Fade Into You (Shaken Dirty #3)(83)

“I saw him today. Believe me, he does.”

Her hands were trembling so badly now that she almost bobbled her coffee cup. “I’m scared, Caleb. I don’t want to get hurt any more. And I sure as hell don’t want to hurt him any more.”

“Oh, babe.” He pulled her in for a hug. “You really think talking to him is going to hurt any more than what you’re already going through?”

“I think it might.” She rested her forehead against his shoulder and tried to just breathe.

“Leap of faith,” he said again. “Leap of faith.”

It was her turn to snort. “What happens if I leap and end up crashing to the ground?”

“You won’t.”

“What if I do?”

“Well, then I’ll catch you.” He pressed a kiss to the top of her head. “Isn’t that what your twin is for?”





Chapter Twenty-Four


A leap of faith.

Five hours later, she was still thinking about her conversation with her brother as she poured herself a glass of wine. Caleb wanted her to take a leap of faith, to trust that they wouldn’t fall flat on their asses. Or worse, their faces. After she’d calmed down enough to listen to him, he’d laid out a pretty decent business plan, including where the funding was going to come from (they’d be using pretty much their entire trust funds from their grandmother and then borrowing the rest).

She’d have complete autonomy over what acts they signed—no more hiding, no more going around her dad, no more pretending she didn’t know what she was talking about—and she’d also be in charge of marketing and publicity, her second favorite thing. Caleb would handle the rest.

It sounded too good to be true, and if her life had taught her anything, it was that if it sounded like that, then it probably was like that. And yet…and yet she was tempted to do it anyway. Tempted to give it a shot even if it meant risking everything.

Maybe that’s what Caleb had been trying to tell her—in reference to the label and to Wyatt. That life was worth living and she couldn’t get so busy protecting herself that she forgot to risk anything. Otherwise, what was the point?

Her mind jumped to Wyatt for what was probably the millionth time in the last week. Was Caleb right? Was he as messed up as she was? And if so, could she stand knowing she’d done that to him? Could she stand knowing that she’d added another layer of hurt to the already huge burden the man carried?

Just the thought had tears coming to her eyes. She’d screwed this whole thing up so badly. Had hurt Wyatt when that was the last thing she’d ever wanted to do. And then she’d left him. Just walked away when he got angry with her and lashed out. She’d been so busy protecting herself that she hadn’t thought, even for one second, that maybe he’d been doing the same thing.

And Caleb thought she could just fix it? Thought she could just call Wyatt up and apologize, and everything would go back to the way it was? She shook her head, wiped at her tears. Caleb had always been the optimist of their duo.

And yet…

He wanted her to take a leap of faith.

She took a long sip of her wine, then—because she was a glutton for punishment—went over to her record player and put on the first album she came to in the box of rare vinyl Wyatt had gotten her. It was The Beatles’ White Album and as she put it on, she couldn’t help wondering if she was making a big mistake.

Then again, if she was, it was just one more in a long line she’d made recently…

She listened to “Back in the USSR” on autopilot, but when the lyrics to “Dear Prudence” came on, she couldn’t help but listen. Couldn’t help but pay attention as Lennon crooned about Prudence opening her eyes and coming out to play, about her greeting a beautiful new day.

Fuck. Why the hell hadn’t the Sex Pistols album been the first one she’d come to? No hidden messages in that LP. It was like the whole damn universe was trying to send her a signal…

And if it was…if it was, shouldn’t she listen?

Again, she thought of Wyatt.

The Wyatt who went out of his way to get her a present she would like.

The Wyatt who’d managed to stay sober for at least three months, even with his terrible demons.

The Wyatt who brought her unimaginable pleasure, who always made sure she was taken care of—in the bedroom and out.

The Wyatt who had told three kids he didn’t know that he’d show up at their gig, just because he knew it would mean the world to them.

That was the Wyatt she knew, the Wyatt she had fallen in love with. That was the man she’d hurt.

Suddenly she was so incredibly lonely. So desperate to hear his sandpaper and gravel voice, to smell his clean water scent, to run her hands over his beautiful skin, his beautiful ink. She reached for her phone, started to pull him up on contacts.

But then another idea came to her. One that was terrifying and exhilarating and so, so foolish, all at the same time.

She didn’t have to call him. Instead, she could hop a plane down to Austin and see him.

Tomorrow was Friday night. If he was the man she thought he was, he’d be at the Spotlight, watching a band of teenagers play one of their first gigs. She could show up there and take that giant leap of faith her brother had been talking about.

It was a crazy plan, a desperate one, but it made perfect sense to her. So instead of calling Wyatt and listening to his voice, she pulled up an airline website and booked the first flight to Austin the next morning.