Page 17 of Trusting Blake
“Yes.”
There’s a pair of sunglasses in the center console that I make a lunge for, slipping them over my eyes, and then I glance at Blake and promptly swipe his baseball cap straight off his head. I shove it over mine, pull the bill down low, and bury my face in close to Bailey.
We crawl past crazy slowly, but it’s only because the road is so packed with people, equipment, and vehicles that Blake has to be careful not to hit anything. I peek around Bailey, examining the scene up close, and I think there’s no way these are all local paparazzi from Nashville. It’s obvious some of these reporters have followed Dad all the way out here from LA. His presence here is definitely big news.
Suddenly, Bailey is overcome with excitement at all this activity and such commotion. He shoves his nose out the open window and releases a series of gruff barks that grabs the attention of half the crowd. Heads begin to turn.
“Bailey, no!” I hiss, wrapping my arms around him and yanking him back into my lap.
Blake races to roll up the window and steps on the gas a little, and in a frenzy of panicked seconds, we clear our way through the thick of the crowd. There is a clear road ahead, straight to the Willowbank ranch. Bailey ceases his barking and licks my forehead. I can’t stay mad at him.
“That was less than ideal,” Blake says. “Do they know you’re in town?”
“I don’t know,” I reply, pulling off his cap. I think I’ll stick with the shades for now. “No one saw me arrive with my mom or my dad, so I think they might assume I’m still back home.” Leaning toward him, I position his cap back on his head for him.
“Hmm,” Blake murmurs, as though he’s thinking hard. “Maybe what you need is. . . a baseball cap of your own.”
A few minutes later, we arrive at the Willowbank ranch and wind our way up the dirt track toward the house. Up on the porch, my friends are already waiting. Savannah and Tori race down the steps and sprint over to the truck, while Myles casually saunters behind them. I didn’t realize how nice it would feel to see familiar, welcoming faces, rather than the tense expressions etched onto the faces of my family members. This is exactly what I need to cheer me up. No drama allowed.
“Mila!” Savannah squeals, breathless, as she dives into the backseat of Blake’s truck. Her strawberry blond hair is in a high ponytail that swings wildly around her shoulders in rhythm with her manic head movements, and as always, she’s wearing a pair of very odd, very unique earrings. Today, they are. . . mini hot dogs. “Are you okay? I’m so glad you got out of there! The past few days must have been so hard, but we’re all here now. We’re going to do something fun! What do you want to do? Please tell us and we’ll do it. Anything! Right, Blake? If Mila wants to visit. . . I don’t know – Disney World, for example – you’ll drive us there, right?Right?”
Even though it’s only been a couple of days, I realize how much I’ve missed Savannah’s sweet and fabulous babbling. It’s exactly what I need right now. And I also forgot how totally cool and upfront Tori is.
“Savannah, shutup!” Tori says with a lighthearted groan, shoving Savannah farther into the backseat so that she can climb in after her. The neon pink streaks in her dark hair shine under the sunlight. “Mila doesn’t want to take a ten-hour drive to see sweaty humans in absurd costumes and drink overpriced cokes.”
“But the fireworks! And Space Mountain!”
“No,” Tori rebukes. “People havediedon that ride. Did you know that? Anyway!” She settles into the middle seat and fixes her gaze on me, right as Bailey scrambles from my lap into the backseat to smother the two of them with wet kisses. “Hi, Mila. Are you okay?”
“I think so,” I say with a smile.
“She has her escape route out of that ranch sorted,” Blake comments, “but now she needs to figure out how to get around town incognito. We nearly just had a run-in with the paparazzi back there.”
“Tori, you’re hogging the backseat,” Myles mutters as he finally reaches the truck. “Move over so that Bailey’s favorite human can squeeze in. Hey, dude! It’s me!”
Tori rolls her eyes and scoots closer against Savannah so that Myles can join the two of them, Bailey spread out over the three of them, tail wagging, paws all over the place. Thank God I’m riding shotgun. I stretch out my legs to take advantage of the privileged space I have around me, and Blake eyeballs his cousins and Tori in the backseat.
“Myles, you’re sitting on my hand!” Tori whines at the same exact moment she receives a whack across the face from Bailey’s tail.
Myles smirks and says, “You mean your hand is touching my ass.”
“You guys!” Savannah pleads, gesturing for them both to be quiet. She grabs the back of my chair and leans forward, sticking her face near mine. “So, Mila. What would you like to do today? What will cheer you up?”
“Honestly?” I say as my lips curve into the only real smile I’ve had in days. “Just being with you guys is enough. But Blake does have a point.” I glance over at him, and he raises a brow. My smile only widens. “I need a new identity.”
8
The drive to Nashville feels a million times more exhilarating when you’re breaking the rules.
I should be tucked up at the Harding Estate, utterly isolated from the outside world, but yet I’m here in Blake’s truck with the windows down, my hair dancing in the breeze, country music at full volume as we speed down the highway toward the city. In the rearview mirror, I watch Bailey shove his head out the back window behind me, the wind ruffling his fur while Savannah retains a tight grip on his collar. Beside me, Blake drives with one hand on the wheel and one arm propped up on the door, and he’s singing along to the music, which is something he hasn’t done around me before. Usually, he just hums, but today he is in full performance mode, his voice a melodic undertone to the radio, but then there’s Tori in the backseat, who is trying to outdo him by singing even louder, except she can’t sing whatsoever, and Myles keeps begging her to shut up. She only sings louder, eyes closed and all, and I try hard to smother my laughter.
We have collectively decided that the best place for me to switch up my identity is none other than the mall, and Savannah is adamant that Opry Mills is the best one in the city, so under her strict instruction, that’s where we’re heading. We head through downtown while Bailey barks at random passersby on the streets, cross over the river, and then continue on the highway until I spot the looming mall ahead with what looks like a hundred football fields’ worth of parking lot space. Luckily, I have spent pretty much zilch over the past month despite constantly asking Sheri for more cash at my parents’ expense, so I have a nice stash of accumulated allowance that I can now run wild with even though my parents took away my credit card before I left for Fairview. When was the last time I was even in a clothing store? It worries me that I can’t remember.
“What about Bailey?” I ask as Blake turns into a parking spot in one perfect swing.
“Uncle Myles will take him,” Myles offers. “We’ll go for a walk and I’ll get him an ice cream cone, because there’s no way I’m goingshopping.Oh, and I’m starving, so I need to find myself a McMuffin or two.”
“You already ate an entire stack of pancakes for breakfast,” Savannah interjects.
