to enjoy myself, and that has included some amazing BBQ and skipping a few sessions at the gym. Without dancing on tour, you can do the math. I appreciate y’alls concern and curiosity but life has ups and downs and so does my weight. Most likely I will be bigger than this and smaller than this at some point, so don’t worry your heads over it. The obsession with the female form is ridiculous given that no one gives a rat’s ass if a male country singer gets a spare tire.”
“That’s perfect,” Chance said. “Post it.”
“I really can’t.” She took a deep breath and reached for a coffee mug. “But it felt better to type it out.”
“I don’t see why you can’t tweet that. Put them in their place.”
It was so, so tempting. “I deleted it the second I got to the ‘e’ in tire.” She poured the coffee, shutting her eyes to enjoy the sound.
“You’re going to overpour.”
“The hell I am.” She knew exactly when to stop. “Years of experience.”
“How long have you been drinking coffee?”
“Since I was four.”
Chance snorted. “Whatever. I don’t believe you.”
“I’m dead serious. Okay, maybe I was six, but I was young, trust me. My parents didn’t care and it made me feel grown up. My daddy always said kids stopped being a pain in the ass when they became adults, so I was determined to grow up as fast as possible so no one could call me a pain in the ass just for existing. Coffee drinking seemed like a good start. I did doctor it with milk and sugar, but it was fully caffeinated.”
“Your father was a piece of work. But no wonder you’re so motivated. You have java juice built up in your veins like plaque.”
She laughed and took a sip. “Maybe so. Now I’m going to go get ready and I’ll meet you on the front porch. Catfish need to be caught.”
It definitely felt less awkward between them this morning, which she was grateful for. She didn’t want to be on the outs with Chance. “I’m glad we’ve moved past our breakup,” she told him sincerely. “I didn’t like being angry with you and not speaking for three months.”
“I didn’t like that either. And have we moved past the breakup?”
She paused. “Haven’t we?”
He nodded slowly, considering. “I guess I should have sex with all of my exes to get over the awkwardness.”
And just like that, he ruined it. She rolled her eyes and moved past him, cradling her mug in her hands. “It’s like someone is showing you cue cards on all the exact wrong things to say to me. It’s amazing.”
“Jolene, that sounded wrong. Hold up.”
She slammed the bedroom door. Idiot man. Why couldn’t he see she did not want to make jokes about their relationship? Or talk about it like it was the worst thing ever? She didn’t think she was that hard to read and she didn’t think it was all that hard to figure out there were still raw feelings there.
Flopping on her bed, she pulled out her notebook and scribbled some lyrics.
He wanted a breakup album. She was tired of the anger. Tired of holding on to it. She wanted to write a love song. A good old-fashioned love song about meeting a boy and dancing in a dark bar and sharing a first kiss.
That’s what she missed.
The first kiss.
There would never be another moment like that time in the back of the limo where Chance had leaned over and swept his hand across her cheek and leaned in and brushed her mouth with his. It had been delicious.
Like a bite of a hot fudge sundae. Like a garden hose on her head in the hottest heat of the summer. Like the swings at the fair. He could take her there.
When Chance knocked on her door, she had a song, and a very serious problem.
She wanted to go back to the beginning and she couldn’t.
Nine
Jolene was back to what Chance considered normal. He wasn’t sure what she had been doing in her room because she’d been unusually reticent about it, but he assumed she was handling the whole media nonsense. He had to give her props. It never got her down for long when she was slammed by the press or the online haters. Now she was just her typical self, all smiles and soft laughter as they settled in on the dock, fishing poles in hand.
He had expected her to be a diva about the