Chapter Twenty-Six
Seven days seemed like a lot more time when you didn’t have a deadline looming over your head.
“What can I get for you?” asked the short, cute barista from behind the counter. Her brown apron had Haddie Jo’s stitched in caramel-colored thread on the upper left side and it looked like it was swallowing her up.
“I’ll take a large black coffee, please.”
I’d been cooped up in my apartment, reading the article that had consumed me and contemplating what I was supposed to do next, but I was getting absolutely nowhere.
I needed a change of scenery, and I needed to stop staring at my computer screen. There were no answers in there, only a million little reasons that made saying goodbye to Stetson and the article harder.
It also didn’t help that I missed Stetson. The aching in my chest and the constant phantom touches proved it, but despite my best efforts, I still couldn’t find my way around the truth.
So, like I always did, I took to writing, but this time, I didn’t chase words for the article. I chased the lyrics.
“Is this seat taken?” My headphones muffled the voice of the person talking to me, but it was only a mystery for a few seconds.
“Stetson…” His name softly left my mouth as I tried to adjust myself, or at least make it look like I hadn’t been in the same clothes since last Saturday, even though I definitely had been. I looked down to see the same T-shirt staring back at me—the one I’d stolen from him.
This was humiliating. I casually crossed my arms over the shirt, attempting to hide it.
Our town tried to be subtle too, and while some people were used to seeing him out and about, there were others who couldn’t take their eyes off him. Honestly, I didn’t blame them. Although, upon closer inspection, he looked like hell right now. At least as much as he was capable of.
His six-foot stature towered over me, his presence dominating me. His hat shaded his eyes, but darkness surrounded the normally brilliant bulbs of blue, and only his rounded lips and square jaw that was uncharacteristically covered by a lot of scruff were on full display.
“Can I sit?” he asked again.
My head agreed before my mouth could.
“Are you good?” I found myself caring more than I’d hoped.
“As good as I can be,” he responded. “And you?”
“I’m all right,” I admitted, giving him more than I should have.
“What are you working on? Can’t be the article, because Donna said you haven’t sent her anything new since she saw you on Saturday.”
I shot a look of bewilderment at him. “Donna?”
“Yeah, she called me.”
“And?” I asked, basically falling out of my seat.
“And she told me you came to see her last Saturday morning, said that you couldn’t finish the article. Or that you didn’t want to.”
“I never said I didn’t want to,” I sternly responded.
His grinded his teeth, forcing the muscles in his jaw to tense.
“Then why in the hell can’t you finish the article, Scarlett?
Because I told Donna about us, told her everything.
How I’ve never met anyone like you. That it isn’t your fault I overstepped our professional relationship, and how even though I shouldn’t have, I’m so glad I did.
” He released a breath from deep in his chest. “I even told her that I’d understand if she didn’t want you to work on the article because of everything that had happened, and you know what she said? ”
I did, in fact, probably know what she said, but I remained silent.
“She said she didn’t care about any of that. Said we’re both adults and our personal shit is our own business and no one else’s. So, tell me, Scarlett, why can’t you finish the damn article?”
“I told you, there’s just some things—”
“I don’t care about any of it. Nothing that you tell me would ever change the way I feel about you.” He dropped his head into his palms, rubbing his face in frustration.
“You don’t know that, Stetson,” I reassured him even as I shuddered at the thought.
“But what I do know is that you don’t need me.
Not to finish the article and not to finish this album.
Everything you’ve done so far, you’ve done on your own.
You’re stronger than you give yourself credit for, and the sooner you realize that, the better off you’ll be. ”
“That’s where you’re wrong.” He directed his pointer finger at me before waving it back and forth. “You’ve bunked up in my head, making yourself a permanent resident up here.” He pushed his finger to his temple. “I couldn’t evict you even if I wanted to, and just to be clear, I don’t.”
“You know something I don’t get, even after spending so much time with you?”
My comment piqued his interest. “Let’s hear it.”
“Why someone like you would ever choose to be with someone like me.”
Without even taking a breath, he said, “You’re not serious, are you?”
“I am,” I pleaded. “It doesn’t make sense.” I shook my head back and forth. “You could quite literally have any person you wanted. Why me?”
I was proud of just coming out and saying what I’d wanted to say for a while now. I knew if I didn’t do it now, I might not ever get the chance to, but I was still terrified for his response.
The muscles in his jaw tightened as he struck a stern look in my direction.
“Have you ever thought that maybe it’s not the big things that stand out?
” he asked, before continuing without giving me a chance to respond.
“It’s all the little things that no one else notices that makes me absolutely fucking crazy about you. ”
“What do you mean?” I asked, curiosity getting the best of me.
“I mean that you, Scarlett, are like the stars. You’re bright and mysterious, and somehow, you’re always there even when I can’t see you.
You constantly see beauty in all the things that others look right past. The way you continuously shine brighter when you’re doing things for other people.
The way you speak your mind, especially in situations where everyone else is too scared to.
The way you think you hide your fears and vulnerabilities, when in reality you wear them like a badge of honor on your sleeve.
” He chuckled, rubbing his mustache. “And it’s the way your mouth curls up on the right side of your face when you want to smile but you’re trying your damnedest not to. Just like you are now.”
My finger automatically found the ring on my finger, fidgeting with it while I tried to scrape together a response.
“Did you ever consider that maybe you’re not afraid of scaring me away with whatever you’re keeping from me, but rather you’re afraid it might pull me closer to you?” he pondered.
Stetson had shown me on more than one occasion that he was a deep thinker, that his smart-ass mouth was only a small part of who he was, and he really did have a depth to him that I assumed most people had never had the chance to see.
“Little by little, you’ve shown me what you fear the most is letting people in, letting me in.
It terrifies you, that much is clear. And I know I haven’t carried the same kind of heartbreak as you, but I have been heartbroken, and at first, the thought of even considering letting someone new in almost took me out.
It felt like self-sabotage, like I was just asking to feel the pain of heartbreak again. ”
“Well, that’s because it is self-sabotage,” I pushed. “And to jump into bed with someone like you and expect something more than a random hookup would, quite frankly, make me a little idiotic, don’t you think?”
“Quite the opposite, in fact. I think it makes you stronger than you would ever give yourself credit for. Is heartbreak scary and overwhelming? Sure. But you know what’s scarier?
Thinking about living a life and having no one to share with.
” His hand dropped on top of mine. “After losing Jackson, I spent months telling myself I’d never get that close to someone again.
But then I slowly began to realize that the memories we shared were worth every single ounce of pain, and I would’ve happily gone through it again if that meant I could spend even one more day with him.
” The softness in his voice was still laced with sorrow.
“If you spend the rest of your life protecting your heart from everyone else, you’re only going to end up breaking it yourself,” he said.
For a moment, a blip in time, everything stood still around us, almost as if someone had pressed the pause button. Our eyes glued to one another, silent communication bouncing between us.
I wanted to find fault in his words, to argue with what he was saying and prove him wrong, but the truth was that he was right—except for one thing.
“At this point, I’m more worried about breaking your heart than breaking my own.” The words themselves sounded like tiny cracks as they slipped from my lips.
He pulled his hand from the top of mine, interlacing his own two hands before dropping his head and nodding it up and down.
“I can see I’m not going to change your mind, at least not today.
” The defeat invaded his face. “I have a gig in Nashville next month and it would mean a lot to me if you came. I can’t force you to finish the article, I can’t force you to tell me what you’re so afraid to tell me, and I can’t force you to give me a chance, but what I can do is ask you to come support a friend. ”
Nothing about my and Stetson’s situation depicted a normal friendship, but he’d never just come out and asked me for something like this. The sadness in eyes, the droop of his mouth, and the depths of the wrinkles on his face were almost enough to say yes. Almost.
“I’ll think about it,” I said softly.
“Thank you,” he said, standing and pushing back in his chair before leaving me and heading for the front door of the coffee shop.
“And Stetson?” I called out. “They’re lyrics,” I said, holding up my journal. “You’re not the only one who can be inspired.” I offered a smile hoping he’d smile back, but all I got was a half-assed lopsided smirk.