Page 24 of July's Bad Boy: Blaze

I frown, concerned about her sudden obsession with this helicopter and Ruby's friend, but too distracted to address it properly. "Olivia, maybe we should respect Ruby's privacy."

"Since when do you back down from uncovering the truth?" She gives me a puzzled look before hurrying off.

As the last vendors pack up, Blaze materializes beside me. "Let me walk you home."

The sun hangs low in the sky as we make our way through town. We don't talk much. Both of us are feeling the weight of the day. His hand brushes against mine once, twice, before he gently takes it, lacing our fingers together. I let him.

At my front porch, I turn to face him, suddenly shy after everything we shared the other night. He tucks a strand of hair behind my ear, and I lean into his touch despite my better judgment.

The moment shatters when his phone buzzes in his pocket. He glances at the screen, hesitates, then answers.

"Yeah?" His voice changes instantly, hardening into something I haven't heard before. Professional and distant.

I can hear the tinny voice on the other end and make out every few words.

"Tour's back on.... Open with Highway 55… PR clean.... You're needed.... We've got dates starting next week."

The words hit me like a physical blow. I step back, breaking contact with him, wrapping my arms around myself protectively.

Blaze's eyes widen. "I'll call you back," he says on the phone, then hangs up. "Grace--"

"If you're leaving, Blaze," I cut him off, my voice steady despite the storm inside me, "better you go now. I can't...."

"That's not--"

"Please." The word comes out sharper than I intended. I take a breath, soften my tone. "I need to be alone right now."

Before he can respond, I turn away and step inside, closing the door between us. I lean against it, sliding down until I'm sitting on the floor, tears falling silently down my cheeks.

Through the window, I can see his silhouette on my porch, looking down at the phone in his hand, clearly torn. But I've been left before. I know how this story ends.

And I won't survive it happening again.

CHAPTER 9

BLAZE

My phone vibrates for the fifth time in twenty minutes. I don't need to look at it to know it's Vince, my manager, blowing up my notifications with tour dates, venue capacities, and projected ticket sales. The numbers are big. Career-defining big.

I stare out at Shane's horses grazing peacefully in the morning sun, completely unbothered by my existential crisis.

"You gonna answer that?" Shane asks, leaning against the porch railing, coffee mug in hand.

"Eventually."

"Important?"

"Tour offer." The words feel strange coming out of my mouth. "Fifteen cities with Highway 55. Starting next week."

Shane nods slowly. "Sounds like what you've been waiting for."

"Yeah." I should be elated. This is exactly what I came to Mustang Mountain to prepare for--a career resurrection. So why does the thought of leaving feel like someone's slowly pulling my organs out through my throat?

Grace's words from last night echo into my head: If you're leaving, better you go now.

Her eyes had been so clear, so resigned. Like she'd known all along this moment would come.

My phone buzzes again. Vince again. Silencing it, I slide it into my pocket.

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