Page 87 of Need You Now

“Jesus,” Seth laughs and slaps the leg of his jeans. “Ludacris, Nirvana, Garth and Graham.”

“Oh, my word, the variety,” Emmy Lou trills.

“One thing that trip did was get the fuckin’ press off your back.” Jace shakes his head. “Man, that article was some bullshit.” His eyes flick to Luke. “Now all that’s in the paper is you movin’ to California or Beau bein’ the next best thing in the Brothers Kincaid.”

At the mention of Beau, Luke scowls, raising his beer to his lips and draining it. “As far as I’m concerned, Beau never even happened.”

Sal’s eyes widen in Luke’s direction. Luke being an outright hard-ass is rare.

Lacey takes a sip of her whiskey, stealing a glance at Seth.

But he isn’t looking at her. He’s looking into his whiskey, his face anguished. Haunted. His shoulders tense. The mention of the article’s dragged up his guilt. His mistake. The conversation with Luke he’s been dreading.

Her breath stalls in her chest.

Seth losing his smile is like sunshine dropping behind a mountain.

Needing to say something to direct the attention off Seth, Lacey disentangles from Sal and sits up straight. She takes a breath and channels her inner ice bitch. “I’m sure you all heard I got mugged.” Lacey crosses her arms as all eyes slide to her. She stares at Alabama. “Out in California.”

Alabama flushes red. “I didn’t mean—”

Lacey waves a hand. “It’s okay. I did get a pretty gnarly scar.”

Griff leans forward, tapping his own scar that runs from the corner of his left eye to his mouth. Almost unnoticeable, except in the right light. “Yeah?”

“Here we go.” Emmy Lou groans. “Men and their scars.”

Griff’s mouth curls up. “Well, let’s see it, California.”

Her eyes narrow.

It’s some kind of dare. Like he’s trying to egg her on. Or sniff her out. Who she is. Her dislike of Alabama. That or just fuck with her.

And Lacey’s never been one to lose a challenge.

She takes a steeling breath, trying to ignore that sharp edge of panic and anxiety. She reminds herself there’s no mugger here. She’s safe in Nashville with her sister and Seth beside her.

“Fine,” she says, with a toss of her hair.

Sal sighs, setting her glass on the edge of the firepit. “You don’t have to do that, Lace.”

She smiles, mouth dry. “I don’t mind. Really.”

After daring a glance at Seth, whose face has gone dark, Lacey grabs the hem of her sweater, bracing herself as she pulls it up. She knows what they’ll see. A puckered red vertical line right above her hip bone. She used to think it ugly. But now, it’s a piece of her. There’s power in showing it off, in talking about it.

“Oh, man.” Griff whistles. Beside him, Alabama’s biting her lip. “Damn, California, you nearly got gutted.”

Lacey traces a path down the scar with her finger. “I guess it’s my one claim to fame, huh?”

Sal sucks in a ragged breath. “Oh, Lace,” she breathes, mild horror on her face. She leans down, her brow knotting as she inspects the damage. And then she bursts into tears.

Everyone freezes, surprised by the unexpected outburst.

Lacey yanks her shirt down. “Sal.”

Luke winces, stretching out a hand. “Darlin’—”

Sal covers her face. “I’m sorry,” she whispers, shooting to her feet and rushing into the house.

---