To my shock, River took my hand in his large, rough one. I glanced up at him—he towered over my 5’4”—but his gaze was on his mom.
“Violet and I are going to the Homecoming dance together after the game on Friday.”
Nancy’s eyes widened, though her smile remained the same. “Is that so? How lovely.”
“He’s the King and there was a glitch in the matrix, so I ended up as Queen,” I said with a little laugh. “I think he’s contractually obligated.”
“Ha, no. I’m happy to.” River gave my hand a squeeze and let go. “I gotta get to practice.” He went to his mom and kissed her forehead. “Bye, Mom.”
“Be safe, Dear.”
River flashed me a quick smile. “Call you later?”
“Uh, sure.”
That’s a first.
“Great.” He gave me an awkward peck on the cheek and left, leaving Nancy and me alone in the silence.
“He’s really sweet,” I said finally.
“He is. You two are growing close?”
“I’d say baby steps. We’re both really busy.”
Nancy nodded. “Indeed. Might I trouble you for some tea?”
“And a Hot Pocket, maybe?”
She grinned. “You read my mind.”
I smiled back and headed down to the kitchen. Nancy rarely had the appetite for more than a few bites of food, but I wanted to get as much nutrition in her as possible without being obvious. Feeding Miller all those years had been good practice for being smooth about it.
I took the stairs down, moving through a current of River’s cologne. Faint, but potently masculine.
And he told his mom I’m someone special.
I put the kettle on the stove and put a Chamomile packet in a mug and inhaled, letting a little positivity in. Since the crazy party, life was finally starting to settle down. My parents hadn’t had a blow-up in weeks, River and I were going to the dance. If Miller would just talk to me again, things would be perfect…
My phone chimed a text and a little sound of joy erupted out of me to see that it was from him.
I’m sorry I’ve been such a dick lately. Was thinking about coming over tonight? It’s been awhile.
My thumbs flew. YES! I miss you.
The rolling dots came and went. Then came back.
Me too.
Chapter Ten
“Stratton. Let’s roll.”
I blinked out of the lyrics I’d been messing around with and set down my pen. Ronan and Holden were at the door of the Shack, waiting.
“Yep. Coming.”
I glanced over the words once more. Snippets of thoughts. Sketches of feeling. For Violet. Because, of course, it was for Violet. Every note, every tune, every phrase and lyric were born from the same place in me that loved her and always would.