As soon as I say the words, I wish I hadn’t. Not only because both Chip and Jett look even more intrigued and I know teenagers aren’t inclined to drop a topic once they express some interest, but also because I want to know how Sutton would have answered the question, given the chance.
We were friends?He dated my stepsister?I haven’t seen him in eight years?
Jett’s expression is alight with interest. “No shit?” He looks between us, and I know what question is coming next.
Before he can say another word, a car door slams outside. A woman’s voice is saying something, but I only catch bits and pieces of sentences.
I glance over at Sutton. “You expecting anyone?”
She shakes her head. “But I’m pretty sure I know who that is.”
Without another word, she heads for the main door and disappears into the yard.
“You guys get started. I’ll be right back,” I say, then follow her outside before Jett or Chip can answer.
Sutton is standing to the right of the barn, next to a black SUV parked by a stack of pallets. She’s talking to a tall, dark-haired woman who looks to be in her early thirties. Both of them glance over when I walk outside.
“Sorry to interrupt.” I pause and shove my hands into my jeans. The words are meant for both of them, but my eyes are on Sutton.
Her arms are crossed, her expression absent of any amusement. She looks anxious, upset. But it’s not my place to ask. It never has been.
“I just wanted to make sure everything was okay.”
The woman standing next to Sutton glances between me and her. Not just once, but a few times.
“This is my manager, Suzan,” Sutton says. “She flew two thousand miles to let me know my guitarist was in a motorcycle accident last night.”
My eyebrows rise. “Is he okay?” I ask.
“Yeah. He’ll be fine. But he broke his wrist.”
“You’re down a guitarist.”
She nods. “Yeah. I’m down a guitarist.”
I can’t read her expression at all. Can’t tell if she’s thinking,You play guitar, the way I’m thinking,I play guitar. Not only do I play, but I’m also about to have the next two and a half months wide open. If I believed in fate and signs, I’d think this was one.
“Who’s this?” Suzan asks after a few beats of total silence.
I wait to see how Sutton will answer rather than jumping in again.
“This is Teddy,” she says.
That’sallshe says. There’s no explanation for who I am in general, much less who I am to her. But the three words are coated with the same familiarity on display as in the barn. She says my name like it’s an explanation spelled out in five letters.
Suzan shoots me a small, guarded smile. “Nice to meet you, Teddy.”
“You too,” I reply. Then, I glance at Sutton. “I could…”
“I’m not asking you to.”
“I know. I’m offering, June.”
“It’s six weeks. All across Europe. You seriously going to up and leave? After twelve years here?” There’s an edge to her voice. Almost a challenge.
I inject mine with the same. “That’s what I’m offering, yeah.”
In some ways, this has nothing to do with her. This is an opportunity. To do something different. To move—literally and figuratively. But in most ways, it haseverythingto do with her.