Lexie had her head ducked, and I had a feeling it was to hide emotions she couldn’t quite shove down. She took one of the plates, the one whose omelet was slightly smaller, and sat on a stool on the far side of her mother, digging in. I sensed Liv had something to say, and that she’d prefer to say it in private.
“Liv, you got a balcony?”
She nodded, pointed. “Off the master. Lucas can show you.”
I took a plate, accepted a mug of coffee from Lucas, and met Lexie’s eyes. “I’m gonna take my food to the balcony. Yeah?”
She looked almost panicked at being left alone with her mom, eyes wide, fearful, nervous. But she nodded. “Yeah,” she whispered.
Lucas went with me, taking a mug of his own, showed me the balcony; there was a cute little wrought iron bistro set, a tiny table and two tiny chairs. I sat at the table while Lucas leaned meaty forearms on the balcony railing and glanced sideways at me.
“So. Myles North.”
I ate a few bites. “Lucas Badd.”
He grinned. “Relax. I ain’t gonna go all…what’s that term Rome uses? Fanboy?”
I laughed. “That’s a relief. It’s tricky enough fending off a squealing sixteen-year-old girl with a celebrity crush. Ain’t sure how I’d feel about trying to fend off the same from you.”
He smirked. “I like outlaw country better, anyway.” He paused. “Lived a good two-thirds of my life down Oklahoma way. Spent more’n a few hours polishing a barstool with my fat backside, listenin’ to your pa and grandpa play.”
I ate, washed it down with coffee. “You make a hell of an omelet.” I finished, stood up to join him at the rail. “I came up on the scene doing mostly outlaw covers. It’s honestly where I’m most comfortable as a performer, but the sound my fan base wants is just a little newer. One of these days, I’m gonna do a special album of covers of Dad’s and Grandpa’s music.”
Lucas and I were content to sip coffee in silence for a while, and it was honestly a refreshing moment—the only other person I knew who was as comfortable in companionable silence as me was Crow. Lucas seemed to be the same way, and I appreciated it.
“How’d you calm her down?”
I laughed. “Not sure I did. I think you did more than me.”
He chuckled. “She was spittin’ nails when she left, came back only chewin’ on ’em.”
I shifted, unsure how to answer. “We…talked.”
His chuckle was…entirely male. “Ah. The talk.” Meaning, he understood exactly what I meant.
I ducked my head, grinning. “Sometimes it’s the only thing that works. She’s got a hell of a temper. I mean, I’ve known some folks with explosive tempers like she’s got, but mostly it flares hot and dies quick. Lexie? Don’t always die off so fast.” Being around Lucas’s Oklahoma drawl made the Texas in me come out strong, the twang in my voice deepening.
“How long have you two been seein’ each other, if you don’t mind me asking?”
I sighed. Found myself opening a little. “Honestly, I ain’t even sure what to call what we are. She won’t talk about what we are.”
He nodded. “Well, I’m just an old reformed drunk, but I can tell you one thing—that there female has a hell of a lot of pain in her, and she’s got it bottled up way deep down. Sooner or later, it’s all gonna pop, my friend. You care about her, so you just make sure you’re there to catch the pieces when it does.”
I nodded. “Yeah. If she’ll let me.”
“Be there? Or catch the pieces?”
I swallowed hard. “Both, honestly.”
“Just do what you can do. And sometimes, a woman’ll push, hoping you’re stubborn enough and strong enough to not push back, but to let her push without letting her push you off.”
“You don’t know Lexie. Shit, I don’t think I really know her. I think she keeps a lot of her real self bottled up with the rest of whatever it is she’s hiding in there. I ain’t sayin’ she’s fake, but…”
“She’s puttin’ on a show to protect what she don’t think the world can handle or accept.”
“Right.” I shrugged. “She don’t let anyone get close. When she decides to push, she pushes fuckin’ hard. And I mean, I ain’t made of stone, you know? I care about that girl, a lot. But if she won’t let me, how long’m I s’posed to keep hangin’ around her gettin’ pushed off?” I laughed self-consciously. “Man, five minutes around you and I’m twangin’ like I’m a twelve-year-old Texas hick again.”
“What, your label tell you to sound less like a good ol’ boy?”
“Well, no. My best friend Crow and I own our own label—my band mates are minor shareholders, too. It was my manager, Mick. He wanted me to sound southern, but not too southern. And, honestly, the more time I spend away from Texas and around people who aren’t from the South, the more the accent fades anyway. It doesn’t ever go all the way away, but when I’m around someone like you who’s got a thick accent, mine comes out.”
“Crow’s a good fella. I like him. Treats Charlie like a real queen.”
I nodded. “Crow…is one of a kind. A truly rare human. And for as good as he treats Charlie, she brings the best out in him. Gives him some soft edges, and for as long as I’ve known him, he’s been not much but sharp and hard through and through. Didn’t even know he had a soft side, most of the time. Charlie’s amazing. Be good to see her again.”
“Best advice I can give you—and I know you didn’t ask—is to just be there. And if she tries to push you away, don’t let her. Keep on not letting her, and eventually she either will let you get close, or she’ll opt herself out of your life, and either
