TAMING HOLLYWOOD'S BADDEST BO- Max Monroe Page 0,107
says. “I think you should at least let him know what that video meant to you.”
“It’s more complicated than that.”
“No, it’s not. It’s that freaking simple,” she says, an annoyed groan filling my ear. “God, you’re too stubborn for your own good sometimes.”
“No, I’m not.”
“Oh, yes, you are.”
I sigh. She’s right. I am stubborn. But I get it honest. Our granny was worse than a fucking mule.
“Will you at least tell me you’ll call him?” she questions.
“I’ll think about it.”
“Seriously, Billie?” she whines. “God, if a man ever did something like that for me, I’d be getting on the next flight to wherever the fuck he is and going there.”
“Don’t be ridiculous.”
“I’m not being ridiculous. I’m being one-hundred-percent real here,” she insists. “Right now, you have the possibility of the kind of love people search their whole fucking lives for. It’s what Momma and Daddy had. You’re the one being ridiculous. You should be running toward him, not running away from him.”
“I’m not running away from him,” I argue. “You know exactly why I came to West Virginia before heading to New York—you know, where he’ll be too.”
“I know visiting Momma and Daddy’s grave every year is an important thing for you, but Lord knows they’d understand if you skipped out of town right now. Hell, Momma would’ve encouraged it.”
“Yeah, but Daddy would be annoyed. Probably demand to meet Luca himself and put him through the wringer.”
Birdie giggles. “True story.”
“All right, I need to go,” I say, but she chimes right in.
“For fuck’s sake, at least tell me you’re going to call him.”
“I told you I’d think about it.”
“Billie!”
“Bye, Birdie! Love you!”
I end the call before she can get in another word.
And not even thirty seconds later, a text message chimes through.
Birdie: If you don’t at least call him, I’ll be forced to take this into my own hands.
I laugh to myself.
What is she going to do? Call the police on me?
Pfft. Pretty sure they don’t arrest you for being confused.
Billie
In order to eventually cross the finish line to destiny, you have to try to run in the right direction. Luckily for me, those country roads I’m always talking about really know where they’re going.
Today is bittersweet.
I wake up in my old bedroom, happy to spend some time at my childhood home, but I also can’t help but feel incredibly melancholy.
Granny isn’t here to greet me with a cranky hello. Birdie isn’t bitching at me about taking too long of a shower in the bathroom. The delicious smell of Granny cooking up some breakfast doesn’t fill my nose when I step into the kitchen.
And fifteen years ago on this very day, I waved goodbye to my smiling parents as my daddy pulled his pickup truck out of the driveway. It was their monthly date night, and my sister had promised to watch Dirty Dancing with me.
Once they were all the way down the dirt road and out of sight, Birdie took me inside the house, and Granny made us a snack.
I remember almost everything about that day.
I ate apples with peanut butter.
We watched Dirty Dancing.
Granny made us pancakes for dinner.
And the phone rang three times before our lives changed forever.
10:05 p.m. That’s when Granny answered the phone.
That’s when her face dropped.
That’s when tears starting dripping down her cheeks.
That’s when I knew—Momma and Daddy weren’t coming home.
Once I’m dressed in a flowy summer dress and my hair is dry, I apply a little blush and mascara and lipstick to my face and head for the door.
By the time I’m stepping out the front door, my phone pings with a text notification.
Butterflies flutter around inside my belly as I snag my phone from my purse and check the screen. But when I see it’s just a message from Birdie, inklings of disappointment replace the flurry of wings.
Why on earth would I be disappointed to hear from my sister? Today, of all days?
Probably because you’re hoping to hear from someone else…
I crinkle my nose in confusion when I read her text.
Birdie: Please don’t be mad at me.
Me: What are you talking about?
Birdie: Wait…where are you?
Me: Getting ready to walk to the cemetery.
Birdie: Oh…okay… Well, tell Momma and Daddy I say hello.
Me: Will do.
Birdie: And just remember that, when it comes to my baby sister, everything I do is out of love.
Me: Why do you keep talking in riddles? You’re freaking me out over here.
Birdie: No need for a freak-out. Just forget I said anything. Until later, then definitely remember what I said.