Chapter 2

I had waited for this moment my whole life. I was finally on my own for the first time … for better or for worse. I knew that it was going to be difficult, but I was up for the adventure. I looked down at my purse that I had made from a pair of blue jeans setting on the floorboard between the bucket seats and remembered the thousand dollars I had stashed there. I had worked hard at the local pizzeria, saving what little tips I got and my measly paychecks, and had finally saved five hundred dollars. To my surprise, Dad had matched it and I now had enough to live on for a week or two.

My plan was to rent an apartment, or at least a room, for a while, then I needed to find a job. I hoped to get a job singing in the city, but I wasn’t that naïve, knowing that Nashville was crawling with singers who had come to Nashville and were still awaiting their big breaks. I vowed to try and find a singing job first, but had resolved to work as a waitress if I needed to. Yes, I had a lot of work ahead of me, but a thrill ran through me at the thought of the adventure.

I cranked on the little radio in my car and flipped the channels until Free Falling by Tom Petty came on. I started singing it at the top of my lungs with the windows open. I was into the music and lost in my thoughts of Nashville when I happened to look over. A carload of great looking guys was driving beside me, all listening to me sing. I rolled my eyes, smiling as I turned my attention back to the road.

“Hey. You sound good!” one of the guys yelled as he folded his arms in the window.

I turned back, and he gave me a wink as I laughed. I wasn’t offended or worried, even though I was alone. They looked harmless enough. They waved as they drove ahead. NASHVILLE OR BUST was written in white shoe polish across the back of their black hatchback Camaro. I guessed that I wasn’t the only one wanting to try my luck at the big time. I laughed, shaking my head as they sped on, whooping and hollering as they leaned out the windows, obviously enjoying their new freedom, too.

I shook my head, smiling as heat filled my cheeks at having been busted, but it felt good to hear. A moment later, the song ended and Garth Brooks’ If Tomorrow Never Comes came on the radio and I started singing along. It was a sad song, but had such a great message, that if he were to pass away, would the love he gave her be enough to last the rest of her life.

I belted it out at the top of my lungs, not really thinking of the meaning behind the lyrics, as the sky turned dark and shoots of pink, purple, and orange streaked across the sky. I loved the tune and, as I said, the message was wonderful. My thoughts went immediately to my parents and their love. It was nice having a love like that. I wondered if I would ever have a chance at that kind of love: a once-in-a-lifetime love.

I quickly brushed the thought aside as the song ended and a fast song came on. It was getting late and my stomach started growling, so I stopped at a McDonald’s, wanting to save my money. I was going to go through the drive through, wanting to make time, when I saw the familiar black hatchback Camaro with NASHVILLE OR BUST across the back window. So, I pulled in.

What the hell? I thought to myself, laughing. What were the chances? I almost chickened out and drove on, but pulled my car into an empty spot a few spaces down from their Camaro, locked up, and headed inside.

Inside the McDonald’s, I didn’t look around, but just walked straight up to the counter and placed my order instead.

“I’m freeeeeee falling,” a male voice sang behind me as I laughed.

“Go ahead. Laugh it up,” I said, then turned around to see the brightest crystal blue eyes I’d ever seen on a guy before. He was wearing blue jeans and a blue-jean jacket with a gray T-shirt that hinted at the tight muscles that lay beneath.

“Hey. I’m not judging,” he said, then stepped up beside me as a strand of his dark blonde hair fell across his forehead. “Free falling,” he sang under his breath as he looked up innocently, and then gave me a wink.

I pushed his arm. Although I had just met him, there was something about him that made me feel as if I’d known him for years.

“Hey. Would you like to join my friends and me?” he asked,

gesturing to his three buddies sitting at a table, kidding around.

“No. I’ll just take mine to go,” I said, feeling a bit uncomfortable sitting with a bunch of guys that I’d just met in the middle of nowhere by myself. I wasn’t stupid.

“May I join you, then?” he asked, raising his eyebrows. Then, he leaned in and whispered conspiratorially, “I’m not a serial killer. I promise.”

“Yeah. That’s what they all say,” I joked as I took my tray from the counter. “It’s nice to meet you, though.”

“Likewise,” he replied. “Hey. You like ice cream?”

“What?”

“Come on. Who doesn’t like ice cream?”

“I guess … why?”

“Let me buy you some ice cream, at least,” he said. “It’s the least I can do for taking up your time.”

I took a deep breath as I looked away, and then back into his ice-blue eyes. “You promise you’re not a serial killer?” I asked, only half serious.

“Promise,” he replied, as he crossed his chest. “Cross my heart and hope to die.”

I couldn’t help but laugh. “Not funny.”

He shrugged. “Well?”

I nodded for him to follow me as I carried my tray to a table. We were in a public place, after all.

“Yes!” he said, pumping the air with his fist.

“Yeah. Like that wasn’t awkward,” I teased, but he ignored my comment.

“You like hot fudge?”

“Who doesn’t?”

He grinned. “A girl after my own heart. I’ll be right back,” he replied, then bought two hot fudge sundaes and hurried across the restaurant to his friends to grab his tray. I couldn’t help but notice how cute he was and how defined the muscles in his body were.