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“I hate hearing that, I really do. So . . . are you feeling well?”

“To be honest, I’m a bit knackered this morning, but I’ll be fine.”

“Well, if there’s anything you need, don’t be afraid to ask, okay?”

He tilts his head at me curiously, and my chest tightens with ache. Does the man really have no one looking out for him? Feeling that may be the truth of it, I muster a smile. “I hope you have a great show tonight.”

“Thank you.” His lips lift in an appreciative smile before he turns to grab his equipment from the van. I catch Easton’s gaze—which lingers on me briefly—before he turns back to help unload the wall of instruments. The second I step up to offer a helping hand, he speaks up. “Joel’s going to get you checked into the hotel. I’ll pick you up in an hour.”

“Sure you don’t want me to help?”

“We’re good,” he quickly replies before turning and striding toward the building, guitar case in hand. Turning back to Joel, he gives me an easy smile. “Want to catch up over breakfast?”

“I would love that,” I say, glancing back in the direction Easton left. Within minutes, Joel secured both Easton’s and my luggage in his hands and is rolling it toward a waiting SUV in the parking lot with me in tow.

“I see we’re traveling in style today.”

“Thank fuck for that,” Joel says.

“Do you get lonely driving the second van?”

“Hell no. I prefer it.”

“Are you having a good time at least?”

“For the most part, yeah.” He nods as he starts the SUV, a fond sparkle in his eyes. “I’m so fucking proud of him, Natalie. I didn’t think he was going to do it.” He turns to me.

“Nuh-uh, oh no, don’t credit me for that. He did it all on his own.”

Joel puts the truck into gear and shakes his head. “You know as well as I do, that’s bullshit.”

“Ha! And you know all too well that man doesn’t do a damn thing he doesn’t want to.”

“Well, somethingor someoneshined a light in the right direction,” he adds as I shake off his compliment, ignoring the bat shit flutter threatening in my chest.

THIRTY-THREE

“Stuck in the Middle with You”

Stealers Wheel

Natalie

“What the fuck?!” Easton barks as we fly past another sign on the interstate, and I try to decipher it, equally as confused as I was when we passed the last one. In the next second, Easton taps the brakes hard, lurching me forward before screaming out of his driver-side window. “Fucking idiot!”

Unsurprisingly, it’s the same sentiment he’s spouted toward every driver who’s come before the last. He braves a glance over at me, another car whizzing past us, coming dangerously close before darting into the next lane. “Did you see what the speed limit is?”

I scan the side of the highway for another sign and try to make sense of it. “I think there are four speed limits. It depends on the type of vehicle you’re driving and whether it’s day or night.”

“Are you fucking serious?”

I shrug. “I say go with the flow of traffic?”

Just as I say it, multiple cars blur around us as if we’re in a Formula One race.

“With the flow?!” Easton shrieks, his expression bewildered as I press my lips together to stifle my laughter.

“So, I’m guessingthisis the downside of having a driver most of your life?”

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