Page 120 of Forever To Me

“Hey, Walker,” she teases. “Hiding out again?”

I huff out a laugh, rubbing the back of my neck. “Something like that.”

Her eyes flick towards me, curiosity flickering across her face. “You know, for someone who doesn’t play music anymore, you sure have a lot of instruments just lying around.”

I should tell her to drop it. I should say something gruff, something to make her laugh and move on. But instead, I hear myself say it—“You want to come with me sometime?”

Violet blinks. "Yeah, I'd love to," she whispers.

And I swear I see the exact moment when she realizes what I’m asking. This isn’t just about going to my cabin. My writing space.This is about stepping into something bigger.

This is about trust.

And when she smiles, soft and real, my chest tightens—because I already know.

I’m letting her in. And there’s no going back.

A few days later, I get home early for once. We finish cleaning up and relax in the family room after dinner. Mack has run off to work on homework, and Maggie has retired to her room with her book. Before I can chicken out, I say, “I want to show you something, Red.”

“Coming,” she says and winks at me.

I close my eyes. Fuck me.

She turns and grabs her guitar and follows me out the back door. I can tell she’s excited to go to the cabin, and that makes me even more nervous about what I’m about to show her.

We get down to the boat, and she laughs nervously. “I’ve never ridden in a boat.”

I hold it steady, and she gets in and looks a little uneasy. Reaching out, I hold her hand, steadying her.

Her eyes meet mine, and she says, “This isn’t the part where I find out you have a creepy clown doll collection hidden at your cabin, is it?”

I give her a look and shake my head as I tuck her guitar between us. I sit on the other side and crank the engine.

She looks up at the stars and shivers, goosebumps on her arms. “It’s so beautiful out here. I can see why you guys love it here so much. This place is so special.”

I look around as I steer the boat. “Yeah, it’s a pretty special place.”

We pull up at the dock across the water, and I tie up the boat. I help her out and grab her gear. Suddenly I’m nervous, so I take a deep breath. There’s no going back now.

“So, is this like your lady lair?” she waggles her eyebrows at me. "Where you take all of your ladies and write all of your love ballads?"

“Something like that,” I say, and she looks at me with surprise. I roll my eyes, "I’m kidding. I’ve never brought anyone out here before now. Can you keep this private?”

But I know she will. Something in me tells me that I can trust her.

She opens her mouth and shuts it again. “Now you’re kinda freaking me out, Walker.”

I take a deep breath and unlock the door, which is kinda funny that I lock it anyway, considering we’re in the middle of nowhere, but there’s a lot of expensive equipment in here, and you never know.

“Mack and I used to live here before I had the house built about ten years ago,” I say as the door swings open, and I turn on the light.

She moves slowly, eyes scanning the rustic space, and I imagine what she sees as she looks at everything. The couch we opened Christmas presents on. The one where I used to sleep when Mack was still getting up all throughout the night. The old wooden dining room table covered in notebooks of scribbled lyrics. The shelves full of notebooks of melodies I never intended anyone to ever see.

Then, finally, sheturns to me.

Her mouth opens. Closes. Opens again.

Then—“You’re Asher freaking Wyatt.”

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