If anything, Joyride is an open invitation for her to seek him out. Admittedly, he hoped she’d take it as an invite. He poured his heart and soul into those songs. He shared with the universe everything he feels for the woman Trace sings about. Joy would have known that it’s her. And she’s been radio-silent.

His phone pings with a message from Rhea.

You free tonight?

Reality drops like a hit on the Billboard charts. Joy’s happily married and has moved on from him, just as he asked her to.

He slams closed his laptop and texts Rhea back.

Meeting Chase and Dakota at Mr. Purple. Pick you up in 30?

Her reply is immediate.

Perfect. I’ll be ready.

CHAPTER 22

CHAPTER 22

BEFORE

Dylan

Stroud, Oklahoma

Dylan sat across from Joy at the Rock Café. She nursed a tea and he poured coffee down his throat, reflecting on last night. Sleeping under the stars had been a great idea, in theory. Next time, not that he expected a next time, he’d pick a campground rather than an open field. The seats had been uncomfortable and the bugs huge and annoying. Around 4:00 a.m., Dylan grunted, “Fuck this,” and put up the top.

“Thank God,” Joy had said, then fallen back to sleep.

Lucky her. He’d hardly slept a wink. He kept drifting in and out, his mind taking him back to their conversation each time he surfaced and waved off a bug buzzing near his ear. This trip wasn’t what he’d expected either. He never imagined that he’d enjoy performing, even look forward to his gigs. And the crazier than shit thing about that? If his dad hadn’t sent him on this trip, Dylan never would have learned that the key to managing his stage anxiety was to focus on his performance, like be fucking present in the moment and not stuck in his head obsessing about how he’d be received. Oh, and to home in on a focal point like a pitcher eagle-eyeing a catcher’s mitt.

Thanks to Jack, the damn bastard, Dylan had found the most gorgeous focal point on Route 66.

Exhausted, he downed the dregs of his coffee. His back ached and his legs were stiff. He felt sticky from the bug spray and smelled. His face itched. Damn facial growth. He needed to shave. The air had been thick with humidity and he’d sweat most of the night. He’d also been all too aware of Joy sleeping beside him. He could hear her breaths and sweet sighs of sleep.