Page 7 of The Fangirl and the Crooner

“What is it?” I ask.

She blows out a harsh breath before offering me an apologetic smile. “They want to stay here. With us.”

“Here?” I ask.

They have the room, of course. Trace’s childhood bedroom sits empty. My stomach twists as I think about it, and I know what I have to do.

“I can find somewhere else to stay,” I say, my voice firm with the decision.

“What? No. I didn’t meanthat, Pressley. It’s just bound to be…awkward, and I’m worried about submitting you to that. I haven’t even talked to Trace, yet. He may insist on clearing a rental for the duration of their visit. In fact, I’m sure he will.”

“No,” I say, reaching over to cover her hand with mine. “It’s okay. Don’t worry about me. And you should insist they stay here if Trace tries to hem and haw over it. You need this time to reconnect with them. It could change everything for you, Keegan. You could start a new relationship with them as an adult. I’m sure Trace wouldagree once he sees the possibility of making one of your dreams come true.”

She’d never admit it, but I’ve seen the longing in her expression when she talks about her parents, even when she’s angry. They took care of her when she was growing up, feeding and clothing her, seeing to her education like any good parents should. But the emotional detachment and subsequent abandonment the second she went to college hurt Keegan. If they’re willing to heal those scars now, no one should stand in the way of that.

Not me.

Not even Trace.

Keegan deserves all the happiness in the world, and while she’s found her bliss with Trace and will soon marry him and start her own family, I know there’s a missing slice where her parents are concerned.

She needs this time with them.

Andshit, I need to find a new place to stay.

Chapter

Six

Bram

It’s Thursday, which means “family dinner” is tonight. It used to be a tradition for Trace and Willow to catch up and spend time together, but since Keegan and Gavin became part of their family, it’s become a larger gathering that often includes me, and when she’s in town, Pressley.

And since Pressley is here, permanently, and living with Trace and Keegan, I know she’ll be there tonight. I briefly considered making an excuse to miss it, but in the end, I decided against it.

What am I going to do? Miss every gathering that may include her? That would mean missingeverything.

Plus, it’s a small town. I can’t avoid her forever.

Trace’s words about forgiving and moving on echo through my mind, and now that I’ve had some time to really think about it, I know he’s right. Pressley made a mistake. No one’s perfect.

Andfuck, I miss her. I might have become a little disillusioned when she posted that video behind my back, but that doesn’t mean she’s not the person I came to know and like over the last several months. What’s done is done. There’s no changing it. Staying angry solves nothing.

And maybe tonight can be the first step to repairing our friendship.

With the decision made, I get ready for dinner. Once I’m dressed and looking presentable, I head out. I spend the entire drive giving myself a pep talk about mending fences and moving slowly. One night won’t fix everything between us, but accepting her apology and spending a pleasant, relaxing dinner together with everyone we love will start us moving in the right direction.

I see Willow’s green hatchback when I pull up the driveway, so I know I’m the last to arrive. Shutting off the engine, I take a few deep breaths before climbing out of the car. Icy January wind quickly chases up the back of my neck, so I slam the door and jog up to the house. Rushing up the steps, I knock before shoving my hands into the deep pockets of my jacket. Lifting my shoulders to protect my bare neck, I bounce on my feet until the door swings open.

“Hey, gorgeous,” I say, pausing for barely a second to kiss Keegan’s cheek as I hurry inside, getting out of the cold.

“Hey, yourself,” she replies, closing the door quickly before turning to face me. “I’m so happy you came.”

It’s a loaded statement. She thought I might beg offbecause of the drama between Pressley and me, and I won’t be admitting I considered it.

“Of course, I came. I was promised chicken enchiladas and coldcervezas,” I say with a wink.

Keegan laughs and waves me forward as she turns to head toward the kitchen. Chatter and laughter ring out as I turn the corner, and my eyes zero in on Pressley, her head thrown back as she laughs at something Gavin has said.

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