Page 112 of Find You Again (Nashville Star 2)

All she can do is nod.

All she can do is silently follow Griff back to the recording booth. They enter the private room, padded with foam sheets and blackout curtains. Alabama and Griff lean back against opposite walls to face each other. She doesn’t trust herself to move, to breathe.

Griff whisks his hands together. “We got an hour of time.”

Alabama arcs a brow. “If you think I’m cuttin’ a song with you when you’re playin’ mum, you got another thing comin’.” She crosses her arms. “Why am I here, Greyson? Talk.”

“Okay, okay. Damn.” A devilish gleam flashes in his eyes. “First things first—I ain’t doin’ the tour. I walked away from Freddie yesterday.” He gives a one-shoulder shrug. “Did you know there was an insurance clause in my contract givin’ me that right? Think I even knew somethin’ was fishy back then.”

The room spins. “Are you crazy?” She pushes off the wall, stunned at his casual attitude. “You torpedoed your career, Griff. You were where you wanted to be. You finally had everything. You finally ...”

She trails off.

Griff’s shaking his head.

“I wasn’t where I wanted to be, Al.” He gives her a pointed look. “I was on that bus and all I could think about was how you should be there, beside me. Doing all this without you don’t feel right.” He lasers his eyes to hers. “It’s never felt right. And I sure as shit didn’t have everything.”

He strides forward, moving so close to her she can feel the heat radiating from him. He reaches out to palm her shoulder. “I did a shitty thing makin’ that bet with Freddie. For not tellin’ you what was up in the first place. I never shoulda done that. I was wrong, Alabama. So damn wrong. And I’m sorry.”

Alabama holds Griff’s regretful stare. She nods, accepting his apology. An apology that means everything. “Thank you,” she whispers.

“And I know you’d probably be better off without me, but I can’t do it.”

“Can’t do what?”

“Can’t walk away again.”

Alabama closes her eyes and presses herself back against the wall for support. Unsure if her legs will hold, unsure if she can keep her hands to herself.

“I ain’t makin’ that same mistake.” Griff’s voice is thick with emotion. “I know what I want. And I know that I don’t want to do this without you anymore.”

Alabama opens her eyes. Griff’s handsome face holds a promise, a sliver of something she can’t help but hope for, but want with every bone in her body. “What’re you saying, Griff?”

“I’m sayin’, let’s start over, together.” He reaches for her hand and gives her a smile that lights up the entire room. “I got nothin’ if you’re not right there with me.”

They’re the words she wants, the words she’s craved since he left Clover. And they’re better than any song, because Griff’s the better—the best—man for her. Her chest heaves as she takes a shuddery breath, unable to help the tear that’s slipped down her face. “Griff.”

“Now I know I got a lot to make up for, but I’m workin’ on it.”

Her lips curve. “You are, are you?”

“I’m tryin’.” He squeezes her hand, tangling fingers and angles his body to hers. “Like for starters, I called your daddy.” Alabama’s eyes widen, but he goes on. “He ain’t happy about it, but he didn’t give me too much grief when I asked him if I could marry you. I think he figures he owes you one.”

“What ... ?” She stares at him, her throat so knotted up she can’t speak. Can’t breathe. Can’t do anything but gape at Griff.

“Oh,” he says nonchalantly. “And I kept my mama’s house.”

“You did?”

“It’s ours,” he says softly. “If you want it.”

Ours. The word steals her breath and jump-starts her heart at the same time.

She shakes her head, but she’s smiling. “What’re you thinkin’, Greyson?”

“I’m thinkin’ we keep it for summers, for holidays, for whatever. For when we go back to Clover, together.” He wipes away a tear from her cheek. “We do it right this time.”

Her voice breaks. “Oh, Griff.”

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