Page 28 of The Rebel with Broken Strings
He chuckled, the sound low and warm. “Honestly? I have no idea. Last thing I remember was the opening credits.” His eyes twinkled with amusement. “Guess I’m not as fun as I used to be—can’t even stay awake for a movie night.”
A soft laugh escaped her lips. “Well, if it makes you feel any better, I didn’t make it much further.” She shook her head, smiling. “Some party animals we are.”
Their shared laughter eased some of the tension, but Aubrey couldn’t shake the heightened awareness of his presence. She watched as he stretched, his muscles flexing beneath his shirt.
He glanced at his watch, his expression shifting. “I should probably head out,” he said, moving to stand up. “It’s getting late.”
Aubrey felt a sudden pang of…something. Disappointment? Concern? She wasn’t quite sure. “Wait,” she found herself saying, surprising even herself. “It’s late. Just stay.”
Gunner paused, his eyes searching hers. “You sure?” he asked, his voice soft.
Aubrey nodded, her practical side taking over. “We’ve got plenty of blankets, and the fire’s still going,” she said, ignoring the flutter in her stomach.
He hesitated, his eyes flickering between Aubrey and the couch. A moment passed, charged with unspoken possibilities, before he slowly sank back onto the couch. Aubrey’s heart skipped a beat as she watched him settle in, his broad shoulders relaxing against the cushions.
“Thanks,” he murmured, his voice a low rumble that sent a shiver down her spine.
Aubrey lay back down on her side, pulling the blanket up around her. The fire crackled softly. In the dim light, she swore she could see the questions in his eyes, mirroring her own curiosity and apprehension.
Taking a deep breath, she steeled herself. “Can I ask you something?” she began, her voice barely above a whisper.
He turned to face her fully, his eyes intense. “Anything, darlin’.”
Her heart raced. She’d imagined this conversation a hundred times, but now that the moment was here, words seemed to fail her. She bit her lip, wrestling with how to phrase the question that had haunted her since that night.
“It’s just…” she started, then paused, searching for the right words. “Why did you leave me like you did?” she finally asked.
Gunner’s eyes widened before he sat up. “So, it was you? You’re admitting it?”
Aubrey snorted. “Oh no,” she quipped, her tone lighter than she felt. “You don’t get to turn this around on me. I’ll answer that after you explain yourself.”
He chuckled, a deep, rich sound that sent a warmth through Aubrey’s chest.
“Fair enough,” he conceded, his eyes crinkled with amusement and something deeper. “I suppose I owe you that much.”
Aubrey hugged her pillow, bracing herself for his explanation.
His expression grew serious, his gaze drifting to the dying embers of the fire. “It all started with an ATV accident,” he began. “I was being reckless, a stupid rebel, I guess…” His fingers absently traced a line along his leg, drawing Aubrey’s attention. “The accident left me with a nasty scar, right here,” he said, gesturing to his thigh. Then his expression grew somber. “That scar was just the beginning,” he continued, his voice dropping to almost a whisper. “The pain… It’s bad sometimes. I turned to pills, thinking they’d help me cope while I was on tour.”
Her heart ached at the raw vulnerability in Gunner’s voice. She wanted to reach out, to offer comfort, but remained still, sensing he needed to get this out.
“Before I knew it, I was in deep,” he confessed. “The addiction took everything—my music, my sense of self. I was empty. A shell of who I used to be.”
The weight of his words hung heavy in the air between them.
“Then I saw you,” he continued. “That week in Atlanta, it was like a jolt of electricity. For the first time in years, I felt like I’d woken up again, if that makes any sense at all.”
Aubrey found herself leaning in, her eyes never leaving his.
“Our week together,” he went on, “it was more than just a fling. It was…normal. Happy. Everything I’d been missing.”
A bittersweet smile tugged at Aubrey’s lips. “Then why did you leave?” she asked.
Gunner’s eyes clouded with regret. “I was scared,” he admitted. “Terrified, actually. I felt something real with you, and it made me realize how far I’d fallen. I couldn’t bear the thought of dragging you into my mess.”
Her breath hitched. “So you ran?”
He gave a slow nod. “I ran. From you. From myself. From seeing what a fucking mess I’d become. I hated the man those pills made me. I came back home within a week, faced my demons, got help. Started the long road to healing.” A shaky breath escaped him as his gaze locked on to Aubrey’s with an intensity that made her breath catch. “I never thought I’d see you again,” he whispered. “But here you are, in my hometown of all places. It feels like…”
