Chapter 7

Greyson

The moment I walked into the back room of the bar and saw Blair standing there, it was like the past slammed into my chest. Same emerald eyes, same stubborn lips.

But there was something different now, softer around the edges, heavier in how she carried herself.

Like she’d seen some things since we were last in the same room.

She turned when I said her name, her voice small when she said mine. I hated that it sounded unsure. Maybe I was someone she couldn’t trust anymore.

“Are you writing tonight?” I asked to fill the silence.

“No, just… needed to get out of the house. Madison’s nesting again, and I don’t want to get in her way.”

I nod and go to grab her a glass of water. Madison was a good person; blunt, honest, fiercely loyal. I’d known her since high school and if she looked after Blair, I knew she was in good hands.

“You two close?” I asked, pouring her water like I usually do.

She gave a little shrug. “We didn’t use to be, but she’s been… kind. We talk. She listens. We’ve grown closer over the years, and when she told me her pregnancy became high risk, I knew I needed to help since she has no one. ”

I leaned against the bar. “Madison’s been through it, too. More than most people know.”

Blair raised an eyebrow.

“She got pregnant last year, the guy she met during a weekend trip to Nashville. He ghosted. He didn’t want anything to do with the baby. She kept the kid anyway.”

Blair’s mouth fell slightly open. “She never mentioned that. I knew she had a fling but she said the father would eventually come around.”

“She doesn’t like pity,” I said. “But she’s tough. And I think having you around is good for her, too.”

The music swelled behind us, but the quiet between us held. She looked at me like she wanted to ask a thousand things, but didn’t know where to start.

“I missed this place,” she said finally. “I didn’t think I would.”

I smiled. “You never really stop belonging to where you’re from, Bee.”

She flinched. “You still call me that?”

“Always,” I said.

Something shifted in her eyes then, less guarded, more raw. “I didn’t think I could come back and still feel like me.”

“You don’t have to figure it all out tonight.” I reached over the bar, gently brushing her knuckles. “But I’m glad you’re here.”

If ads affect your reading experience, click here to remove ads on this page.