Page 13 of The Perfect Melody

I hear the soft whoosh of the door opening but still can’t tear my gaze away from my reflection.

“Holy shit.” Liam stops just behind me, and my baby-blue eyes meet his hazel ones in the mirror. “I didn’t think the dark hair would make such a difference but honestly betweenthat, the glasses, and your clothes…” He shakes his head in fascination. “If I weren’t already in the know I’d probably walk right by you on the street.”

The back of my throat tightens, and my eyes turn glossy with unshed tears.

Liam uses a gentle hand on my shoulder to turn me to face him. “Hey, are you OK? If you don’t like it, it doesn’t have to be forever. You can always change it back to the blo?—”

“It’s not that,” I assure him, then swallow around the lump in my throat. “I like it. I… I look likeme.” I drop my gaze to the floor, embarrassed by my emotional display over something so simple.Except it’s not simple, is it? For years my sense of self has been completely stripped away until only Melody Night was left. Really, I should have anticipated that making these changes to my appearance—choosing how I present myself for the first time in years—would elicit an emotional response. A laugh tinged with a hint of hysteria spills from my lips. “It’s weird, right?”

“So weird,” Liam agrees. “But in the best way.” He wraps me into a hug, resting his chin on the top of my head for a beat before stepping back. “You ready to show Bails? She’s been baking cookies to distract herself from the excitement of the big reveal—her words not mine.”

I perk up at that. Bailey’s an awesome baker. “Sure, let’s go.”

Bailey’s reaction doesn’t disappoint. She’s in the middle of transferring a cookie from a baking sheet to a cooling rack and nearly sends the treat flying when we walk into the kitchen area. “Oh my God! Girl, you look amazing. How do you feel?”

Her enthusiasm is contagious and I find myself smiling widely, an expression that feels unfamiliar in its authenticity, as I reply, “I love it. Thank you for picking it up for me.”

She waves me off. “What are friends for? Oh, this is so exciting. I made cookies—you have to try one while they’re still warm.”

The rest of her excited chatter fades into the background, my mind still stuck on what she said. What are friends for? I always thought Bailey put up with me because Liam and I are so close and because she’s simply one of the sweetest people I’ve ever met, but to hear that she considers us friends? Another chip from the block of ice around my heart falls away. Two friends may not sound like much, but I’d take Liam and Bailey’s friendship over a thousand false friends any day.

* * *

It’s possible I underestimated how difficult I’d find the drive from Liam and Bailey’s place in London to Pine Grove. I haven’t driven myself anywhere for years and, thanks to moving to the US at sixteen, I’ve never driven on the left side of the road. The motorway wasn’t so bad, but now I’m navigating winding country roads, and my hands are in danger of cramping thanks to my white-knuckled grip on the steering wheel.Seriously, why are these roads so narrow?

Maybe I’d have been better off staying with Liam and Bailey in London instead of going it alone, but the idea of escaping to somewhere nobody knows or cares who I am was too tempting. Still, giving myself a couple more days to adjust to the six-hour time difference probably would have been wise, but patience isn’t exactly my strong suit.

Liam assured me none of the locals will bother me. I was sceptical about that, but after Bailey’s help with changing up my appearance, I feel much better. Dark hair and glasses are hardly groundbreaking as far as disguises go, but sometimes the simplest solutions are the most effective. Add in my new clothes,which are very muchnotMelody Night approved, and both Bailey and Liam assured me I’m almost unrecognisable. Thank God for online shopping—it’s how I ordered what I’ve since dubbed my ‘Cassie clothes’ to my home in Nashville while I was stuck in LA.

I release my death grip on the steering wheel long enough to take a sip from the truly gigantic thermos of coffee Bailey was kind enough to hand me before I set off in Liam’s car. The caffeine’s been doing a good enough job of keeping me awake, but I’m still looking forward to an early night tonight. The two nights I spent at Bailey and Liam’s place were both kind of late ones since we were all having too much fun catching up to turn in early.

At least watching the view out my windshield change from grey concrete to rolling green hills has finally quieted my busy mind. Guilt over leaving Ant to deal with the fallout of my disappearing act hung over me from the moment I parted ways with him in the foyer of Liam’s building. I keep reminding myself Ant agreed to the plan—well, most of it anyway. Besides, there’s nothing to be done about it now. I made my choice and I’m sticking with it.

Between the signed note I left Miranda, Ant, and the video I posted to my socials thanking my fans for their support and letting them know I’d be taking a break to recharge, my absence shouldn’t cause any concern. My mother and the label may not like it, but neither of them has a say over my movements. This last tour fulfilled the last of my obligations to the label, and at this point I can’t bring myself to care if leaving means they don’t offer me another contract. Not when I know for certain that continuing the way I have been will certainly be detrimental to my health.

Before logging out of my social media, I changed all my passwords so Miranda can’t post anything spinning this timeaway into something it’s not. She’ll be furious, but managing her emotions is no longer my problem—at least, not until I return to Nashville. The fallout of my escape is future Melody’s problem. For the time being, I’m just Cassie, and she doesn’t answer to anyone.

Country music plays softly thanks to the cable connecting my phone to the car’s speakers, and I navigate the winding roads filled with puddles left from previous rainfall. The sky is a gloomy grey full of heavy clouds threatening rain, but the lack of sunshine does nothing to dampen my mood. As I make my way towards Pine Grove, breathing in the fresh country air flowing through the window I’ve cracked open, that dangerous spark of hope in my chest sputters to life once again.

* * *

Hope is for suckers, and I’m the biggest one of them all. I planned my arrival to Pine Grove perfectly. Liam’s car isn’t connected to me in any way. He booked my room at a B&B and checked with the owner that I’d be able to extend my stay using the card details on file if I wanted to. Thanks to my freshly dyed hair and new wardrobe, I look nothing like my usual self. Everything was set up for me to quietly slip into town unnoticed. I should have known it wouldn’t be that easy.

A tabby cat darts in front of my car, and I instinctively swerve to avoid hitting it. “Shit!” Slamming my foot on the brake, panic squeezes my chest and my hands grip the steering wheel even tighter when nothing happens.Fuck, this is not good. The water beneath the tires, coupled with my sudden change in direction has left me aquaplaning, and there’s nothing I can do to stop it. I’m rapidly approaching a low wooden fence with no chance of slowing down. Bracing myself for impact, I squeeze my eyesshut, a terrified squeak escaping me as I plough right through the fence and careen into nearby picnic tables.

Silence. After the cacophony of the accident, it’s jarring for my panting breaths to be the only sound. I sit there for a moment, doing a mental scan of my body, relieved when I realise I’m fine—physically at least. The only thing that could make this awful situation worse is if I or anyone else needed to go to hospital. Once the frantic beat of my heart settles to something closer to normal, I slowly open my eyes, pry my hands from the wheel, then take in the wreckage before me. I appear to have driven right into what I’m sure was a beautiful beer garden before I came along. Thank God the grey clouds deterred anyone from sitting outside today.

Shit, this is such a mess. I let out a slow breath, my hands trembling in my lap with the adrenaline still coursing through my system. OK, first thing’s first, I need to go inside and speak to whoever’s in charge of this place. Hopefully it’s independently owned, and they’ll be happy for me to pay for the damages in cash rather than getting insurance involved. The last thing I need is a paper trail that will lead my mother right to me, or for the story of my destruction of property to end up on the news.

Set on my immediate course of action, I unclip my seatbelt feeling marginally more settled. I’ll figure out what to do about the car after dealing with the mess I’ve made. Chewing on my lip, I wonder if the vehicle will even start…Nope.One problem at a time.

I open the car door only to come face to face with pale, freckled arms folded over a broad chest. The word Bowman’s is stamped across the black material of the imposing figure’s t-shirt in bright white. My gaze travels up over the logo, past a set of full lips currently turned down in a scowl and framed by a short, neat copper beard, halting when I meet a pair of green eyes alight with anger. This must be the owner.Oh crap.

Chapter Six

Austin

I’m walkingMum through the bar, wanting her to be the first to see all the updates, when a horrendous racket sounds from outside.