Page 11 of Beneath Southern Stars

His nose scrunches. I’ve helped him a few times when he’s been stuck on a problem, so I’m not surprised at this displeasure at the science reference.

“You’ll never guess who moved in across the street.”

If I thought the caffeine and sugar crash had me out of sorts, that statement has taken things to an extreme level. Dolly’s house is situated without any neighbors across. Only the river. No, Nash is talking about Boone’s house. Boone who lives across the street from me. And Ryan.

“Who?” His mom and I ask at the same time. Only unlike the desperation in my voice, Dolly’s is genuine confusion.

“Ryan Miller.”

Whether it was me, Dolly, or both of us, there’s a gasp. And a ringing in my ears.Ryan Miller. There is no way my grumpy neighbor is an award winning, best-selling, chart-topping country music superstar. He cannot be the man who sings a duet with one of my favorite artists, Maggie Gibson. A song I have dreamt of dancing to with my future husband.

While I’m too busy having a minor meltdown in my head, Dolly asks a logical question. “How do you know Ryan Miller is in town?”

“Micah told me that Ginny told him he was in Frozen Spoon today.” It takes probably ten seconds longer than it should to draw the line from where he heard this information to us standing here. “Wait. Ms. Laney,youwere there.”

My eyes widen as his words sink in. Yeah, my neighbor who happens to have the name Ryan was in Frozen Spoon today. And sure, Ginny was staring at him like he was the actual sundae, but I thought it was a young girl thinking a man was hot.

They say your life will flash before your eyes as you face the end of life. I’m not sure about that, but I can confirm that about four days of life can flash through your mind as you realize the guy who couldn’t look you in the eye, barely spoke five words before today, and has an affinity for his ballcaps and sunglasses is in fact a bearded superstar.

“Laney?”

I slowly turn my head to Dolly. “Huh?”

“Are you okay?”

“I thought he was grumpy. Not . . . not . . . I’ve gotta . . .”

With my grocery sacks slug over my shoulder, I hustle toward the door. Before I exit, I pause and turn back to the Hanes duo. “Hey guys. Would you mind not saying anything to anyone else and maybe ask Micah and Ginny to do the same?”

“Why?” Nash asks, no judgment in his voice.

“Maybe Ryan doesn’t want to make a big deal about things. We’re used to our own celebrities in Mattie and Boone but this is kind of next level.”

Nash seems to think my request through and looks to his mom for guidance. She nods and a little relief relaxes the tension in my body.

Ryan Miller.

Whoa.

Chapter Eight

Laney

One of theblessings of growing up in a close-knit small town is everyone rallying to help out. Like tonight when I should be the one seeing to my guests, ensuring they have snacks and refreshments, and instead Emma and Lucy are covering for me. My gran would be disappointed. She was the epitome of a prepared hostess with something ready to serve an impromptu guest and plenty to add an extra plate at the dinner table.

I’m not one to be easily enamored by a celebrity. Heck, I grew up in a town that produced two professional athletes. Mattie Lincoln was always meant to play football professionally and Boone West has spent more than a decade as the king of the rodeo circuit. So why is this stranger keeping me from behaving like a rational adult? It’s slightly ridiculous and extremely embarrassing.

When Nash first mentioned Ryan by name, my mind couldn’t compute the connection. But by the time I hightailed it out of Magnolia Mart and made it to my car, I could see it. I saw what the beard and ballcap hid. Memories of articles about him over the years played back like the shuffle button to my favorite playlist. His acoustic duet with Maggie Gibson at the Country Crown Music Awards repeated a few times. The way he sangwith such passion. I’ll never forget it. Photos of him and his wife on the red carpet, obviously in love and happy. Even a magazine cover of him holding his new daughter. The little girl I know is Pepper.

An article I read about a year ago about his former wife’s battle with an illness. It was that memory that had me searching for an update. There would be no wife or mother to Pepper joining them next door. Katie Miller would not be greeting me with a smile and a wave across the driveway. Maybe that’s why I was drawn to Pepper. I see her loss. It’s something I know first-hand.

The drive across town doesn’t take long but it was enough time for me to try out a few different ways to break the news to Ryan. I may not know what it’s like to be a celebrity of his caliber, but I did grow up in a small town where gossip is a second language. Besides, even if most people don’t see the significance, I do have my own reputation in various mathematics and science circles.

Except he wasn’t home when I arrived. The driveway was empty and there was no answer when I knocked. I caught myself peeking through the blinds each time a pair of headlights lit up the house. The reason I am so invested in warning him is a problem for me.

“Laney?”

I blink a few times and shake my head, knocking the thoughts out of my mind and focusing on my friend. Ana is new to town, having moved here for a fresh start a few months ago. It’s been nice being friends with someone who didn’t grow up here. I love my town, but it’s a breath of fresh air to spend time with someone interested in getting to know who I am now and not who I’ve always been.

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