"And besides, my phone died in Alabama. I couldn’t call him even if I wanted to."
And shehadn'twanted to. That much was obvious. But if nothing else, this explained why she'd never answered my second call.
Allie sighed. "But what did you expect? You sounded scared. And Iknowhow your mom is. You think I'd just give up because I couldn’t drive my own car?"
I felt my eyes grow misty at the thought of everything she'd done. "I knew you'd come if you could, but God, Allie, I'm so sorry. I shouldn't've asked you in the first place."
Now, I was literally wringing my hands. "It was incredibly stupid, and now, I'm worried you're gonna get in trouble."
She gave me a weak smile. "Did you just call me stupid?"
"No. I calledmestupid. For leaving that message, the first one, I mean."
"That wasn't stupid," she said. "Now, moving down here?Thatwas stupid."
I blew out a long, unsteady breath.Well there was that.
Her voice grew quiet. "But calling me to take you home? That was smart, like the smartest thing you've done all month."
I tried to smile.Home.
It was a funny word. Growing up, my mom was always moving from city to city, following this guy or that. Wherever she went, she took me with her – New York, L.A., Houston, and lastly, Nashville, where I'd met Allie.
Probably, I was lucky that my mom hadn't ditched me somewhere else along the way. After all, it's not like I had any other family to speak of.
No, the closest thingIhad to family was the amazing person sitting across from me. I'd known Allie for four years now – ever since that fateful day I'd walked out of my mom's Nashville apartment, never to return.
Since then, I'd barely seen my mom at all, not until just recently, after she'd begged for a second chance in a whole new city – this city, in fact.
I sighed at my own stupidity. I'd made a huge mess of everything.
But I didn't want to dwell it, not now, when there was at leastsomethingI could do for Allie. Regardless of what she'd told Jax earlier, she'd surely love a shower and a change of clothes.
But we'd need to hurry – and not only because of the truck. I glanced at my cell phone. It was two in the afternoon, and the drive would take at least ten hours. Plus, I'd need to swing by my mom's place to pick my stuff, assuming, of course, that she'd give it up.
I added up the hours. Even if we left by three, we wouldn’t reach Nashville until very early tomorrow morning.
Tomorrow was a Monday. I looked to Allie and asked, "When do you need to be back to work?"
She hesitated. "I, uh, don't."
"What?"
She sighed. "I was fired actually."
My stomach sank. "What, why?"
She waved away the question. "Long story. It's not important."
"It is, too," I insisted. "You were so excited to get that job. And you've only had it for what? A month?"
Allie was a huge country music fan, and had recently been hired as the personal assistant to some bigtime music producer. At the time, she'd been so excited that she could hardly contain herself.
And now, she was acting like it didn't matter?
I studied her face. I knew Allie. This mattered a lot more than she was letting on.
In a very soft voice, I asked, "What happened?"
