Page 22 of Recklessly, Wildly Yours

“Okay, so while I support this suggestion, I also go by feel when it comes to music rather than too much thinking.”

I look at her. “So tell me your feels for each song.”

She turns silent, watching me with a look on her face that says she’s thinking deeply about something. When she speaks again, I expect to hear about her feelings over either the next song or the last one, but again, she gives me something else. “I’ve lived for twenty-eight years without anyone but my mother asking me for my feels. I wish there were more people out there like you.” Then, she gives me a cheeky smile and says, “Also, did you actually just speak in slang or did I mishear that?”

“Fuck, I did. I’ve spent too much time recently with a friend who speaks almost entirely in slang.”

Still smiling, she settles back against her seat. “That’s great news. I no longer feel the need to alter my language so that you don’t have to hurt your thumbs trying to google.” She taps my phone. “Okay, so I’ve just added this next song for two reasons. First, I love it. And second, I want to hear your singing voice on it. And just in case you’re a shy guy, we can duet this one so you don’t feel under the spotlight.”

I give her an amused look. “A shy guy?”

“It’s a thing.”

“I get that, but do I strike you as a shy guy?”

“Well, you might be when it comes to singing.”

I shake my head at just how far off base she is. “Play the song.”

With one last grin, she taps the phone and I immediately know the song before Jon Bon Jovi even begins singing. When the bass kicks in, Maddie turns the music up and starts nodding her head in time with the beat. By the time, Jon’s voice sounds from the speakers, her entire body is in sync with the song.

We both sing the opening line of “Livin’ On A Prayer” and Maddie’s joy is written all over her face at this. We sing together, Maddie’s eyes firmly on mine while I glance between her and the road. There’s no way I can’t look at her while we share this moment.

When we get to the chorus, Maddie closes her eyes, tips her head back, and belts it out. I match every lyric with her, wondering why I’ve never searched for a woman to do this with.

“Oh my god,” she says as the song ends. “Can we spend all day doing this?” Her face is lit up so fucking beautifully and electrically that I wish I could press pause on life and figure out how to help someone keep a feeling forever. If I could give her anything right now, it would be that.

“How much of your time is actually spent singing?”

The light disappears from her eyes. And go me for achieving that. “It’s not even about the amount of time I get to sing, it’s the honesty in it that means more to me. This”—she gestures between the two of us—“was more honest than any singing I’ve done in a long while.”

“That says a lot because I can’t even sing.”

“You were in every second of that song with me. That’s everything to me.”

“I think you might have to help me understand this. Surely, your fans are in every second with you when you’re up on a stage with them?”

“They are. God, it’s my favorite part of my work. Singing with them doesn’t even feel like work. It’s all the other bullshit I hate.”

“The business of it all?” I get it if that’s what she’s referring to.

She nods. “Yeah, that, but mostly it’s the manufactured brand that Tucker and Darren have created that I’ve struggled with. There’s very little truth in it, and it kills me that our fans think it’s all true.”

“You don’t have any say in it? Control over your own brand?”

She laughs and I feel the jaded mood of it. I sense her exhaustion. “The songs I write are at Tucker’s and Darren’s direction. There’s not one song on any of my albums that’s truly mine, that tells my fans something about me. I’ve had very little say in Madeline Montana from day one. I mean, Montana isn’t even my real surname.”

“Is Madeline your real name?”

“Yes. I got to keep that part of myself at least. Pretty much everything else is a performance designed to keep fans and find new ones. And even when I do something that wasn’t planned, I’ve had it drummed into me to always remember people are watching and judging.”

I’m not surprised about any of this. Not after watching my brother go through everything he has for his political career. And not after all the things I know about my friends who live in the public eye. The world puts the people they want to idolize through their paces, that’s for damn sure.

“Okay,” I say, “Play me a song that tells me something about you that no one knows.”

Hesitation flickers in her eyes and it’s in line with what I know of Maddie so far. I think her ex has taken her identity from her and I wonder if she’ll be able to give me a song. I think she’s confused as fuck about herself.

Just when it seems like she won’t give me a song, she scrolls my phone and selects one. I don’t know it and have no idea who the singer is but I’m immediately drawn to the lyrics.

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