Avery paced the studio. It was 5:45, and Matt wasn’t here. Had he changed his mind?
“Avery, love,” Ajay said through the speakers, “you’re going to wear a hole in the carpet.”
“Sorry,” she mouthed through the glass that separated them and forced herself into her chair. But what to do? Everything was exactly the way she liked it.
She stared at the pens to her right. Always the same colors, always in the same order. Damn it, she was so tired of her careful life. Yes, she dealt with anxiety, but if the last few days had taught her anything, it didn’t have to define her. She could manage it, even use it to her advantage, but she didn’t need to fear it.
She moved the green pen to the left side of the console and then laughed. This would not be what Jess would define as “living the technicolor life” but decades of behavior didn’t change overnight. So, moving the pen it is. Baby steps.
“Avery, you okay?” Ajay said into her headphones
Was she? She checked in with her body. She felt free. Free from the past. She wanted Matt in her life, but she also knew—in her bones—that if he didn’t want her, she would survive.
She had Momma and Jess and Wyatt. And she had a new understanding of who she was. Flawed, but whole. A little broken but loved. She would heal.
“Avery?” Ajay repeated.
“Yep. Okay.”
“Good, because I’m not accustomed to you pacing, followed by laughing. I thought maybe you’d finally cracked.”
Two weeks ago, that comment would have unsettled her, as if people thought she couldn’t handle the job. But now she knew he was teasing her—because he cared.
Yep, she had her family. And Ajay. And Celeste. All people who respected and cared for her. People she knew would keep loving her, even if she told them all her ugly truths. And it was time she let them know. Time she let them in.
Ajay was correct. She had finally cracked. Cracked open. These past three weeks with Matt helped her see her walls were unnecessary and she’d be forever thankful.
She hit her talk back button. “Hey, Ajay, thanks for always caring. In case you don’t know, I love you.”
His mouth fell open, and he gaped at her through the glass. “Like a brother?” he said, finally regaining his composure.
She chuckled. “Yes, like a brother and like the best damn producer in the business.”
She thought she saw a tinge of pink blossom on his dark cheeks.
She glanced at the clock. “Should we get started?”
“But Matt’s not here,” he said, eyeing the empty chair.
“I’m here. I’m here,” Matt said breathlessly, sliding into his chair and slapping on his headphones.
He was here. And she was thrilled. Because she hadn’t scared him off. And because she’d been ready to go on without him. Look at her rolling with the punches.
He met her gaze. “I’m sorry I’m late, but I had some business to attend to.”
Her eyes narrowed. “Before 6 a.m. on a Monday?”
He smiled. A full force Matt Taylor smile. God, how she’d missed that smile. She couldn’t help but return it and notice the way her stomach flipped and squeezed when he said, “Yep” and winked at her.
“On in fifty-nine seconds,” Ajay announced.
She pushed down the talk-back button, still holding Matt’s gaze. “You mean sixty seconds?” She turned her head to her producer to see his mouth hanging open. Again. She cocked her head and shrugged, smirking.
“Baby steps,” she said, turning back to Matt. She knew that anxiety wasn’t something that disappeared overnight. Or ever. But she was committed to thriving alongside it.
“Good for you, Mac,” Matt mouthed.
“Twenty seconds,” Ajay said, punching the even number.
She laughed. Ajay was testing her. Because he believed in her. Because he was her partner.
She pulled up her mic slider. “Good morning country fans and welcome to a brand-new week.”
She looked up at Matt and hoped it was also a brand-new beginning.
“As usual, we are going to fill our morning with great music and a great interview. But first, let’s check in with our co-host. Mr. Matt Taylor, I understand you had a lengthy practice this weekend. Are you nearly ready for the tour?” She couldn’t bring herself to ask how his weekend had been. She was finding her strength, but it was still a little too soon to rip off that Band-Aid.
Matt sucked in a deep breath and switched his mic on. She’d given him the perfect opening. All he had to do was step into it.
She was circling her hand as her eyes widened.
Dead air. He smirked. She was more relaxed this morning, but not that relaxed.
“Good morning, Avery,” he said, his voice cracking ever so slightly. He guessed the listeners wouldn’t notice, but she did. “Storyhill did, in fact, have a practice this weekend. We normally don’t have three weeks off between tour dates, so it’s important to run through the songs and touch base with each other at least once a week.”
Avery jumped back in. Their give and take smooth and easy now. “This tour will be all about your new record. What should your fans expect?”
“If the audience at the Ryman was any indication, I think people will enjoy it. It’s a mix of traditional country, a couple more upbeat tunes, and of course, a few love songs.”
Avery laughed. “That is what Grace O’Connor is known for, right?”
He sucked in a big breath. Here goes nothing. “Indeed. In fact, Grace and I co-wrote a song recently.” Recently meaning last night—after some serious begging on his part.
“Really?” Her eyes widened. “How is it that you’ve been here for three weeks and we’re just learning this?”
Shit. He hadn’t anticipated that question. Think, Mattie. “I wasn’t entirely sure it was ready. Grace convinced me to let the guys perform it—take it for a test drive—at a few tour stops.” Another deep breath. If he wasn’t careful, he was going to hyperventilate. “If you’re amenable, I brought it along”—he waved a thumb drive in the air— “and would love to play it, for the first time, for your listeners.”
Her eyebrows rose. He knew she didn’t like surprises, but he was hoping she’d make an exception.
“Well, you know I love exclusive reveals.” Emotion passed over her face. She didn’t seem mad, but her shoulders were tight.
“Baby steps,” he mouthed to her. She rolled her eyes and circled her hands, giving him permission to move forward.
“Great,” he said. “Ajay, anything special I need to do?”
“Easy as pie, mate. Slide it into the USB drive on your left and I’ll bring it up.”
He did as told, and his earphones filled with the opening notes.
Her head tipped to the side. “This isn’t a cappella.”
“It’s not. It’s just me on vocals and Grace on the piano. It’s an acoustic version of something I wrote several years ago. Grace helped with the music.”
His voice started and Amy-Lynn pulled her second headphone over her ear with a snap.
Here I am, thinking of you
Why did you leave, I wish I knew
We fell in love so long ago
It feels like my heart always belonged to you
I wish I could hear your voice, take your hand
Why did you leave, help me understand
You know we’re meant to be
It should be us against the world, you and me
If I could turn back the clock, I’d make you see
That your heart belongs with me
Come back, let’s give it another try
All I’m asking is, please don’t let the music die
He watched as realization dawned on her face and color bloomed across her chest and up her neck. At first, he thought he triggered a panic attack and then he realized she was trying with all her might to hold back tears.
The song faded just as the first tear rolled down her cheek.
He didn’t have to tell her the song was for her. She knew. But did she know what it meant?
He paused for only a second. She was an immensely private person, but something inside told him he had to do this on air.
He opened his mic and collected himself.
He held her gaze and spoke directly to her. So what if thousands of people were also listening? “That song was a little different from typical Storyhill stuff. When we take it on the road, we have an arrangement that will feature all the guys. I want to say a big thank you to Grace O’Connor who stayed up until the wee hours of the morning putting notes to my words.”
Surprise crossed her face, but he continued.
His stomach flipped, but he continued. “If you listened to my interview with Grace O’Connor, you know Avery and I met long before she interviewed me two weeks ago. We met when we were sixteen years old in a tiny town in Oklahoma. What I didn’t say in that interview was that it took me less than three minutes to fall hopelessly in love with her.”
A few more tears fell, but she didn’t take her eyes off him, and she didn’t stop him.
“And I’ve been hopelessly in love with her ever since. We took different paths after college, and it took fate to bring us back together. It’s like the universe knew the only way we could heal old wounds was to force us to sit across from each other for three weeks.
“Avery, you had the courage to tell me how you felt and ask for forgiveness, and my response was to give you a sandwich.”
A laugh gurgled out of her chest, thick with emotion.
“But I’m here now, and I want you to know that I’m betting on love. Betting that our love is stronger than any mistakes we’ve made. Let’s not let the music die. What do you say?”
Avery opened her mouth, and nothing came out.
“Christ, love,” Ajay said from the booth, “how can you say no to that? I’ve already gotten seventy-three emails saying that if you don’t want him, any number of listeners would be more than happy to make music with him.”
“Avery?” Matt said.
“Yes. I say yes! I love you too, Matt Taylor.”
“And with that,” Ajay interjected, “we are going to commercial and then some music. I think our host needs a moment to collect herself.”
Avery slid her headphones around her neck. “Do you mean it? Do you forgive me?”
Matt stood and walked to her side of the console, crouching down beside her. “I do. After you left yesterday, after berating myself for the sandwich thing, Grace said something that finally made everything clear.”
“What did she say?”
“That if your heart tells you she’s the one, there are very few things you can’t work out. And my heart has always known you are the one. But no more secrets, okay?”
She placed her hand on his cheek, and he leaned into it. “No more secrets. I promise.”
He leaned in to kiss her as Celeste burst into the studio.
“You two are ratings gold!”
“That’s not what this was about, Celeste,” Matt said, without taking his eyes off Avery.
“I know, but if you think I’m not going to capitalize on this, you are so wrong.” She waived a piece of paper in front of Matt’s face. It had three lines of typed text.
“What’s that?” Matt asked.
“It’s a very crude extension of your contract.”
He finally turned and looked at Celeste. “But I leave for tour in three days.”
“I want you to call in from the road. We can’t lose this momentum. What do you think?”
“It’s not my choice,” he told Celeste. “This is the Avery Lind show. It’s her choice. What do you say, Mac?”
Avery smiled softly. “A chance to spend every morning with Matt Taylor, whether here or away? I’m all in.”
“Partners?” Matt held his hand out to her.
“Forever,” she said and kissed him, “in every way.”
“We’re in, Celeste,” Matt said, not letting her hand drop.
Celeste clapped her hands. “Magic!”
They laughed. “She’s been telling us that from the beginning. Maybe we should have listened,” Avery said.
Matt dipped his head, touching his forehead to hers. “I think there is only one thing left to do.”
“Oh yeah, what’s that?”
“We need to send Addison May the biggest fruit basket we can find—or maybe a puppy.”
Avery laughed. “I love you, Matt Taylor.”
“I love you too, Amy-Lynn Avery Mac Lind McWilliams.”
THE END
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