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Anyway, I wasn’t there that night because I needed a night to myself, so I got all of this secondhand from Zander. But, apparently, Presley made the connection while they were all around the dinner table and just sort of blurted it out.
Oh god. I don’t like where this is going.
Luckily, it was just the kids. Hendrix’s parents were in the kitchen.
Thank God.
But Asher happened to be there that night. Random, right?
Fuck my life.
Oh, and Lance and Tilly (that’s Hendrix’s mom) came in right at the tail end. So yeah, they know too.
My hands fly over the keyboard.
Is there anyone who DOESN’T KNOW?
When I hand it back to her, she actually looks up like she has to think about it for a minute. But then she laughs as I playfully smack her arm, my lip twitching in amusement.
She types significantly less this time, and when I get it back, I snort.
Not sure. Want me to go around and ask? Oh! How does this sound? “Sir, we’re conducting a poll. Were you aware of the rumor that our esteemed doctor and new bass guitarist engaged in coitus before the start of the tour? Yes or no?”
I roll my eyes but can’t contain the smile that spreads across my face. I don’t remember having this much fun with a friend in a long time. Aside from my sister, I don’t remember having an actual friend in a long time. Not since I got married.
As your doctor, I must insist you refrain from using the word coitus from here on out. It’s bad for your health.
When I hand it back to her, she bursts out laughing, but then sobers slightly as she begins to write again. Her eyes find mine, and there’s an emotion behind them.
Soon, she hands the phone back.
All joking aside, I want you to know this because I now consider you a friend, and I don’t keep secrets from my friends.
I see the way you and Hendrix look at each other, and I know how confusing being on tour can be for people. It’s easy to forget that real life exists outside this little bubble, and eventually, we will go back to that. So just make sure whatever you start here can survive when all this is over.
I read over her words at least twice.
She sees the way we look at each other? I mean, I’m sure how I look at him is obvious. I wouldn’t doubt that half the women in this stadium gaze at him with a mix of heat and adoration just as I do.
But has she caught him looking at me?
I think back to that moment when he was on stage. That heated gaze, the way our eyes met, and how that single glance made me feel more than anything I experienced in my entire marriage.
I swallow and nervously bite the corner of my lip as I type one last message to her.
You and I are most definitely friends. And I appreciate you looking out for me. But it’s a nonissue. Hendrix and I agreed to keep things professional during the tour. Also, he made it crystal clear that anything more than that would be a giant distraction, and he needed to focus. That’s basically “fuck off” in guy speak.
I can practically taste the bitterness in the words as I type them out and hand the phone back to her.
She takes her time reading my message, but her response is almost instantaneous.
Yeah, but remember how I said he’s a horrible liar?
Chapter Thirteen
HENDRIX
“They say nothing good happens after midnight. Clearly, they’ve never been to Nashville! Thanks for all the love,” Asher hollers into the mic as the crowd goes wild. “Good night!”
