Page 42 of Stormswept Colorado

Ashford and I had a strong relationship now, but he was so busy with his family. Grace and Dane were also incredible friends, and Dane had even more resources at his fingertips than I did. But I didn’t feel comfortable sharing my deepest insecurities with them.

Could I share those things with Teller?

I still didn’t completely understand why Teller was so willing to help me. But I trusted that he didn’t have any secret motives.This was not a man who cared about social media exposure or getting his demo in front of a producer. He cared about the people in his community. His nephew and sister. He cared about being a good man.

You don’t have to be anyone with me except for yourself.

I rested my head against the glass to watch the snow. It fell in perfect snowflakes that collected below the window. Tiny crystalline structures, each one unique.

“I used to love when it snowed when Lori and I were kids.”

“Yeah?”

I picked up my shake and took a sip through the straw. Creamy, pepperminty goodness hit my tongue. The cold of the ice cream and brightness of the mint perfectly offset the richness. “Lori used to save her lunch money all week and buy a mint chocolate chip ice cream sandwich on the way home from school on Friday. We always shared it. She didn’t even like mint, but it was my favorite.”

“A good big sister.”

“She was.” Guilt poked at my heart, but it was an old feeling. A sadness that never fully went away.

“Where were you living then?”

Did he already know I’d been an Army brat and moved around a lot? That was a well-known part of my bio, though I never shared many details about it. “Our family lived on a lot of different bases over the years. You were a Green Beret, right?”

“Yes.”

“You were wounded.”

“I was. Received a medical discharge and came back to Colorado.”

Suddenly my throat went tight. I didn’t want to bring up bad memories for him, and I didn’t want to get into my own. This was why I didn’t usually talk about Lori or our childhood.

I’d been trying so hard to stay cheerful. To act like I was okay. But Teller made me want to open up about how frightened I was, andthatonly scared me more.

I needed my music. My safe space. “Um, I started writing a new song this afternoon. Do you mind if I work on it now? Would that be weird?”

His eyebrows lifted. “Not at all.”

Ineverdid this. Sharing a half-finished song with someone I didn’t know well. While I had no problem singing in front of a stadium of thousands, sharing my creative process was different. Even with other songwriters I collaborated with, I liked to have a clearer vision in place first. But there was too much swirling around inside me, and I needed to channel it.

Somehow, I felt safe doing that with Teller here. Like he could be a safe space too.

Besides, we were stuck together for the next few hours. Couldn’t exactly ask him not to listen.

Reaching into the backseat for my messenger bag, I pulled out my laptop. I’d had it plugged in earlier, so it was all charged up. I opened it, using my fingerprint to unlock the screen. The songwriting software program was already open.

“Here’s what I have so far.” I pressed play, and the program played back what I’d composed earlier. I hummed along, then played it again while singing the few lyrics I’d come up with.

“It’s incredible. Really.”

I glanced over at Teller, feeling my skin heat. This was why I didn’t normally share a song so early. I’d written hundreds, yet every single one came from my heart. It was a vulnerable place to be in. The praise felt good, but it was intense too. Like the sun shining straight down on me. It could easily burn.

“It has a long way to go.”

“I’m sure it’ll be amazing when you’re finished.”

The corner of my mouth inched up. “Maybe you’ll want to add it to your workout playlist.”

He laughed quietly with his lips closed. “You got me there. I probably will.”

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