We’ve talked here and there in the two weeks since I’ve been gone, but it’s scarce at best. Mostly texts randomly throughout the day. Although, one night I was able to get him on FaceTime, but I suspect he was drunk and that’s why. I plan to talk to him as soon as I get home tomorrow, hoping like hell he doesn’t shut me out. I’d be lying through my teeth if I said I wasn’t worried we’ve gone about ten steps back.
“So, how’s he doing?” Chevy asks between bites, pulling me from my thoughts.
“Hmm?”
“Segan. Haven’t seen him in close to a decade. How’s he doing?”
It’s my turn to get the goofy grin. I bite my cheek to try to hide it, but it’s no use. “He’s doing really well. He’s recording his next album, and he’s so much happier than when he lived back home.”
The smile on his face is genuine. Chevy has always wanted so much more for Segan than what he allowed himself as a teenager. They were never super close, but he cared for both Lana and Segan, hating what that town and their parents put them through.
“You’re in love with him, aren’t you?”
His question catches me off guard, and now it’s my turn to choke on my beverage. “Excuse me?” Grabbing a napkin, I wipe the dribble off my chin, checking to make sure it didn’t land on my shirt.
“You heard me.” He laughs, popping a tater tot into his mouth. “You forget I was on call that night Segan came in.” His tone hardens, the smile leaving his expression at the memory ofthatnight. The one I thought I’d lost Segan. “You were distraught by his bed, Josiah.”
Scoffing, I say, “Of course, I was. I found him damn near dead. Anybody would be ups—”
“No,” Chevy cuts me off, holding up a hand. “You weren’tconcerned frienddistraught. Don’t you lie to me right now.” The smile returns, and he chuckles, lightening the mood a little. “You wereI think I may lose the love of my lifedistraught. There’s a difference. I’ve unfortunately seen enough of both to know.”
I sit there, stunned, not even knowing what to say. My chest tightens, and the blood roars in my ears. I’ve never breathed a word about how I felt about Segan to anybody, at least until I moved to Nashville and told Ash. But even then, I haven’t told them everything.
Meeting Chevy’s gaze, I ask, “Why did you never say anything to me about it before now?”
He shrugs. “It wasn’t until that night in the hospital that I noticed it, and then put all the pieces together,” he explains. “And that was hardly the time or place for that type of conversation. Then, you went back to Nevada, and we didn’t see each other again for at least a year. By then, it had slipped my mind.”
Replaying years of memories, wondering how obvious we were to other people, I’m still speechless.
“I’m right, though, aren’t I?”
I nod, not seeing the point of lying about it.
“Is that why you moved to Nashville?” he asks curiously.
“No.” I shake my head. “I mean, I knew he lived there and, of course, I had hoped to run into him, but it was never something I really thought would happen, nor was it a deciding factor.”
“So, you’re together?”
I down another gulp of my beer. “I don’t know what we are, to be honest. Segan is… complicated, and he’s been through a lot of shit in his life that makes it hard for him to let people in. Especially me.”
“I get that,” he says, empathy splashed all over his face. “It’s probably hard right now, too, with what’s going on with his mom. I’m honestly surprised I haven’t seen him back home at all.”
I cock my head, confusion coming over me. “Wait—what? What about his mom?”
Chevy frowns. “Did he not tell you?”
“Tell me what? He hasn’t talked to his parents since he left for Nashville.Thathedidtell me.”
All the color drains from Chevy’s face as he brings his beer up to his lips, gulping it down. Setting it on the table, his eyes lift, locking with mine. “Listen, I can’t say much because of HIPAA, but Segan really needs to get home and see his mom.”
I know he can’t tell me what’s going on, but I fucking wish he would anyway. Picking up my phone, I check to see if Segan’s messaged me since we sat down, but he hasn’t. My mind spins on what could possibly be wrong with his mom that he’d have to go home to visit her. And how the fuck am I supposed to drop that news on him?
He’s barely speaking to me as it is, and I have to go home and dropthatbomb?
By the time I make it back to my hotel room, I don’t even remember getting through the rest of our meal. I was on autopilot, trying to plan out how to best break this news and avoid him wiping his hands clean of me in the process.
38
