“Your dad? What does this have to do with him?” Chase asks at the same moment Dylan can tell the meaning dawns on him. “You’re not him.”

“No shit, Sherlock,” Dylan says, snagging the notebook. “But this industry isn’t conducive to long-term relationships, and I like my freedom.”

“That’s a load of crap.” Chase stares him down for a stretch of time, then shakes his head, disappointed. “Get some sleep. You’re not thinking straight.”

“You don’t need to ask me twice,” Dylan says, already on his way out.

“The songs?” Chase gestures at the notebook.

“I’ll think about it.” He slams the door.

CHAPTER 18

CHAPTER 18

BEFORE

Dylan

Somewhere BFE (Joy’s idea) to Oklahoma City, Oklahoma, to somewhere one hour northeast of Oklahoma City (Dylan’s idea)

Joy showered at the campground facilities and Dylan waited, and waited. Words pinged his brain. They had been all day, and finally, as he’d taken his own shower, they coupled into lines of lyrics.

Now, as he leaned against Joy’s Bug waiting for her to do whatever it was that she did to look starchy perfect, he jotted the verse into his notebook before something distracted him and smoked the words from memory.

Two verses and a chorus in and the song his unexpected companion inspired was taking shape.

Pleased with his progress, he put the notebook away and went back to waiting, leaning against the car, arms folded on his chest, legs crossed at the ankles, thinking about his muse.

Holy skinny-dip, she’d surprised him today. Daring with a capital D, and he’d loved it in a way that he hated. Her impulsiveness had thrown him off-center, but he enjoyed chilling with her and doing absolutely nothing. Too bad she was off-limits to him. Too bad he wasn’t a schmuck who didn’t care. They could go from hanging out today to hooking up tonight.

He scratched his wrist. The leather bands, damp and brittle, itched. Billie gifted the bands at the outset of each season the Westfield Brothers toured. Every so often a band would snap. He always made sure that he replaced them. Thirteen bands. Thirteen reminders that he intended to remain single. Thirteen reminders to stay focused on his future as a music executive and producer.

The bands also reminded him of his mom, Billie, which of course reminded him of his parents and the last day he’d seen them together. Because his mind just had to go there. Dumbass.

He’d been thirteen when Billie woke him up in the cramped middle bunk of the tour bus. She was outside, railing on someone. Obvious guess would be his dad, Jack.