Page 58 of The Rebel with Broken Strings
As their lips collided again, everything else faded away into the background and she became lost in the moment, completely consumed by his touch…and his worth.
* * *
Seated in the dimly lit recording booth later that evening, Gunner’s heart was pounding in rhythm with the faint metronome ticking in his headphones. They’d run through the song, over and over again, and he’d repeated sections that the producer wasn’t happy with. He adjusted the mic again, tilting it slightly downward to capture the raw emotion he knew would pour from his lips. With a slight nod to the producer behind the glass, Gunner signaled his readiness.
This is it, he thought, the moment that could make or break everything. His gaze flickered briefly to the couch where Aubrey sat, her presence comforting. Gunner’s fingers tightened around the lyric sheet, the paper crinkling softly.
“Alright, Gunner,” the producer’s voice crackled through the headphones. “Whenever you’re ready.”
Gunner closed his eyes, drawing in a deep breath. The scent of polished wood and leather from his boots grounded him, reminding him of home, of Timber Falls and The Naked Moose. Of Aubrey.
This song is for her, he realized.For us. Every word, every note—it’s our story.
As the intro began to play, Gunner opened his eyes, locking on to Aubrey’s gaze through the glass. Her eyes mirrored his own, a swirl of hesitation and hope that matched the turmoil in his chest. Hope that this was the beginning of them making this work.
The first notes left his lips, his voice husky and tinged with longing. Each lyric felt like a confession, a piece of his soul laid bare for Aubrey and the world to hear. He poured every ounce of his being into the performance, determined to prove that he was more than his past mistakes, more than a washed-up country star looking for redemption.
As he sang, memories flooded his mind—their passionate night in Atlanta, the warmth of Aubrey’s smile at The Naked Moose, the way her eyes lit up when she laughed. But with those sweet recollections came the bitter taste of his struggles, the weight of the addiction that had nearly cost him everything.
Never again, he vowed silently, his voice rising with renewed conviction.I’m done running. I’m done hiding.
The final chorus approached, and Gunner felt a surge of energy course through him. This was his moment of truth, his chance to show Aubrey—and himself—that he was capable of change, of love, of building something real and lasting.
As the song ended, he opened his eyes. His breath came in short gasps, his heart racing as if he’d just run a marathon. Through the glass, he saw Aubrey’s eyes glistening with unshed tears, and he knew.
This was their beginning.
Gunner only looked away when he caught sight of the producer nodding along enthusiastically. The man’s fingers danced across the soundboard, adjusting levels with practiced ease. A crackle in Gunner’s headphones, and the producer’s voice came through:
“That’s it, Gunner! Keep that energy. We’re capturing gold here.”
Gunner’s lips quirked into a half smile, his confidence surging. The final chorus approached, and Gunner felt a surge of energy course through him. As the late note faded, his opened his eyes.
He locked eyes with Aubrey once more, drawing strength from her presence. He’d given everything to that performance, laid bare his hopes and fears. Now, all he could do was wait, the future hanging in the balance between two worlds he longed to unite.
The last chords hung in the air, resonating through Gunner’s body as he slowly removed the headphones. His hands trembled slightly, adrenaline and raw emotion coursing through him. He stepped out of the booth, his eyes immediately seeking Aubrey’s.
There she was, her eyes shining with pride and something deeper, something that made his chest tighten.
“Darlin’,” he drawled softly, his voice still husky from singing.
“That was absolutely incredible!” The producer’s enthusiastic voice cut through the moment. The man’s face was split with a wide grin, his hands gesticulating wildly. “Gunner, you’ve outdone yourself. The emotion, the depth… It’s like you reached into your soul and pulled out pure gold.”
Gunner felt a flush of pride mixed with humility. “I appreciate that, sir.”
The producer clapped him on the back. “No, you don’t understand. This isn’t just good, it’s career-defining. The way you captured the longing, the struggle, it’s universal. Everyone who’s ever been torn between two worlds is going to feel this in their bones.”
As the producer continued to gush, Gunner’s gaze drifted back to Aubrey. She gave him a small, knowing smile that spoke volumes. He thought,She knows. She feels it too. This song, it’s our story.
The producer’s voice faded into the background as Gunner’s mind raced. He’d poured his heart into that song, opened up about his struggle to choose between Nashville and Timber Falls, between ambition and love. And now, with success potentially on the horizon, the choice loomed larger than ever.
Gunner extended his hand to the producer, his grip firm yet humble. “I’m grateful for the opportunity and your guidance.”
The producer shook his hand enthusiastically, his eyes twinkling. “Son, with talent like yours, my job’s easy. You just keep bringing that raw emotion, and we’ll make magic. We’ll work on this and get it to you when we’re done.”
Gunner nodded in agreement.
As the studio team began to pack up, he made his way over to Aubrey. She stood from the couch, her smile bright.
