Chapter 19
WOLFE, EARLIER THAT MORNING
When I woke to an empty bed, my stomach dropped. The van was way too small to hide a grown man, so I knew Trace was no longer here.
It wasn’t until I rolled out of bed that I remembered that I’d agreed to spend the morning hiking with Jake.
Was that the reason Trace left? If so, fuck him.
I showered angrily and changed into hiking clothes. If Trace was going to be a chivalrous dick about it, then I might as well go on the damned hike instead of politely begging off.
But my annoyance wasn’t as strong as my desire to see and touch Trace, so I threw open the door to the van and started an angry stride toward his campsite, only to stop halfway when it became obvious Trace’s car was gone.
Well, fuck me.
And fuck him twice.
Just when I’d built up an impressive head of steam, I returned to the van and caught sight of a piece of paper on the driver’s seat.
Heading to Montrose to grab a bite and catch up on a little work. Text me later. I’d love to spend the afternoon with you.
—Trace
I let my shoulders fall in relief and grinned at the stupid scrap of paper like it was a winning lottery ticket. He wants to spend more time with me.
More than that, he was giving me space to deal with Jake by myself.
The message was followed by his phone number, I realized with a flash of fondness. As if I didn’t have Trace’s number memorized after all these years.
Trace had always been there for me when I’d called.
He was as steady as they came. Trustworthy and true. The kind of man who wouldn’t make a promise he couldn’t keep.
Suddenly, what I needed to do seemed incredibly clear. Starting by letting Jake down easy.
I knew he’d be hurt or jealous if I mentioned Trace, so I wouldn’t. I’d simply say I only wanted to be friends since I was headed home soon. No reason to get into the details. I didn’t owe him anything.
The coming conversation was enough to make my hands sweat, so when Jake drove up a few minutes later, I wiped my palms on the fabric of my hiking pants. “Hey.”
Jake was all smiles and easy humor as he opened his truck door for me. “You ready for a killer view minus the killer?”
“Actually,” I began. But then I froze when I saw my journal on his dashboard, scarred and well-loved in the morning sun.
“What… what are you doing with that?” I asked stupidly.
“Oh, that.” He shot me a sheepish wince. “Shay swiped it the other day when we were here hanging out.”
“What the fuck?”
“I guess she wanted to see if you had any music tips or whatever. But then she felt bad and fessed up. Asked me to return it since she was so embarrassed about the whole thing. She’s really sorry.”
On the one hand, it sounded like something a teenager would do, especially one with hero worship. On the other, the lack of respect from Shay surprised the hell out of me.
“Believe me,” he continued, all wide-eyed and sincere, “I’ve already had a big talk with her about how stealing is wrong, and stealing someone’s journal is exponentially wrong.”
His entire demeanor was, like, a beat off from his casual tone. The entire thing felt wrong, somehow.
And he knew it was a journal. Not just a notebook, a journal.
Which meant he’d opened it.
My heart dropped to my stomach at the idea of anyone putting their eyes on the contents of that book.
I closed my eyes and tried to keep my breathing steady. Had Shay photographed any of it? Sent pages to someone? The songs weren’t the worst of it—the worst of it was everything else. The things I’d written about Trace that I’d never said out loud to another human being.
My stomach lurched when Jake touched my arm.
“Hey.” His voice was careful, like he was approaching something that might bolt. “Shay’s mortified. Really. She asked me to come instead of facing you herself.”
The shame of someone else reading my private thoughts was already hardening into anger, but I forced it down. “Okay. Well. Thank you for bringing it back, I guess.” I held out a hand for the book.
Jake smiled patiently. “Come on, Wolfe. Don’t be like that. Let me make it up to you, huh? I stayed up late making an amazing salad trio and some gourmet sandwiches for our hike—”
I shook my head. “I don’t feel like hiking anymore.”
His smile dimmed. “But… we made plans.”
Before your sister took my fucking journal.
“Listen, Jake, I’m not really open to starting something. And I—”
His forehead creased. “I know you want to move slow. That’s fine with me.”
“No, I mean… I don’t want to move at all.” Well, that sounded stupid. “I mean, I just want to be friends.”
His face went through several emotions. Surprise, disappointment, anger, then resignation. “Well, I can’t say I love hearing that, but I can’t say I’m surprised either. You and your dad’s friend, huh?”
“What? I didn’t say—” Had we been that obvious the other night?
Jake shrugged. “It’s cool. So we’ll hike as friends.”
“Jake.” I hesitated. “I really don’t know—”
“Please? The overlook’s one of my favorite places, and it’s only a few miles from here.”
I glanced at the journal on his dash again and considered my options.
I was angry… though I supposed Jake wasn’t the one who deserved my anger.
I was also concerned that if I made a big deal out of demanding my journal, it would make my desperation obvious.
That might make Jake suspicious about what was inside it…
assuming he hadn’t already read every damn word.
Or if he had skimmed through it, he might wonder why I was making such a big deal over a few scraps of lyrics and decide to research further.
He could even refuse to give it back entirely and drive away.
“Please?” Jake repeated softly, giving me a sheepish grin.
I blew out a breath. Trace was gone until this afternoon. And Jake had mentioned the trailhead was close to the campground.
The easiest solution was to go with Jake and grab my journal the minute I slid into the passenger seat of his truck, no confrontation needed.
We could share a friendly hike, and I could find out what he really knew—or thought he knew—from the journal.
That would be a much better use of my time than sitting in the van worrying about it. Or doodling Trace’s name in a heart bubble while waiting for him to come back.
“Okay,” I agreed. “As long as we’re back here by one.”
Jake’s smile widened. “Great! Hop in, and we’ll be the first on the trail.”
As soon as I climbed in the truck, I grabbed the journal and slid it into my daypack, unwilling to let it out of my sight again.
As we pulled out of the campground, Jake looked over at me, still with an easy smile on his face. “So, is the just friends thing because of your dad’s friend? Be honest.”
I’d already decided not to share that with him. I wasn’t concerned about hurting his feelings anymore, but I didn’t want to give him more information about me than he might have already gotten.
“I’m not going to be in Colorado much longer,” I said. “And I’m not up for a long-distance thing.”
Which was… actually true. Even with Trace, I wasn’t sure how it would work. His roots in Legacy were as deep as they could grow, while I’d lived in San Francisco my entire life.
But who was I kidding? I’d probably move to Antarctica if it meant having a future with Trace. Moving to Legacy—the town where my siblings and cousins already lived—would be a joy. Hell, it would feel like coming home.
I’d meant what I’d said to Trace yesterday. It was my favorite place on Earth.
“Too bad,” Jake said. “Guess that cuts Trace out, too. He lives in Montana, right?”
I shrugged uncomfortably. “Not sure what that has to do with anything. I told you, this isn’t about—”
“And you’re in the music business,” he continued like I hadn’t spoken. “So you probably can’t leave California.”
My entire body went cold as I glanced over at him. “Um…”
He flashed me a smile. “I know you said it was a secret, but it’s just us here. Must be wild to grow up with Jude Marian as your father.”
The blood flooded back into my brain so fast, it made me dizzy. “Right. Yes. Wild.”
Chill out. He knows you’re Wolfe Marian, Jude’s son.
He figured that out back when you got Shay the guitar.
Jake tapped his thumb on the steering wheel as a Randy Travis melody played through the truck’s speakers. “Your dad’s a fucking legend, man. For real.”
I nodded. “Yeah. Thanks.”
He flicked on the blinker and turned right onto a small gravel drive, marked only by a splintered wooden stake in the ground.
“Speaking of music,” he said. “Do you have any tips you can give Shay about getting into the music business? I figure you must have insight, growing up around all that stuff.”
His words disappointed the fuck out of me. This was exactly why I’d used a different name on my trip.
“It’s not an easy industry to get into,” I said, trying to keep my answer polite but vague. The kind of stuff I’d know from growing up with a father in the industry, rather than anything I’d learned from my own experience.
Jake nodded. “Pretty sure Shay told you, but she wants to be the next Taylor Swift. Like every girl her age with a guitar does, I guess. But she’s serious about it. She’s been watching YouTube videos her entire life, practicing as much as possible. She’s special,” he said confidently.
As he pulled into the small gravel parking area at the trailhead, I tried to think of a polite way of speaking the truth without being harsh.
Shay was talented and serious about pursuing her dreams. But so were thousands of other people. She didn’t have what it took to break out in the music business yet, though. And it would take a lot of study and effort to find it.
“Well, to start, she’ll need lots of vocal training,” I began.
“And a hook. A style or sound that’s different and distinctive.
There are a ton of artists trying to make it who are carbon copies of each other.
Generic good voices without that special something.
She needs to figure out what differentiates her from those other performers. ”
“You could help her with all that.”