Their eyes widen. “The niece who—”
I nod. “Yup, the one who died.”
“Shit…”
“Yeah, so, I ran into him two mornings ago at the coffee shop.”
“Wait.” Ash holds up a hand. “Did you know he was here before moving here? I mean, you had to have, right? He’s basically country music’s version of Harry Styles. Everybody knows him.”
I knew this question was coming. “Yes, I knew he was here, but barely. I’ve never listened to his music, and I don’t follow his whereabouts.”
Not a total lie.
Truthfully, I’m shocked I never once caved and listened to his songs. I’ve wanted to so many times. And more times than I can count, I almost did. But our relationship was always so complicated, and I knew if I opened that door, it would be messy, and it would hurt. He was blocked on my Instagram for many years, because when he first got famous, I obsessed over following him, seeing what he was up to, how he was doing. If he was dating anybody. It was ten steps past unhealthy, so I blocked him.
That is, until I ran into him the other day. That opened the floodgates, and I’ve done nothing but watch his every move since.
Winter comes back with our drinks, and she takes our order, interrupting our conversation. But the minute she steps away again, Ash is back on me like white on rice. “So, was running into him a good thing? Or no?”
Taking a long sip of my Coke to avoid having to answer as long as possible, my stomach twists at all the shit between Segan and me. “It’s… fuck, I don’t know. Not really.”
Ash’s brows furrow. “How come? Did y’all have a falling out after she died?”
Like me, Ash comes from a very religious upbringing. They were born and raised smack dab in the middle of the bible belt, and their family was less than supportive when they came out as transgender and nonbinary in high school. From what they’ve told me so far, which isn’t too much, their experience is far worse than mine, but I’d be lying if I said we didn’t bond over our shit families when we first met.
They moved to Nashville when they turned eighteen, and according to them, it was the best decision they ever made.
I wince at the question because, like I said, it’s so much more complicated than that. “You could say that.”
They cock their head at me. “What aren’t you telling me?”
Laughing at that, I mutter, “A lot. Trust me, this isn’t an out-to-lunch type conversation. This is a bottle of whiskey and a bowl type of situation. It’s a… sticky situation.”
“Oh my gosh.” Ash’s eyes go wide as they sit forward. “You fucked him, didn’t you?”
“What?!” I croak, coughing on the sip I just took. “I did not!”
Ash nods their head slowly, eyes narrowed. “Mmhmm, sure, you didn’t. “
I roll my eyes, thankful that our food arrives to distract us. All conversation comes to a halt as we both dig in. I didn’t realize how hungry I was until just now. My mind spins on all things Segan while I eat, though, and I hate it. For many years, I allowed myself to be angry and hurt and bitter about everything that went down. Not only Lana’s death, and how I felt like Segan played a huge role in it, but also every single thing that happened between us that never should’ve happened. I beat myself up foryearsover how fucked up it all was.
Eventually, I had to make the decision to either move on and forget about him the best I could, or rot in misery for the rest of my life.
Just as I start to think I’ve avoided any more discussion about Segan, Ash wipes their mouth with a napkin and says, “Segan is performing at Uncle Nick’s this weekend. It’s kind of a surprise show. One of the bartenders told me about it. We should go.”
Uncle Nick’s is a cool dive bar in town. I’ve been a few times, and they always have live music on the weekends.
“Uh, no. I can’t do that,” I mutter. “That wouldn’t be a good idea.”
They laugh. “Oh, yes, you can. And you will.” Ash waggles their brows at me. “We’re going.”
Telling Ash about Segan was clearly a horrible idea.
Fucking hell.
19
SEGAN
