Page 142 of Forever To Me

I sigh. “Baby.”

That gets her attention. She stops mid-pace, whipping her head toward me at the new endearment. “What?”

I nod toward the chair in front of me. “Sit.”

“I can’t sit! I have to do something. I?—”

“Sit, or I’m carrying you over here.”

Her eyes narrow. “You wouldn’t dare.”

I arch a brow. “You wanna test me?”

She mutters something about bossy cowboys but plops down in the chair, gripping the guitar like it’s a damn life raft.

I kneel in front of her, resting my forearms on her thighs. “You nervous?”

She lets out a sharp laugh. “No, I just love sweating through my shirt for fun.”

“It’s not a good look on you, anyway. Maybe take it off," I tease.

She groans, dropping her head back. “Walker, I’m being serious. What if I mess up? What if I completely bomb? Cami is counting on me. I amnotready. I just keep hearing the voices telling me I shouldn’t do this anymore.”

I reach out, plucking the guitar from her lap and resting it against mine. My fingers instinctively find the strings, a soft chord ringing out as I strum. It’s automatic and easy like breathing.

It always comes back to this. The weight of a guitar in my hands, the feel of the strings against my fingers. No matter how much I try to bury the musician in me, it never left. And right now, I feel like that part of me is waking up again, but not for me. For her. For Red. And for future artists.

“You’re not gonna bomb,” I say, nodding for her to watch my hands. “You just need to trust yourself. And the music.”

She huffs. “That’s easy for you to say. You’ve done this a million times.”

I shrug. “And you think I never got nervous?”

She hesitates. “Did you?”

“All the damn time.” I pluck a simple melody, letting the sound settle between us. “But here’s the trick. Half ofperforming is looking like you belong there, even when you’re freaking out inside. You have to practice putting on your poker face. Sometimes every damn time.”

She watches my fingers as I play, her bottom lip tucked between her teeth.

I pause and lean forward. “Look at me, baby.”

She does. Her eyes are still laced with worry, but there’s something else there, too.

God, those green eyes. I could drown in them if I let myself. And the worst part? I don’t think I’d fight it.

“You know this song like the back of your hand,” I say. “So, when you step up there, don’t think about everything that could go wrong. Just feel the music. Let your body move with it, keep your breath steady, and if you get lost, just come back to the rhythm. It’ll be there for you.”

She swallows. “And where do I look?”

I smirk. “Depends. If you wanna make ‘em swoon, pick someone in the crowd and sing like you’re telling just them a secret.”

Her brows lift, and she grins. “I guess I could dothat.”

“It works.” I grin. “If you’re nervous, pick a point above their heads. No one knows the difference.”

She nods slowly, rolling the advice over in her mind. Then she leans forward slightly. “And what about staying in tune?”

I can’t help it; I laugh. “Red, if you go off-key, just take a breath, regroup, and jump back in. No one’s gonna throw tomatoes at you… probably.”

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