Page 106 of Find You Again (Nashville Star 2)

Alabama scowls at the ticker headline being played on the Nashville Star—Secret Source Reveals Shocking Reason Alabama Forester Fled Fall Tour—and snaps off the television. She lies back against the couch, covering herself with a rumpled blanket half-spilled on the glossy tile, and closes her eyes.

She’s been back in Nashville for two weeks, spending Christmas on the couch, torturing herself with daily viewings of sleazy tabloid shows like Nashville Star On-Air. Not satisfied with viciously maligning celebrities in print, as of last month, the Star’s branched out and claimed the television business too. So far she’s learned that Griff Greyson’s been spotted at the Stillery with Mavis Banks, the Brothers Kincaid debuted a new music video; Dierks Bentley’s opening a new bar on Broadway.

Everyone’s moving on. Everyone but her.

Because she’s still stuck in the fucking past.

She couldn’t even go back to Clover. Griff ruined even that for her. Every time she closes her eyes, images of their time together play across her memory. That beautiful house, Griff’s arms holding her close, making music like it was the end of the world.

No.

Alabama shakes her head as if that will dissipate the memories. She can’t go there. Even if she still loves him. Her eyes bead with hot tears. Griff will never change. He’s still running from her.

She wipes her eyes, her gaze drifting to the big floor-to-ceiling windows showcasing the gorgeous skyline of Nashville.

She knows Griff’s out there, somewhere. They’re in the same city, only miles away from one another, but truly so far apart they may as well live on different planets. Today, he’ll be on a plane bound for Europe. She’s not upset about missing the tour; she’s upset about missing Griff. Upset about how she left things. She could have stayed and talked things through, but at that moment in time, Griff left her hurt and humiliated after Freddie’s reveal. And instead of calmly discussing it, she let her worst flaw—her temper—take over.

She hurled every awful thing she could say at him. This time, she wanted to be the one to walk away first, before he did, but it’s enough to make her wonder, would he have?

Alabama groans and buries her head in a pillow at the ringing of her phone. Faint, insistent chirping telling her to get up and move her sorry ass.

With a sigh, Alabama drags herself from her cocoon of blankets and goes to her small kitchen island, where the sound is coming from. She shuffles through bills and ketchup packets and finally finds her phone buried beneath her notebook full of songs.

She groans again when she sees who’s calling: Holly. No doubt ready to give Alabama a sternly worded talking-to.

“Hey, Hol,” Alabama says when she answers, her voice flat and dry.

Holly’s bright voice greets her. “How’s the self-pity going?”

“Oh, it’s definitely in the wallowing phase.” Alabama stares down into a melted carton of ice cream she’s had for breakfast. “With a side of gluttony.”

“Oh, baby, I wish I was there. You sound miserable.”

“Yeah, but I’m miserable with ice cream, does that matter?” She grimaces at the ice cream and, before she can pick up the spoon to really seal the deal on her woe-is-me party, dumps the carton in the trash. “On a good note, my check came yesterday.”

Holly whoops. “You got paid?”

“Yeah, I got paid,” she says with a humorless laugh. “Too much.”

“How much is too much?”

“Let’s just say I won’t need to sling hash at the tavern next year.”

The money had covered her legal bills and then some. Although she was barely able to cash it; Griff probably had Freddie cut her a fat check to get their last conversation off his conscience.

“That’s great, Al.” There’s a long silence, a clearing of her throat, then Holly says, “How about I raise your good news with some bad?”

Alabama pinches the bridge of her nose. “Lay it on me.”

“Griff’s house sold.”

“Oh.”

There it is. Now there’s nothing to tie Griff to her, to Clover anymore.

“Buddy Green was over there yesterday mornin’ takin’ down the For Sale sign.”

Alabama closes her eyes, her heartbeat a stabbing pain in her chest. “Holly.”

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