CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
ThreeHours Earlier
Devin
Ididn’t have a planwhen I landed in Providenceand I kicked myself on the hour-long cab ride back to River Canyon.
Becausewhen you fly approximately 1,400 miles over the span of eight hours, with twolayovers in less than desirable airports, solely to win back the girl, youshould really have a fucking plan.
Iasked the driver to drop me off at the apartment, instead of Black &Brewed. I spotted my truck in the parking lot, right where I’d left it a littleover a month and a half ago and immediately craved the freedom of being behindthe wheel. I reached into my pocket for the keys and then smacked my forehead,remembering I had left said keys at home.
“Fuckinghell,” I groaned, because the keys to my truck were also connected with thekeys to the apartment. I could just see them, hanging on that little hook nextto the door, and I shook my head.
Reachinginto my pocket, I pulled out my phone. The battery meter read that I was left witha whopping 2% after the long flight and car ride. I grumbled under my breathall about what fantastic luck I was having as I dialed Brooke’s number andprayed to the cellphone gods that I wouldn’t be left without a phone.
“De—”
“Areyou at B&B?” I hissed, keeping my voice low.
“Uh,yeah, D—”
“Donotsay my fucking name,” I warned, enunciating every word to ensure sherealized just how serious I was.
“O-kay,”she drawled, mocking me with her tone and I heard the passing of voices and adoor close. “I’m in the bathroom. What’s up and why are you calling me?”
“Listento me carefully. My phone is two minutes away from dying. I need you to getaway from the store and bring me keys, okay?”
“Keys?Any keys?”
“Yes,Brooke. Any fucking keys. Surprise me,” I deadpanned around a groan, shoving ahand through my hair. “The keys to my fucking house!”
“What?You’rehome?”
“I’lltalk to you when you get here. My phone is going to fucking die. Hurry up. Oh,and don’t tell anyone I called.” I hung up before she could respond and hopedto God she’dactually deliveron my request as myphone alerted me of its demise.
?
Thefirst thing she said after getting out of her car was, “Ugh, Ihateyourhair.” The spare key she had to the apartment dangled from one finger and Isnatched it from her before I gave her the chance to jump on me.
“JesusChrist,” she said, arms around my neck and my arms around her waist. “I’vefucking missed you,youasshole.”
“I’vemissed you too.” I let go and hurried for the door. “Come on, I need my carkeys.”
Together,we climbed the stairs to the apartment and I opened the door to the scent ofgirly candles and perfume. I sighed. It smelled like her, and it was going tokill me not to bury my face in her pillow.
“So,are you going to tell me why you’re not on tour?” Brooke asked, as I sat on thefloor to hug Eddie.
“OhGod, I’ve missed you, buddy,” I said, nuzzling my face against the squirmingblack ball of mush. His sandpaper tongue raked over my cheek and I had toresist the urge to do the same as I looked over my shoulder at her. “Wecanceled it.”
Lookingimmediately taken aback, she gave her head a little shake. “Canceledit?Why the hell would you do that?”
Ireluctantly stood up, much to Eddie’s dismay and I walked into the living roomto find my guitar. It wasn’t where I usually kept it and instead I immediatelyfound it on the couch. I took a glance into our bedroom, noting that my pillowwasn’t in its place, but on Kylie’s side of the bed instead. It held anhourglass shape, as though someone had kept their arms around it, and I foundmyself torn between wanting to smile and wanting to beat my head against thewall.
Shenever should’ve been allowed to sleep alone.
“Areyou going to answer me?” Brooke asked impatiently.
“It’snot what I wanted,” I said simply, before stepping into the room to grab someclean clothes.
