Chapter 37
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Cassie
Austin wants me to share everything with him from the very beginning? It’s a reasonable suggestion, but… “It’s a long story.”
He shrugs his broad shoulders, heading to the fridge to pull out ingredients for dinner. “We’ve got time. I’m not going anywhere, Cassie.”
That settles something within me, and I exhale slowly. He’s right. We have time because I’m staying and he’s not leaving me because I kept my life as Melody from him. Shifting to get comfortable on the cool countertop, I reply, “OK. The beginning then.”
Telling Austin everything lifts a weight off my shoulders I hadn’t realised I was carrying.
While he preps dinner, I tell him about Miranda’s reaction to the first song I wrote as a kid, then the change in her attitude after I performed in my school’s talent show.
When we sit down to eat at the kitchen table, I share stories about the gigs I played when I was first starting out.
I tell him about Miranda’s decision to move us to Nashville when I was sixteen and getting my first record deal a few months later.
Done with our meal, we clear our plates, leaving them in the sink to wash up later. Austin puts the kettle on to make us both a cup of tea, then we move through to the living room, settling into opposite corners of the couch.
“Sorry if this should be obvious, but why is a multi-album deal a bad thing?”
Tucking my legs beneath me, I cradle my mug in my hands, smiling despite the tender wounds our conversation is poking at.
“It’s not—not on its own, anyway. Back then, a five-album deal seemed like the ultimate compliment.
If I’d been older or had a manager who had my best interests at heart, it could have been a wonderful opportunity.
In many ways, it still was. The label put a lot of dollars behind me to ensure my success. I got to tour the world…”
Austin reaches out to lay a hand on my knee, the warmth of the contact seeping through my jeans and steadying me. “You don’t have to do that.”
“Do what?” Confused, I sip my tea, waiting for him to explain.
“Keep pointing out all the good parts so you don’t sound ungrateful.”
“I wasn’t—”
He gives me a look.
Oh. Austin’s right. I’m still being the ‘nice girl’. Likeable. Palatable. It’s so ingrained in me I didn’t notice. I know I don’t need to do all that for his benefit. Austin wants the real me, not the version that’s polished to perfection. “I didn’t mean to.”
Giving me a sympathetic look, he squeezes my knee. “I know. I also know you’re aware of how fortunate you are to have all these amazing things and experiences in your life. That doesn’t mean you can’t also grieve the pieces of yourself you lost or that were taken from you along the way.”
My eyes burn. For once, instead of worrying about coming across as a spoiled little rich girl, a princess, I let the tears escape.
I’m not outright crying, but it’s still a relief.
For weeks I worried sharing this part of my life with Austin would ruin everything.
I never imagined being able to talk to him about all of this would be so… cathartic.
“So, the deal. It wasn’t good?”
“It seemed great at the time—the money, the opportunities. Now I’m on the other side, I can see it for the predatory move it was.
They locked me into a contract I was too young and na?ve to truly understand so they could mould me into the perfect money-making machine.
If Miranda had looked out for me instead of herself, things might have been different. ”
“I still can’t believe your mother is your manager. Everything you told me about your relationship with her makes so much more sense now.”
“Yeah. Before coming here, I resented her for not protecting me. While I won’t say I’m glad that’s not how things played out, I don’t regret where I’ve found myself.” I take hold of his hand. “If I hadn’t felt so trapped, I never would have come here. I wouldn’t have you.”
“You said your contract with your label is done now?”
I nod. “For the first time in years, I’m free.” A relieved laugh shakes my body, and I set my tea on the coffee table before I spill it.
“That must feel good.”
“I don’t… it’s only just sinking in that I’m not going back.
” At his look of concern, I rush to explain, “Not in a bad way. It’s just…
when I got here, I didn’t know who I was anymore, and I’d fallen out of love with music.
Being away from all that pressure gave me space to figure out that I can be myself and keep music in my life.
It didn’t feel real until now. Maybe because my life here didn’t feel completely real either—not while I was hiding so much from everyone.
Being free to stay here and make music on my own terms? It feels like a dream.”
Austin holds his arms open for me, and I move across the length of the sofa to curl up against his chest. His arms band around me, strong and reassuring.
“This is real, I promise. I hate that you were taken advantage of, that the one person who should have always been on your side pushed you to your breaking point—” Austin’s voice cracks with emotion and he rests his chin atop my head, taking a beat to gather himself.
“Nobody’s going to take advantage of you ever again.
Whatever comes next is completely up to you. ”
* * *
Austin and I stayed up until the early hours of the morning talking about what my life as Melody was like, and what I want from my future in Pine Grove.
I was worried he’d be disappointed that I plan to get a place of my own here, but Austin is all for the idea.
He understands that, while I want us to have a future together, I’m staying in town for my own reasons.
I need more time to be independent before we take any big steps like moving in together.
Eventually, we migrated from the couch to Austin’s bed. Despite the hour, we came together with an unspoken understanding that we both needed to reconnect on a physical level after such an emotional twenty-four hours. We fell into bed in a tangle of limbs and slow, sleepy kisses.
Unbidden, my thighs rub together and I brush my fingertips over my lips as flashes of memory from last night play in my mind.
Austin’s slow, deep breathing changes, and he nuzzles his face into the side of my neck.
“What time is it?” His deep voice is thick with sleep.
The gravelly sound, coupled with the way he presses himself against me even closer so I can easily feel the hard length of him at my back, makes me want a repeat of last night.
Freeing one hand from the covers to stroke over the freckled arm around my waist, I reply, “No idea. The clock’s on your side. I don’t feel as tired as I should, which probably means we’ve accidentally slept in.”
“Mmm, OK.” Austin kisses the slope of my neck, his beard brushing against the sensitive skin in a way that makes me angle my head to give him better access.
He slides his hand beneath the covers and lightly skims the tips of his fingers up and down the length of my torso until I’m squirming and wishing he’d go lower.
Rocking against me, Austin finally slips his hand between my legs, gliding two fingers through my folds to tease at my opening. Now this is the perfect way to start the—
“Wait.”
Austin stops immediately, moving so his hand rests on my hip. “What’s wrong?”
“It’s Monday,” I reply, already wiggling into a sitting position. “I’m supposed to meet the girls for—shit.” The face of Austin’s clock mocks me from the table on his side of the bed. “We overslept, like, way over. It’s half twelve.”
Austin’s copper brows shoot up. “Really?”
My shoulders slump. “Yeah.”
“Sorry you missed coffee with the girls. I’m sure they’ll understand.”
“Crap, yesterday was Sunday, you missed your game night—”
“I texted the guys to tell them I wouldn’t make it.”
“Oh, OK. That’s good.” Swinging my legs over my side of the bed, I try to remember where I put my phone last night. It’s downstairs somewhere—I know that much. Picking up Austin’s t-shirt from the floor, I throw it on, then ask, “You want coffee?”
Austin’s already up and pulling on his boxers. “I’ll make it. You text the girls to let them know you’re alive.” He joins me in the bedroom doorway, and I rise onto my tiptoes, angling my face up. Meeting me halfway, Austin brushes his full lips against mine in a chaste kiss.
“Thanks.” I trot down the stairs with a spring in my step.
My phone’s not in the living room, which means I must have left it in the kitchen.
Austin’s already adding milk to our coffee when I walk in.
I’m momentarily distracted by the way the muscles in his back contract and relax as he moves.
Catching me looking, he shoots me a look filled with heat over his shoulder.
Right, the sooner I text a quick apology in the group chat, the sooner we can finish what we started upstairs.
I tear my gaze away long enough to spot my phone on the counter in the spot I occupied while Austin prepared last night’s dinner. Hopefully the battery’s not dead. The phone’s screen comes to life when I pick it up, but my smile freezes in place when I see the display.
Twenty-seven missed calls. A ridiculous number of texts. Before I can investigate further, the phone rings, and I nearly jump out of my skin.
My hand trembles as I swipe to accept the call.
“Hello.”
“Cassie, thank God. Why haven’t you been answering your phone?” Liam’s voice is tight with panic. In all the years I’ve known him, he’s never sounded this stressed. He’s always been the unruffled, easy-going one.
“I didn’t have it on me. What’s wrong? Are you and Bailey OK?”
“What’s going— Wait, you mean don’t know?”
“Know what?”
Austin’s in front of me, giving me a questioning look, but I can’t offer him any reassurance. If Liam and Bailey are fine, then the only reason he’d be calling me in such a state is if—
“Cassie, everybody knows.”