Page 72 of I Do With You

“I have no idea,” I admit.

“Maybe start with a phone call?” he suggests, yawning hugely and stretching his arms overhead like all this drama really wore him out.

Or maybe it’s the traveling to my side in a matter of hours because he was worried I’d need him that’s made him tired. One day, I’ll thank him for showing up for me. Today is not that day.

He’s right, of course. I grab my phone and dial Hope’s number. As soon as it rings, it goes to voicemail.

“She declined the call,” I say, staring at the phone.

“Not surprised. She’s probably already poking pins in a voodoo doll with your face drawn on it.”

You’d think Sean’s kidding, but we did actually have someone do that with dolls of our onstage personas because we wouldn’t agree to personal, one-on-one interviews with her for her podcast despite her posting daily pleas for us to contact her. To be clear,interviewwas absolutely code for sex, and if we’d hooked up with her, I’ve no doubt we’d be named in a lawsuit of some sort afterward, given her absolutely crazed, vitriolic rants about what pieces of garbage we are for not seeing a “true fan.”

Yep, people are great. Some of them, anyway.

But Hope’s not the voodoo-doll type. She’s the walk-away-and-never-look-back type. Especially now.

I call again. Straight to voicemail.

“Hope, can we talk please? I can explain everything. Please call me.” I hang up, already willing the phone to ring because she’s calling me back.

“You sound like an addict begging for a hit.”

I don’t tell Sean that I am an addict. Addicted to Hope and the hope she gives me that I can be more than a persona. I can be a man, in love with a woman who came out of the literal woods and sent everything into utterly beautiful chaos. Including my heart.

Desperate, I try another number. One I got after getting busted out of the Wilson County Sheriff’s Department jail. Thankfully, it’s answered on the first ring.

“Whooo, buddy. You are sooo screwed.” Shepherd drawls out the judgment.

“I know. I need to fix it. Where is she?” Shepherd is fiercely protective of his sisters, and his loyalty lies solidly with them, but I’m praying he’ll help. It’s the only way I have a chance.

“I don’t know what you did, but Hope’s never been this upset. Not even over the guy she almost married. What’d you do?”

I can’t tell him. But knowing how badly Hope is hurting, I push every limit I can.

“I love her, man. I need to apologize to her and explain something.” I don’t add—and make sure she’ll keep my secret.

He whistles, clearly hearing my first words and knowing how much I mean them. “Well, it sucks to be you, then.”

“Yeah, no shit.”

I can almost hear his grin when he says, “No, it sucks to be you because she’s at Joy’s, and Joy’s gonna kill you long before you get the chance to talk to Hope. I’ll send you the address, but, uh, it was nice knowing you.”

Chapter 26

HOPE

One call to Joy, one sobbed plea consisting of nothing more than her name, and she’s in full-blown sister-defense mode. “Go to my place. I’ll meet you there.”

She’s at work today but is hightailing it out of there in an instant for me. That’s what friends do. That’s what family does. Not the mean, cold, hurtful thing Sean did.

I hate him.

Mostly because he ruined everything. I was happy in my stupidity, thinking Ben and I had something special. Fast, yes, but I’ve developed real, deep, strong feelings for him, and I thought he had done the same. But no. It was all some sort of vile, devious game I didn’t know I was playing.

Joy beats me to her apartment, probably because she broke every speed limit and ran every red light, but I can’t scold her for it when she opens the door holding a glass of red wine and a piece of dark chocolate candy.

“It’s not even noon,” I say, but I’m hardcore eyeing the wine.

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