Cry Wolf (Wolves of Angels Rest #7)(26)

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After Diesel had gone, Willow lay staring at the van ceiling for awhile, thinking of nothing.

What else could she think? She’d been so mad that he left without saying goodbye last time. Turned out, in some ways that was less painful than saying goodbye. Especially knowing he might be hurt. Or worse.

No, this was why she wasn’t thinking.

But once her brain got spinning there was nothing she could do but think. The restlessness made the van much too small, even without Diesel in it, so she got dressed and went to the house. She wished Betsy was home to talk to, to distract her from the worry of what might happen to Diesel. Of what was happening to her.

Because something was happening. She felt it.

She was falling for him.

In her years of playing one town after another, she’d never had a chance to fall in love. Even during the times when they’d stopped touring to write or record, she’d been too focused on the epic love stories and horrible breakups in her songs to bother with doing it in real life, at least not in any way that mattered.

But now…

One lazy, hot afternoon when they’d been kids, she and Danny had been kicked back on a grassy hilltop, waiting for his cousin and the rest of the neighborhood crew to bicycle up the path. She’d been humming idly to herself and he asked her to sing the popular Whitney Houston song from The Bodyguard. It had seemed like an overly romantic choice for a boy, even a geeky boy, but she obliged because she liked the high notes. When she finished, she’d asked him what he wanted to be when they got older.

“I want to make a world where everybody can be who they’re supposed to be.”

She’d wrinkled her nose, unsure what he meant.

He’d added, “Like you know that you are supposed to be a famous singer.”

That made sense to her at the time, and now she knew he’d been thinking about his troubled brother. That desire to save whatever small part of the world was around him had obviously pushed him into the army and now was making him help his friends at his own risk. He’d become a bodyguard.

Was she the only thing he’d ever done that was just for himself?

Her heart skittered, the thought both flattering and terrifying. And she worried it felt too much like the moment the Vegas residency had been offered to her. Was she just feeding her ego? What if he didn’t really care about her any more than the casino cared about her music? Sure, she was sparkly to have around sometimes, but… Compared to risking his life, her dream of music must seem shallow and silly. She was sleeping in a van in a stranger’s driveway while he was off saving the world, again.

No wonder he’d hesitated when she asked if he’d call her.

Plus, she’d forgotten to give him her phone number.

And he hadn’t asked for it.

This was why all her romances were about three minutes long, perfect for radio play and then cut to commercial. She just wasn’t any good at this.

Just a week ago, she’d thought the worst thing in the world was not having a song welling up in her. Now she knew how wrong she was.

She didn’t just want the songs to play through her soul. She wanted to live them, highs and lows and everything in between.

And she wanted them with Danny the geeky boy and Diesel the sexy, dangerous man.

She couldn’t stay here, waiting for a call that might never come. And if it didn’t come, she still wouldn’t necessarily know if he was alive or…not.

Feeling like she was about to cannonball into fathomless depths, she gathered her things from the house and dumped them in the van. She left Betsy a short note explaining that she had to run to the city for a bit. She owned the guys and their manager an explanation in person.

She had a day to get to Vegas and back, and then she’d ask Betsy to help her get in touch with Diesel. Because by god, he was going to live. She’d tell him she wanted to try for something more than their little interludes. Maybe he wasn’t interested, but he’d said she’d taught him boldness, and this was no time for her to turn chicken.

Cruising through town, she realized, as small as it was, she hadn’t explored at all. Gramma’s had pie she hadn’t tried. She still needed to hike up to the mesa. And there were songs bursting up inside her, but they’d have to wait.

Still, she put her foot down on the gas pedal as she hit the highway. She wanted to get back as soon as possible.

The asphalt gleamed like a dark river under the light of a mostly full moon, and the restlessness inside her reminded her of the stage fright that used to make her nauseous before a gig. Now all she had to do was think of Diesel naked to turn the butterflies in her stomach to fire-breathing dragons ready to take on the world.

Though it was just getting to be night, she encountered no other traffic. A road sign flashed by, the age-dulled metal barely reflecting her headlights. Apparently nobody had business out here except her, which would explain the lack of a cell signal when she tried to place a call to their manager’s phone. She’d have to get closer to a tower, or maybe the low hills off to the side were blocking her in.

Her heart zinged at the thought of the change she would be making. It was scary and exciting, like stepping out with a whole new set and she didn’t know how anyone would take it.

Then her heart skipped, less like a syncopation and more like someone dropped the beat. She put a hand over her breast, sucking down a ragged breath.