Don't Let the Music Die (The Storyhill Musicians Book 2)

by Annmarie Boyle

“For everything. For saying no. For not telling you about the baby. For losing nine years. Years we could have spent together.”

  “I still don’t understand.” He looked at her directly in the eyes. “But someone recently made me realize I should try to.”

  Her eyes widened. “You told someone?”

  Matt ran his fingers through his hair, rubbing a spot directly behind his ear. “Only Nick knows the details.”

  She stepped closer to him, wanting to close the gap, but knew to take it slowly. “You’re close with your bandmates.”

  He nodded. “They are my brothers.”

  “What did Nick say when you told him?” So much for not caring what other people thought. Baby steps, she reminded herself. Change doesn’t happen instantaneously.

  “That fear makes people do things they otherwise wouldn’t. And that sometimes love trumps mistakes—no matter how big the mistake.”

  “Huh. Grace just said something similar.”

  “Not surprising. Grace is always going on about the power of love.”

  She lifted her fingers to rub her clavicle and pulled them back. She wouldn’t let panic cloud this moment. “Love?”

  “Yes, Mac, love. I’ve loved you since the very moment I saw you, all nervous, walking into that new class in a new school. But I’m going to need a little more.”

  “I don’t have a grand gesture. And I can’t even offer you my heart because I gave it to you fifteen years ago and never got it back.”

  “So that’s what I’ve been carrying around.” The edges of his lips lifted upward. “Think of the late fees.”

  She smiled. “I don’t think hearts work like books.”

  “Well, that’s good, because at a quarter a day that’s,” he looked up to the ceiling, his mouth moving slightly, “I’d owe the library nearly fourteen hundred dollars.”

  “Wow, that’s some quick math.”

  “Proving I’m not just another pretty face.”

  Avery took three steps closer to the stage. “I’ve never thought that about you.”

  Matt arched an eyebrow. “What about that day in the park? With the job offer?”

  “That was about me, not you.”

  Matt bit his bottom lip, sucking it under his front teeth. “You sure?”

  “Matt, all of this has been about my fear—and my misunderstanding about my parents’ marriage.”

  He paced the edge of the stage. “Misunderstanding?”

  “Will you come down here?”

  “Don’t like looking up at me?”

  At least his lame attempts at humor hinted that he wasn’t immediately going to dismiss her—and maybe that he was softening a little.

  “I want you to look into my eyes when I explain.”

  He jumped down from the stage. Lucky it wasn’t a sunken pit. He walked toward her, and she made up the difference, reaching for his hands. He didn’t pull away. Another good sign.

  “First, I want you to know that I figured out I put fear ahead of us. And I came here to tell you I’m putting us ahead of fear.” A nervous laugh gurgled out of her. “Well, maybe it’s closer to 50/50, because I’m scared out of my mind that I might lose you again.”

  “This seems like it’s going to take some time,” Joe yelled from backstage, “we’re going to get some lunch at Wheezy’s. You want anything?”

  Matt squeezed his eyes shut. “Joe, why is that you always have such impeccable timing?”

  “Well, if people in this group could dial down the drama, I wouldn’t have to keep interrupting.”

  “Do you want anything?” Matt asked her.

  “Pitcher of margaritas?”

  Matt laughed. “Another rare sighting of Mac humor?”

  “Yes?”

  “Get two number threes, one without tomatoes,” Matt yelled over his shoulder, his eyes never leaving hers. “And get out.”

  Avery listened until the footsteps faded away. “Can we sit?”

  Matt dropped into a chair a row in front of where Amy-Lynn stood. It was his only defense against touching her. He’d heard what Nick had said yesterday, and he’d been doing a lot of thinking.

  He just wanted to forgive her and haul her into his arms. But. He needed a few things from her first. He needed to hear her out when anger and disappointment weren’t raging through him.

  Amy-Lynn followed suit and plopped into a chair, pulling her legs up underneath her. “Ask me anything. Whatever you need to know.”

  He pushed his fingers through his hair, tugging at the roots before turning his eyes on her. “Why are you here?”

  “To ask for forgiveness and to ask for another chance.”

  “Not because of the show?”

  “What?” Her voice rose in incredulity, but softened. “No. Not because of the show. Yes, it would be awkward to explain to Celeste why you’re not finishing your contract. But, for once, I’m not worried about my job—or what it means to Momma and Jess. I’m here solely for us.”

  “You didn’t have to tell me about the pregnancy. Why did you?”

  “Because I couldn’t start something with you again and have this secret hanging between us. And, mostly, because you deserved to know.”

  “I deserved to know then.”

  “I know. And trust me, I’ve lived with years of overwhelming guilt. But Momma helped me see I can’t change the decisions I made then. All I can do is try to right my wrong by being honest with you now.”

  He nodded. The words sounded good, but . . . “I told you on Friday that I might be able to forgive you, but how do we rebuild trust?”

  Her eyelashes fluttered, and he realized she was trying to hold back tears. “It sounds cliché, but one day at a time, I guess. If you give us a second chance, I commit to honesty. It’s not like I ever wanted to lie to you. There was no conspiracy. In my twenty-two-year-old head, I really thought I was protecting you. I was helping you achieve your dreams, but . . .”

  “But?”

  “But I realize now that I was protecting myself. I never ever wanted to be a burden again. I loved you so much that I felt like curling into a ball every time I thought about you resenting me, resenting our baby. I couldn’t do it.”

  “It doesn’t make sense to me, Mac. You knew I loved you. I was ready to marry you.”

  She stood and paced the aisle. “I know. But my mom and dad. Losing my dad so young. I believed I was to blame for all of it. Their marriage. His death.” The tears started in earnest, dripping down her cheeks.

  Damn it. He couldn’t just watch this. He stood and pulled her into his chest. He didn’t have words. But he could hold her. Even if they didn’t get back together, she’d been alone through too many hard times, and he wouldn’t let that happen again.

  She pushed back against his chest. “No, no. I’m not done yet. There’s more.” She walked back across the aisle and fished a tissue from her handbag. “I made an appointment with a therapist. I see her for the first time on Monday—after the show. I did it for me. But I also did it for us. I needed to show you I’m serious about dealing with my issues.”

  “Is there anything else you’re not telling me?”

  “That’s the only thing. I know my words may not mean a lot right now, but I’ve got nothing to lose at this point. Momma knows. I told Jess this morning. And you know. You either give me a second chance or you don’t. I’m prepared to live with either decision.”

  “Either way, there’s a pitcher of margaritas in your future?”

  Avery let out a tremulous laugh. “Close. Momma’s key lime pie.”

  Matt groaned. “It might be worth it to get back together just for Isabel’s key lime pie.” He smiled and it slipped away. “If we agreed to take another go at this, I leave for tour in four days. Will that freak you out?”

  “I think you know by now that was never the real issue.”

  “You made me doubt myself.”

  Avery straightened in her seat. “I will take the lion’s share of blame for the way our
relationship ended, but not that. No one can make you doubt yourself except you.”

  Matt grimaced. He’d had the same thought last night. He knew he was falling back on old excuses. Deflecting instead of dealing with his issues head-on. She hadn’t made him doubt himself, but her rejection did rub salt in the wound.

  “Matt,” she said, breaking into his thoughts. “I didn’t believe in myself, but I always believed in you. I didn’t know how much all this bothered you. I thought you knew I was teasing when I called you my golden boy.”

  Matt sighed. “How is it we knew so much about each other, but failed to recognize how much the other one was struggling with this shit?”

  “I suppose we tried to hide it from each other, always wanting to show our best side to the ones we loved the most. There’s not many people who fall in love at sixteen and are still in love at thirty-one.”

  “No, I suppose not.”

  “Are you?” she asked.

  “Am I what?”

  “Still in love with me?”

  “Love has never been the issue.”

  “No, I suppose not.”

  They sat in silence for minutes until she rose from her seat.

  “I suppose I should go. I came here to say my piece, and I’m grateful you let me. See you at the studio tomorrow?”

  “Before you go,” he said, grabbing her wrist.

  “Yes?” she turned to him, undisguised anticipation in her eyes.

  “Let me get your sandwich.”

  “Oh, okay,” she said, her voice falling.

  He ran up the stage stairs, taking two at time and skirted around tables and cables to the green room. He pushed through the door, and all the chatter stopped.

  “You get things settled?” Nick asked.

  “You got our sandwiches?” Matt asked, ignoring Nick’s question.

  Joe pushed two packages wrapped in white butcher paper to the end of the table.

  “Thanks.”

  “Mattie?” Andrew called after him. “We’re knocking off for today, so you’re free to do—whatever.”

  “Okay, sure.” If only he knew what he wanted to do.

  He re-traced his steps back to Amy-Lynn. “Here you go,” he said, holding out the sandwich that read “No Toms.”

  She took it. “Thanks.”

  “Can’t have you going hungry.” He wanted to tell her so many other things, but the words wouldn’t come.

  “So tomorrow?”

  He nodded. “I’ll be there.”

  “Okay.” She turned up the aisle.

  “Mac?”

  “Hm?”

  “Thanks for coming today.” His words couldn’t have been any lamer if he tried.

  She moved to the edge of the aisle. “Thanks for listening. I guess I should go.”

  “I’ll see you tomorrow, Mac. We’ll talk more then.”

  She nodded and walked up the center aisle. He wanted to call after her but thought better of it.

  “She’s leaving.”

  Matt turned to find Grace standing next to him. “Yep.”

  “Why?”

  “I need some time to think.”

  “I get that, but if I might offer some unsolicited advice?”

  “Can I stop you?”

  Grace laughed. “Probably not. I’m not sure how it happened, but I feel like I’ve become the Storyhill den mother.”

  “We should be so lucky,” he said, imbuing the statement with as much vintage Matt Taylor charm as possible.

  “It’s a good thing I’m not affected by that smile.”

  He laughed. “Your advice?”

  “When Jax died, I really believed I’d never get a second chance at love. And I almost didn’t. I almost let the specters of the past color my future.”

  “Meaning?”

  “Meaning you can’t change the past.” Grace tapped his left pec right over his heart. “But if your heart tells you she’s the one, there are very few things you can’t work out. The key is that you’re committed to working things out. Today and tomorrow. Together.”

  Matt nodded, taking in her words.

  “And Mattie?”

  “Yes?”

  “I’ve never seen a woman that much in love. If you don’t feel the same way, let her know as soon as possible. Give her the gift of being able to move on.”

  Move on. Why did those two words pierce his heart?

  “You ready, babe?” Andrew said, slinging an arm around Grace’s shoulders. “Or do you need to stare at the door with Mattie for a while longer?”

  “I wouldn’t get too cocky, Cowboy. I’ve heard the stories of you mooning around practices not too long ago.”

  Matt chuckled. “Truth.”

  “Engaged two weeks and you’re already turning on me, Gracie?”

  Matt looked at the newest member of his family. “Your title is getting long. Songwriter, clairvoyant, den mother, and ego manager,” he finished looking at Andrew.

  “You good?” Grace asked Matt, lightly placing her hand on his arm.

  Matt nodded. “I’ll get there.”

  “Think about what I said,” Grace said.

  He nodded and watched Andrew and Grace walk up the aisle, disappearing through the same door Amy-Lynn had just exited.

  He collapsed into a chair and scrubbed a hand through his hair.

  Should he have stopped her from leaving?

  Should he have told her he wanted to try again?

  Trust could be rebuilt, right?

  He leaned forward and his head fell into his hands. Nick said to give her another chance. Grace, too. And his heart was certainly on board.

  He felt terrible. She’d come here and poured out her heart, and he’d given her a sandwich. What an idiot.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Avery paced the studio. It was 5:45, and Matt wasn’t here. Had he changed his mind?

  “Avery, love,” Ajay said through the speakers, “you’re going to wear a hole in the carpet.”

  “Sorry,” she mouthed through the glass that separated them and forced herself into her chair. But what to do? Everything was exactly the way she liked it.

  She stared at the pens to her right. Always the same colors, always in the same order. Damn it, she was so tired of her careful life. Yes, she dealt with anxiety, but if the last few days had taught her anything, it didn’t have to define her. She could manage it, even use it to her advantage, but she didn’t need to fear it.

  She moved the green pen to the left side of the console and then laughed. This would not be what Jess would define as “living the technicolor life” but decades of behavior didn’t change overnight. So, moving the pen it is. Baby steps.

  “Avery, you okay?” Ajay said into her headphones

  Was she? She checked in with her body. She felt free. Free from the past. She wanted Matt in her life, but she also knew—in her bones—that if he didn’t want her, she would survive.

  She had Momma and Jess and Wyatt. And she had a new understanding of who she was. Flawed, but whole. A little broken but loved. She would heal.

  “Avery?” Ajay repeated.

  “Yep. Okay.”

  “Good, because I’m not accustomed to you pacing, followed by laughing. I thought maybe you’d finally cracked.”

  Two weeks ago, that comment would have unsettled her, as if people thought she couldn’t handle the job. But now she knew he was teasing her—because he cared.

  Yep, she had her family. And Ajay. And Celeste. All people who respected and cared for her. People she knew would keep loving her, even if she told them all her ugly truths. And it was time she let them know. Time she let them in.

  Ajay was correct. She had finally cracked. Cracked open. These past three weeks with Matt helped her see her walls were unnecessary and she’d be forever thankful.

  She hit her talk back button. “Hey, Ajay, thanks for always caring. In case you don’t know, I love you.”

  His mouth fell open, and he gaped at her through the glas
s. “Like a brother?” he said, finally regaining his composure.

  She chuckled. “Yes, like a brother and like the best damn producer in the business.”

  She thought she saw a tinge of pink blossom on his dark cheeks.

  She glanced at the clock. “Should we get started?”

  “But Matt’s not here,” he said, eyeing the empty chair.

  “I’m here. I’m here,” Matt said breathlessly, sliding into his chair and slapping on his headphones.

  He was here. And she was thrilled. Because she hadn’t scared him off. And because she’d been ready to go on without him. Look at her rolling with the punches.

  He met her gaze. “I’m sorry I’m late, but I had some business to attend to.”

  Her eyes narrowed. “Before 6 a.m. on a Monday?”

  He smiled. A full force Matt Taylor smile. God, how she’d missed that smile. She couldn’t help but return it and notice the way her stomach flipped and squeezed when he said, “Yep” and winked at her.

  “On in fifty-nine seconds,” Ajay announced.

  She pushed down the talk-back button, still holding Matt’s gaze. “You mean sixty seconds?” She turned her head to her producer to see his mouth hanging open. Again. She cocked her head and shrugged, smirking.

  “Baby steps,” she said, turning back to Matt. She knew that anxiety wasn’t something that disappeared overnight. Or ever. But she was committed to thriving alongside it.

  “Good for you, Mac,” Matt mouthed.

  “Twenty seconds,” Ajay said, punching the even number.

  She laughed. Ajay was testing her. Because he believed in her. Because he was her partner.

  She pulled up her mic slider. “Good morning country fans and welcome to a brand-new week.”

  She looked up at Matt and hoped it was also a brand-new beginning.

  “As usual, we are going to fill our morning with great music and a great interview. But first, let’s check in with our co-host. Mr. Matt Taylor, I understand you had a lengthy practice this weekend. Are you nearly ready for the tour?” She couldn’t bring herself to ask how his weekend had been. She was finding her strength, but it was still a little too soon to rip off that Band-Aid.

  Matt sucked in a deep breath and switched his mic on. She’d given him the perfect opening. All he had to do was step into it.