing, talking about everything, waiting for the stars to come out of the blue gloom.
Despite us clearly not minding their presence, I sense Tim and Cissy trying to give TJ and I as much space as possible, particularly in the evenings, which is an unintentionally funny-ass thing to say considering the amount of space there is on this property.
Even days later, I feel like I could still get lost finding my way to the nearest bathroom.
TJ promises that’ll pass.
One night, he flicks on the pavilion lights to show me a piano left near the back of the stage in a glass enclosure.
He sits down and fumbles through a song he half-remembers from the lessons his mom forced him to take as a kid.
After circling him a few times listening to him play, I finally sit next to him and take over.
TJ is surprised. Then quickly decides not to be. “I mean, you’re a musician. Of course you play more than just guitar.”