new comfortable sofas we had got in. I didn’t know how to play a guitar or piano. Instead I heard music in my head. Spike had always been the one who was pretty good at translating my strange humming into something that matched the words. Even if he did get carried away and throw in a five-minute solo, lick the strings and tell me he was going to light his guitar on fire one of these nights.
Writing songs was a way I could escape. I was lying when I told Chase I had only written three songs. Fact was I had the makings of five completed. I just wasn’t sure the other two were that good. Despite Spike’s strange behavior, he always would listen to what I had written and felt he could turn it into something that was useable. Writing was a strange thing but like therapy for me. It allowed me to silence the noise in my head and retreat to a place that made me feel calm. It felt right. As if I was meant to do it.
But how did anyone know what they were meant to do? And what about this store, maybe I was just a fool with a dream, like all the fools who had left the comfort of their surroundings and ventured off to Nashville or entered contests.
I mean, could I really win? It just didn’t seem possible.
I made a mental note to speak with Sophie. Had she only uploaded one song or all of them? If it was all of them, well, I would have to write another one. The thought wasn’t daunting, but it excited me. Creating something new and fresh.
For a brief moment, I found myself lost again in writing. I wasn’t thinking about the outcome, whether anyone would like it. It was just me and that pad of paper. Melodies spun in my head and the words flowed effortlessly.
As for Chase Bryan, he had disappeared into the far recesses of my mind, at least for the rest of that evening.
Chapter 8
T he evening replayed in my mind that morning. I felt like a jerk. The things I had said to her. What on earth did she think of me? She was a feisty one, I would give her that, but I also liked that. She didn’t just bend over, drop to her knees or turn into a complete child when I was around her. In fact it was quite the opposite. There was something to a woman who could stand her own ground. Not take any crap.
I’d made up my mind that morning, I would try to turn around. I wasn’t going to let her think that I was a complete douche. I wasn’t perfect but I had reasons to be careful. The past few years had seen a string of dates with women who only seemed to have an eye on my bank account. Others, well, they just wanted to get with me so they had something to brag to their friends about. In years gone by it was hard to get close to celebrities. Newspapers and events were the only way to dig up fodder, or catch a glimpse. Now everyone had access. Anyone with a cell phone or a social media account could stalk you.
The number of hate messages I got on a daily basis would have made even the strongest celebrity rethink staying in the business. It didn’t matter how nice you acted towards some. It was always twisted. Taken wrong. Taken out context and then published for the whole world to see.
I had lived in the eye of the public for over eight years, and it hadn’t got any easier. I grimaced at the thought that Meghan might have been sharing what I had said or gloating over the kiss. Yet a part of me knew that probably wasn’t the case.
She had countless times that she could have spread the word about my whereabouts. But glancing outside the window that morning, no paparazzi were to be seen. No locals queueing up hoping to get a photo or my John Hancock.
Had I been too forward kissing her?
She didn’t have a boyfriend.
There didn’t seem to be any indication that she didn’t like my company.
Was I turning this into something it wasn’t? Going down a road that could only lead to breaking her heart? Life on the road made relationships hard. That’s why so many dated those who were already in the business. At least that way they
Writing songs was a way I could escape. I was lying when I told Chase I had only written three songs. Fact was I had the makings of five completed. I just wasn’t sure the other two were that good. Despite Spike’s strange behavior, he always would listen to what I had written and felt he could turn it into something that was useable. Writing was a strange thing but like therapy for me. It allowed me to silence the noise in my head and retreat to a place that made me feel calm. It felt right. As if I was meant to do it.
But how did anyone know what they were meant to do? And what about this store, maybe I was just a fool with a dream, like all the fools who had left the comfort of their surroundings and ventured off to Nashville or entered contests.
I mean, could I really win? It just didn’t seem possible.
I made a mental note to speak with Sophie. Had she only uploaded one song or all of them? If it was all of them, well, I would have to write another one. The thought wasn’t daunting, but it excited me. Creating something new and fresh.
For a brief moment, I found myself lost again in writing. I wasn’t thinking about the outcome, whether anyone would like it. It was just me and that pad of paper. Melodies spun in my head and the words flowed effortlessly.
As for Chase Bryan, he had disappeared into the far recesses of my mind, at least for the rest of that evening.
Chapter 8
T he evening replayed in my mind that morning. I felt like a jerk. The things I had said to her. What on earth did she think of me? She was a feisty one, I would give her that, but I also liked that. She didn’t just bend over, drop to her knees or turn into a complete child when I was around her. In fact it was quite the opposite. There was something to a woman who could stand her own ground. Not take any crap.
I’d made up my mind that morning, I would try to turn around. I wasn’t going to let her think that I was a complete douche. I wasn’t perfect but I had reasons to be careful. The past few years had seen a string of dates with women who only seemed to have an eye on my bank account. Others, well, they just wanted to get with me so they had something to brag to their friends about. In years gone by it was hard to get close to celebrities. Newspapers and events were the only way to dig up fodder, or catch a glimpse. Now everyone had access. Anyone with a cell phone or a social media account could stalk you.
The number of hate messages I got on a daily basis would have made even the strongest celebrity rethink staying in the business. It didn’t matter how nice you acted towards some. It was always twisted. Taken wrong. Taken out context and then published for the whole world to see.
I had lived in the eye of the public for over eight years, and it hadn’t got any easier. I grimaced at the thought that Meghan might have been sharing what I had said or gloating over the kiss. Yet a part of me knew that probably wasn’t the case.
She had countless times that she could have spread the word about my whereabouts. But glancing outside the window that morning, no paparazzi were to be seen. No locals queueing up hoping to get a photo or my John Hancock.
Had I been too forward kissing her?
She didn’t have a boyfriend.
There didn’t seem to be any indication that she didn’t like my company.
Was I turning this into something it wasn’t? Going down a road that could only lead to breaking her heart? Life on the road made relationships hard. That’s why so many dated those who were already in the business. At least that way they
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