Page 13 of Heartbeat Highway

Bo

I putthe car in neutral and Lily helps me push it to the side of the road. The driver immediately behind us pulls around and screeches past, but an athletic Black woman in a brand-new pick up stops beside our broken-down car.

“Call Leroy.” She hands me a business card through the open window of her truck. “He’s the only game in town, so I hope you’re not in a hurry.”

My stomach curdles as I remember the volume of anxious texts from Dan, asking if I’m going to be in Chattanooga for the concert in—gulp—six hours. Still, the thought of playing behind K, watching him grandstand when he just ruined Lily’s life, also makes me want to throw up.

“Thanks.” I take the card from her. “I appreciate you stopping.”

“Any time.” She flashes us a brilliant smile then takes off down the road.

I turn to Lily, who’s texting furiously on her phone, a deep furrow between her eyebrows. Her cheeks are flushed and herjaw tight. “Shit,” she says. “I’m trying to text the guy I rented the car from, but he’s not responding. What are we going to do? You can’t miss your concert.”

Stifling my own unease, I stick my hands in my pockets and rock back on my heels. “It wouldn’t be the worst thing.” It wouldn’t. I’ll be with her, and that’s all that matters to me. Besides, this tour has been going well, almost too well. I had three calls yesterday from my dad’s publicist, asking if Howl could cover some of Crooked’s songs. I’d almost rather not show up for the rest of it.

“Bo!” She swats my chest with the back of her hand, her touch searing through my shirt. “It’s your job. You can’t not go.”

“I don’t want to play with a band that allows someone like K just to live his life after being such a fucking asshole.” Wow. I hadn’t realized I was that bitter about it. Of course I’m angry for Lily’s sake, but maybe also a little for my own.

Lily puts her hand on my shoulder and squeezes. “I’m okay. Really. Is it a double standard? Yes. Is it fair that he’ll get praised for ‘just being a rockstar’ while any woman would be slut shamed or called a fame-seeking groupie? Or that I’ll be forgotten while he will go on to be completely and totally fine? No. Of course it’s not fair.” She exhales and hugs herself. “But that’s life. Life isn’t fair, but it’s real. So what if he suffers no adverse consequences? I can’t control that. But I can control myself and how I respond.”

This is the opposite of how my mom reacted when she found out my dad had cheated while he was on tour. She alternated between ranting and sulking, which was justified because my dad was a dick. He still is. But I was thirteen. I wished at the time that she could still have found it within her to remember to be my mom.

Still, I grew up fine, so no shade.

I shake off the weight of the memories and hug Lily. Her arms slide around me, and this is a position we’ve been in hundreds of times, thousands.

This time feels different.

I’m more aware of her scent, the shape of her body against mine. It’s a healing kind of touch. I want nothing more than to stay like this for hours.

Her hair brushes my cheek as she turns to rest her head against my shoulder. “Bo,” she says softly, her breath a delectable suggestion against my ear.

Lily, my body sings. My fingers itch with the need to hold her closer, but we’re already too close to crossing the friendship line. She just broke up with her boyfriend of two years. This morning. What kind of asshole does it make me if I force us over that threshold?

A horn honks behind us, and I turn, my arms somehow around Lily’s waist.

A man with a John Deere hat pulls up beside us in a tow truck. “I’m Leroy. Heard you folks needed some help?”

“It’s goingto take how long?” Like a superhero, I manage to keep the panic out of my voice. I’m fine playing cool and nonchalant, but if I miss the concert, Dan will skin me alive. Maxim doesn’t need to see that.

Lily stands beside me at the garage, staring forlorn at the shitty rental car.

Damn thing. I should have kicked it to bits the minute we got to the restaurant. Then Lily and I could still be there, eating and drinking and laughing.

No, instead we’re here, being told that there is very little chance I’ll be using this shitty rental car to get to Chattanooga by tonight.

“Sorry.” Calvin, Leroy’s son who works the front desk, shakes his head apologetically. “My dad is great at what he does, but he thinks all things worth doing are worth the time it takes.”

There are only two things I can think of worth the span of time Leroy has quoted. One is music and the other…I shouldn’t think about with Lily beside me, all sweet and soft and grieving. I have to remember the grieving. It’s all far too tempting to whisk her away somewhere and show her everything I’ve always dreamed of doing with her.

“I’m so sorry,” Lily says, and a tear rolls down one cheek. “I’m sorry to make you late, Bo. We won’t make it to the concert.”

“Hey.” I put my hands on her shoulders and gently turn her to face me. With the pad of my thumb, I wipe away the tear and let my hand rest there on her perfect cheek for a moment. A little indulgence, just this once. “It’s not your fault. I’ll call Dan. Maybe the tour bus can swing through and pick us up. We’ll call a cab, or a ride share.”

Calvin coughs discreetly. “It’s probably an hour’s wait if you want to call a ride. I have a list here of local providers.” He hands me a laminated sheet, clearly well-used and covered with a fine layer of grease, as so many things in repair shops seem to be.

I pull out my phone and take a picture of the list, then send Dan a quick SOS text. “See, Lily? It’s going to be fine. We have options.”

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