Our Kind of Love

Chapter 2-1

Chapter 2

Scraps of melody danced around the edges of Kyle’s brain, as he waited in the green room to go on The Breakfast Club, Nashville’s hottest, syndicated morning show. He itched to discharge this last duty so he could go back to his loft and write. This was the first glimmer of something new he’d had in longer than he cared to admit. If he had to reschedule his dinner plans with Caleb and Emerson to chase it, they’d understand.

He’d stayed up way too late, losing out on hours of precious sleep, coaxing out the lyrics. Like all his biggest hits, the song was a heartbreaker, which meant it was the truest thing he’d written in a long time. Maybe it was time to stop hiding the pain and bleed it out into music. It said a lot that he found that more appealing than contemplating what it meant that his mother had shown up last night.

He rolled the ring across his knuckles like a coin. Would Abbey listen if he poured the whole thing out in a song? Give him the chance to explain, at last? Or had she cut his music as thoroughly out of her life as she had him?

A woman in a headset walked in. “You’re up, Mr. Keenan.”

He rose, pocketing the ring, and followed her to the sound stage in time to catch the tail end of the host’s introduction. “—the most recent recipient of TCN’s Shooting Star Award, and arguably one of the nicest guys in country music, please welcome Kyle Keenan!”

Smile in place, hand lifted to the cameras, he strode on stage to join the host, Jillian Jessop. He gave the expected air kiss on her cheek and dropped into the waiting chair, forcing himself to sit back and relax rather than perching on the edge of the seat.

“Thanks for joining us this morning.”

“Thanks for having me.” Kyle tried not to squint in the glare of the studio lights. It was too damned early for lights this bright. They beat down on him and sweat beaded between his shoulders. Or maybe that was the anxiety. He’d performed in front of hundreds of thousands of people without blinking, but that was with a guitar in his hands. He felt n***d and exposed without one.

“Now, you just finished up the Light My Fire tour with Mercy Lee Bradshaw.”

“Yes, ma’am. Just last night at the FedEx Forum in Memphis. After all these months on the road, it’s good to be back in Tennessee.”

“What’s the plan for your down time?”

“Hanging out with my family and working on songs for the next album.”

“Ooo, any hints about the direction that’s taking?”

Instead of rubbing his sweaty palms on his jeans, he winked. “It’s a surprise.” Even to me.

Jillian pursed her lips. “Okay, okay. Let’s talk about your most recent album, Bustin’ at the Seams. It’s currently number nine on the Billboard charts. What’s it like breaking into that top ten?”

“I mean, it’s amazing. That’s been one of the things on my bucket list. It’s incredibly humbling to have that many people enjoying my music, and I absolutely couldn’t do it without them. Fans are everything.”

“On that album is your first number one hit, “Hollow”. Can we talk you into playing for us?”

The studio audience cheered. Relieved to have something to do besides just talk, Kyle nodded and accepted the guitar a stagehand brought out. He made a few adjustments to the tuning by ear. It had been ages since he’d done a solo acoustic version of this. Not since he’d cut the track in the studio. As he closed his eyes and began to play, the audience faded and he lost himself in the song, the story. Something about stripping away all the frills, all the polish, made the song more raw and took him back to when he’d written it. It was a song about grief and regret, everything he’d drowned in for the weeks and months after he’d realized Abbey was through with him. There was something karmic about this being his first number one, ensuring he relived all of it over and over, never letting the wound scab over.

The applause brought him back. Jillian clutched a few notecards to her chest, looking half ready to swoon. “I absolutely see why that’s become the latest anthem for the broken-hearted. So easy for people to relate to.”

Kyle kept the guitar in his lap, needing something in his hands to stop himself from reaching for the ring. “I think that’s something the best songs have in common. They’re the ones that connect to the human experience. Everybody’s lost somebody.”

Jillian’s gaze turned shrewd. “Now, you yourself have been notoriously single since you entered the public eye. But you and Mercy Lee looked pretty cozy on the tour. Are your days of singlehood and sad songs coming to an end?”

His fingers clenched on the guitar as he struggled to hold on to his temper. He’d said in advance that this topic was off limits. A quick glance to the side showed Davis flashing an I-know-best smile. This s**t needed to stop.

“Rumors of our involvement have been greatly exaggerated. Mercy Lee and I are just friends.” They weren’t even that, but it wasn’t good for his image to air his true opinion of the woman on live national television.

“Come now, there’s no reason to play your cards so close to your vest,” Jillian cajoled.

“The fact is, I can’t be involved with Mercy Lee because I’m already promised to someone else.” And it didn’t much matter to his heart that she’d sent back the ring. He didn’t want anyone else.

The host gaped. “You heard it here first, ladies and gentlemen. Kyle Keenan is engaged!”

“Wait—” That wasn’t what he’d meant, wasn’t what he’d said. Was it?

But Jillian was like a shark scenting blood. “Tell us everything. Who is she? How long have y’all been together? How did you meet?”

Kyle scrambled to salvage the situation. Maybe he could make it clear he was off the market without this blowing up in his face. “She’s the only one who’s ever mattered. We’ve known each other forever, but she values her privacy, so we’ve kept everything on the down low. That won’t be changing.”

“That’s all you’re going to give us? Not even the story of your romance?”

Again with the Nice Guy smile. “That’s it.” Let the media chase their tails trying to figure out who he was talking about. There wasn’t enough here for them to connect it to an actual person. It would be okay.

“Fine. I suppose we’ll have to accept that. Let’s wrap up with a lightning round of questions.”

Dodged that bullet. Kyle relaxed. “Alright, let’s do it.”

“Favorite food?”

“Apple pie.”

“Song you sing in the shower?”

“‘The Thunder Rolls.’”

“Dogs or cats?”

“Dogs.”

“Last book you read?”

“Blake Iverson’s latest.”

“Your girl’s name.”

“Abbey.”

“Ah ha!”

Oh s**t, what have I done? “That was dirty.”

Jillian just shrugged, unrepentant. “Inquiring minds wanted to know. Thanks for joining us today.” She turned her gaze back to the camera. “After the break, we’ll be back with—”

But Kyle heard nothing else. He was too busy holding in the oh s**t, oh s**t, oh s**t echoing through his skull like a refrain. He’d said her name. Not her last name. But if anybody did any real digging, tracing him back to Eden’s Ridge, they’d find her. She’d be mobbed with media, and they wouldn’t care what the truth was… Whether they were together or not, she’d be the center of a shitstorm.

This was all Davis’s fault. If he hadn’t pressed the Mercy Lee thing, Kyle’s mouth wouldn’t have run away without his brain. As soon as he got the all clear, he strode off the stage, yanking off his mic pack and shoving it at a nearby tech. His manager looked apoplectic.

Before he could even say a word, Kyle was in his face. “You’re fired.”

For a moment, legitimate shock blanked out the anger. “You don’t mean that.”

“Oh, I sure as hell do. We’re done.” There was satisfaction in saying it. In meaning it.

“About damned time,” Griff muttered.

Color swept the other man’s cheeks. “You’ll regret this. You’d be nothing without me.”

Perhaps that had been true once, but not anymore.

“I’ll take my chances. Don’t forget about the NDA you signed.” Without a backward glance, he left Davis in the wings and headed for the studio exit, his brother right behind.

“Gonna be fallout from that,” Griff observed.

“It’ll be nothing compared to the hell that’ll be unleashed if I don’t get to Abbey before she hears about this interview.” In truth, she was probably gonna kill him either way.

“So, we’re going home?”

The place he hadn’t been able to make himself set foot in since he blew his own world to pieces. Even the idea of it had nausea setting up in his gut. But alongside the queasiness was a kernel of desperate hope because this disaster meant that, like it or not, he’d finally see Abbey again.

Kyle shoved out the door. “We’re going home.”