Total pages in book: 14
Estimated words: 13485 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 67(@200wpm)___ 54(@250wpm)___ 45(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 13485 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 67(@200wpm)___ 54(@250wpm)___ 45(@300wpm)
I scoff. “You’re delusional.”
“Yep.” He rocks back on his heels. “But you gotta be if you wanna win back the girl you shoulda never let go.”
His words land like an arrow through my chest.
“Please.” His eyes are pleading. “Five minutes. Less than that. That’s all I ask.”
I want to tell him to go to hell.
I want to follow him back inside so badly I can hardly breathe. How sad is that? There’s a saying that you should believe someone when they show you who they are.
Wes showed me he was a coward. A heartbreaker.
Chances are, he still is.
But there’s this tug in my gut—this doubt. Or maybe it’s confusion. Because the Wes I knew privately, before he hurt me, would try to change. He’d be open to it.
Eager for it, even.
Besides. I can’t just disappear on Quinn and Grady. I don’t want to ruin their night with my drama.
Speaking of Grady, he rounds the stop sign and appears in the parking lot. His brows snap together when he sees me with Wes.
“Y’all okay?” Grady asks.
“Fine,” I answer smoothly, nodding at the bar. “Let’s head inside.”
Chapter 5: Pants Feelings and Heavenly Healings
Josie
Holy.
Mother.
Of God.
I’m not sure what I was expecting to happen when I followed Wes and Grady inside. Would Wes make some kind of dumb speech? Maybe he’d make a toast, or ask me to dance. Really, I have no idea.
But the last thing I thought I’d see is him getting up on the stage and looping an acoustic guitar over his front.
Wes never played music in public. He always said it was because he wanted the spotlight to be on me. But now I know for certain it was because he was embarrassed. He didn’t want anyone to see the softer, artsy side of him.
Apparently that’s one thing that has changed.
I can only watch, my heart dissolving into a thousand tiny butterflies, as he leans into the microphone and starts to sing.
“I don’t have the voice of an angel, sorry it kind of sucks,” he sings, and everyone laughs. “But I had to get this off my chest, so try not to give any fucks.”
Oh, God, this is terrible. It’s the Adam Sandler–Riley Green mash-up no one asked for.
But then Grady lets out a hog whistle. Someone asks Wes if he’d feel better if she tossed her underwear his way.
Wait, was that my aunt?
Okay, now I’m smiling too. This is actually . . . kind of cute. Judging by the way Wes smiles as he strums his guitar, he knows he’s already got a captive audience.
“Grady and Quinn, I love y’all dearly, seeing you fall in love got me all teary. It’s made me think, it’s made me change, it’s made me want to rearrange.” Wes pauses. He holds my gaze, clearly terrified but looking me in the eye anyway. “Sorry, that lyric is half baked. Couldn’t think of a way to tie it up with a bow the way Josie does. Anyway.” He gives his guitar another strum. “Y’all know who you are, you know what you want, now I see I’ve been running, my life is a front. I’m missing out, I’m missing you, the mistakes I’ve made kept my dreams from coming true. I’ve watched a girl sing out her heart to sold-out stadiums worldwide. She puts herself out there. She soars, nothing to hide.”
Quinn grabs my hand. Glancing at her, I can tell by her shocked expression she didn’t know this was happening.
Pressure builds behind my eyes and inside my chest as Wes hits the chorus. “I’m begging you, please don’t ever stop, I’m begging you to let me hold your hand while you make it to the top. You’ve made us all ask life for more. What a beautiful gift from your first world tour.”
Wait.
Wait wait wait. Is Weston—
I mean, is the man I knew showing the world who he really is right now?
Quinn gives my hand a quick, hard tug. “You okay?” she murmurs in my ear.
I wave her away. I’m good.
I’m not good, of course. I’m . . . well, I’m something.
My pulse throbs in my ears as he keeps singing. He has us all laughing hard enough that I see some eyes glimmering with tears when he manages to rhyme pants feelings with heavenly healings.
His willingness to look stupid, absurd even, is incredibly endearing.
Jesus, does he look good up there. The sleeves of his button-up are rolled up to his elbows, revealing the thick forearms crisscrossed with veins that pop against his skin as he plays.
Part of me feels like I should be angry.
Really, really angry that he’s doing this in front of everyone. That he’s putting me on the spot out of nowhere after I haven’t heard from him in years.
I mean, this is Quinn and Grady’s night. But then I look at them beside me, and they’re both laughing. My brother keeps doing that annoying whistling thing, egging on Weston.