Something I Need (xoxo Nashville Book 1) (25 page)

I
t was
open mic night at The Big Bang. Tanner and Dolly walked in together and joined Dean, Jack, and Jonte at their table.

“Thank god you’re back,” Dolly said, flinging herself at Jonte as she stood up to greet them.

Jonte hugged Dolly and tried to pretend things weren’t strained, but she suspected she wasn’t fooling anyone.

“Nice to see you.” Tanner pulled her into one of his bear hugs. “You okay?”

“Yeah.”

“I’m sorry you and Cash couldn’t work things out,” he whispered.

“Come on, it’s time you dueled with me,” Dean interrupted, grabbing Jonte’s hand and pulling her away from Tanner. “You’re gonna love this, Jack!” Dean called over his shoulder as they approached the stage.

“You’re a lifesaver.” She sighed, relieved to be away from the awkwardness of the situation.

The crowd went wild, when Dean and Jonte jumped onto the stage, immediately recognizing them, stomping their boots on the hardwood floors, and calling out.

“Evenin’, Nashville. Looky, looky who I found,” Dean hollered into the microphone and slid in front of his piano.

All teary again and overwhelmed by the reception, but so happy Jack was sitting in the crowd and seeing this, she took her seat opposite him.

“It’s great to be back,” she said, leaning closer to her microphone and giving a little wave.

“I think we need to do one of Jonte’s favorites to get her warmed up. What do y’all think?” Dean didn’t wait for a reply and immediately launched into Mumford & Sons’ “The Cave.”

Jonte let Dean do the intro and played the accent notes as he started the second verse. They fell effortlessly into their familiar repertoire. It was easy and fun and everything she’d ever dreamed of. God, she’d missed Dean. It was going to be damn hard to walk away from this. They had something special that she hadn’t been able to replicate with the performers in Ohio. Something elusive, something she wasn’t sure she would ever find with another performer.

The crowd roared when Jonte sang along. She glanced at their table and found Jack grinning and cheering too. Her heart was oh so happy in that moment.

They battled out the rest of the song, teasing and pushing each other through their performance. The crowd loved them and couldn’t get enough, rewarding them with a standing ovation.

“Your turn now.” Dean pointing at Jonte and left the stage.

She smiled at him and knew exactly what she was going to play.

* * *

C
ash climbed the stairs
, clutching his guitar and not quite believing what he was about to do. The world had gone insane. Or maybe he had. Yeah, he definitely had.

Fuck, this had to work. It just had to. The stone and his declaration of love had been an absolute bust earlier today. But maybe, just maybe he’d made a small dent in that armor she’d put up to keep him out.

Melancholy music wafted down the stairs and stopped him in his tracks. Jonte. It was definitely Jonte. Of that he was sure, despite never having seen her play live.

With his back now pressed hard against the wall, he listened to the lyrics. Clearly they were meant for him, not that she would have had any idea he was here. But it was a message he was receiving loud and clear. Something about his jar of hearts and the fact that she was strong and wasn’t coming back to his arms.

Christ. Was there any point in even walking in there now? Maybe he hadn’t made a dint after all?

No.

He had to do this.

This wasn’t how their story was supposed to end. And maybe it was more perfect for him to bust onto the stage right after her?

Cash knocked his head back against the brick wall and let out a long breath. He could do this. He could.

He spun and continued up the stairs. And there she was, seated at one of the shiny black grand pianos, curls falling around her face, her lips almost touching the microphone while her fingers caressed the piano keys. She had captured the attention of every person inside, seduced them with her voice. And he could see why. She was enchanting, hypnotizing. She dared you to listen and not fall in love with her. Amazing. She had been born to come here. Born to entertain and share her gift with the world. Nashville needed her just as much as he did.

A deafening roar ripped through the bar. Shit. How was anyone supposed to follow that? Let alone him and his half-assed attempt to woo her.

Jonte stood up from the piano. She cocked her head to one side and did a little curtsey. Damn if it wasn’t one of the cutest things he’d ever seen her do.

Love. Pure and simple and stronger than anything he’d ever known flowed through his body, filling all the dark spaces and making him whole.

“Thanks, everyone. It was a pleasure playing for y’all again.”

Cash smiled at her use of
y’all
.

It was now or never. No second chances. He slung his guitar over his shoulder and pushed through the crowd, all the way up to the stage.

Jonte’s eyes collided with his when she moved to step down off the stage.

“Cash?” she said, her eyebrows furrowing together, shock plastered all over her face.

Unsure of what the fuck the protocol was for open mic nights, Cash stepped around her and up onto the stage. He approached the microphone that was attached to the piano Jonte had just been sitting at.

“Isn’t she brilliant?” He gestured at the still-dazed Jonte.

Applause rolled through the bar again. They loved her as much as he did.

“I hope you lovely people don’t mind, but I need to hijack your night for a few minutes. Just so Jonte knows how much I love her, because I do.”

Whistles and claps echoed, and over all of that, Cash heard Dolly yell out, “Finally!” She was kneeling on her seat, Tanner next to her, both of them clapping along with the crowd. Jack was there too, his glare a sharp contrast to Dolly’s grin. It didn’t matter. He’d deal with Jack later.

“Please don’t,” Jonte whispered, her eyes imploring him to stop.

“If this is what it takes, then I have to.”

A hush descended upon the bar as Cash sat down on her stool, his legs spread wide, the guitar resting across his right thigh.

His fingers carefully strummed the introduction to Muse’s “Madness”
and he leaned closer to the microphone. Hungry nerves snapped away at the pit of his stomach, but he pushed them aside and sang the first few lines, his eyes never leaving hers.

The song was perfect – he had truly gone mad trying to let her go, trying to forget. Dr. Parker was helping him realize he deserved to be happy, that he couldn’t live in fear, not really living at all. He wasn’t cured. Far from it. But he was actively trying to deal with his baggage.

By the time he hit the second verse, Jonte was turning away.

No.

She couldn’t leave.

But she was.

“Don’t go,” he said into the microphone, his voice reverberating throughout the bar.

But it didn’t stop her. She pushed through the crowd. Cash threw down the guitar and rushed off the stage after her. Not again. He wouldn’t let her walk away again.

Cash pushed through the mass of people, past their looks of pity and the consoling pats on the back. None of it mattered. The only thing that mattered was getting to her and making her see.

“Enough. Just leave her be,” Jack said, intercepting Cash.

“Not now.” Cash tried to push past him.

“You’ve had your chance. She’s not interested,” Jack replied, grabbing Cash.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Damn it. He had to get to her.

“I have to try.” Cash shrugged out of Jack’s grip, shoving him into the crowd and bolting out the door.

Jonte was already halfway down the stairs by the time he reached them. He hurried, taking them two at a time, and managed to push against the door just as she tried to open it.

Christ, it was just like last time.

“Don’t go,” he murmured in her ear, not daring to drive his body up against hers this time but desperately wanting to.

“I can’t do this,” she whispered, her voice low and sad.

“I love you. I’m sorry it took me so long to get to this point.” His hand moved down the door and stroked her fingers and then up her arm.

So slowly, she turned to face him, several stray tears escaping from her eyes.

“Stop running from me.”

“I can’t.” She shook her head.

He didn’t believe her and leaned in. Tentatively, he brushed his lips against hers and then pressed his body closer, crushing her breasts against his chest, running his hand through those soft curls.

And then they were falling. Somehow she’d opened the door. Cash tried to help her as she stumbled backwards, but she quickly righted herself and pushed him away.

“What do I have to do, Jonte? Please. Tell me what I have to do.”

“I don’t want you to do anything.”

“We need to talk. There are things I need to tell you.”

“I wanted to talk a month ago, Cash,” she bit out. “It’s always on your terms, isn’t it?”

She wiped tears away with the back of her hand and bolted down Broadway.

Shit.

How did she have the ability to always cut through everything and speak the truth?

Jack and Dean scrambled down the stairs and out the door he was still holding open. He had no idea what they had or hadn’t seen.

“I’ll get my truck,” Dean said to Jack, completely ignoring Cash.

“I’m not going to tell you again. Stay away from my sister.” Jack rammed Cash into the brick wall.

He let Jack do it and he let Jonte go, again. Dean and Jack chased after her. Fuck. Could it actually be over?

“
J
onte
!”

Running down Broadway, Jonte heard Jack calling out to her, but she didn’t stop.

Cash. Nashville. Dean. Cash. Nashville. Dean.

Her mind couldn’t clear the chaos. She wanted to be in Nashville, wanted to play with Dean, but Cash wouldn’t leave her alone. What was he even doing there tonight? And with his guitar? He’d told her he’d never play again. But then he had. For her.

“Jonte!” Jack called again.

She wiped tears from her face, trying to regain her composure, certain he was catching up to her.

“Damn it, Jonte, will you stop!” Jack yelled out right as Dean’s truck pulled up alongside the curb.

“Get in,” Dean puffed out. He must have really hauled his ass out of there to get his truck and catch up to her so quickly.

“Why wouldn’t you stop?” Jack grabbed hold of her arm and tugged her in close. She pushed him away, not in the mood for being coddled, and instead looked at Dean.

“Were you in on that?” she snapped.

If he was, then they were over and she would be completely friendless and alone, just like she’d been almost three months ago when she’d first arrived. Hell, she was ready to hop a damn plane back to Australia right about now, confident Jack would happily escort her home.

“No.” Dean shook his head and jumped out of the truck, approaching her cautiously. “But if he loves you and you love him, then what’s the problem?”

“He doesn’t really love me.” Jonte sobbed, the tears she’d finally managed to subdue, breaking free again.

Dean wrapped her up in a hug and stroked her back. “I don’t know, he looked like a man in love to me. Like I said when we drove out to Ohio, I think something spooked him before.”

“He just thinks he loves me. He doesn’t. Not really. And even if he did, he’s so hot and cold, I can’t keep up with what he wants!”

“Let me take you home.” Dean nudged her towards the still-open truck door.

“She’s not going back to them,” Jack said, reaching out to grab hold of her again.

“I really don’t think I can be around Dolly right now.”

“She just wants the two of you to be happy,” said Dean.

“She needs to let shit be.”

“You may be right.” Dean chuckled and readjusted his hat. “But she has a good heart, truly she does.”

“I know.” Jonte nodded. “Doesn’t make her interference any easier to take when it’s your life she’s ruining.”

“Why don’t you come back to mine?”

“So things can be totes awkward with Seb? I don’t think so.” She shook her head again.

“Come back and stay with me tonight. We’ll figure the rest of it out tomorrow.” Jack’s tone was kind but firm. He was in full-blown big brother mode now, which would make coming to any rational decisions even more complicated.

Jonte nodded. It was the most logical solution. She stepped up into the truck and slid across the bench seat, into the middle seat so Jack could sit on the passenger’s side and Dean could drive them back to Jack’s hotel.

T
he next day
, Jonte was back at The Big Bang rehearsing for her audition. Dean and Jack watched her try to pull herself together, but it didn’t matter how many times she played, stopped, started and tried again – she couldn’t get the image of Cash sitting on her stool and singing out of her head. Couldn’t focus on her own music. She even tried switching pianos, but it didn’t help.

“There’s no shame in bowing out and coming home,” Jack said after her latest failed attempt to run through one of her songs.

“No disrespect to you, Jack, but you need to see the bigger picture, Jonte.” Dean approached the piano, his leg nudging hers and forcing her to shimmy over so he could sit down on the stool with her. “Remember what we spoke about on the way to Ohio? You need to do what’s best for you. You can cut Dolly and Cash out of your life, if you think that’s best.”

“You think I don’t have her best interests at heart?” Jack scowled at Dean.

“I never said that.” Dean’s voice was calm and even. He turned back to Jonte. “You still want to be a star, right?”

Jonte nodded and rested her head on his shoulder. “Why is it so hard?”

“Because you wouldn’t appreciate it otherwise.” Dean rubbed her shoulder. “You’re on a journey, J. Everything, even the bad shit, happens for a reason. You will come out of this stronger, I promise you.”

Jonte’s phone rang, vibrating on the top of the piano. Jack swiped it up before she had a chance to answer it and turned it off.

“Thanks,” she said, guessing it must have been Dolly, again. Jonte knew she’d need to see Dolly. She just couldn’t face her right now.

“You need a distraction.” Jack tousled his hair, just like Cash did when he was stressed or nervous.

“Now there’s an idea. I have the perfect place.” Dean nudged Jonte’s leg with his own. “You know your songs and you’re just freaking now. Pack up your guitar and let’s get outta here.”

J
onte had
no idea where Dean was taking them, and he insisted it was a surprise. They’d headed out of downtown Nashville, and now Jonte couldn’t stop her right knee from bobbing up and down. Jack rested his hand on it.

“It’s going to be fine. Everything’s going to be fine,” Jack said, rubbing her knee.

When Jonte saw the road signs advertising The Grand Ole Opry, she was pretty damn sure that’s where Dean was taking them, and she was right.

An enormous acoustic guitar statue, at least thirty feet tall, stood outside the entrance. Dean insisted on taking a photo of Jack and Jonte standing beside it to commemorate the moment. He promised to upload it to Facebook for Jonte later, not wanting to reveal to anyone where they were right now.

Inside, Dean arranged for them to get tickets to the next behind the scenes tour, despite Jack’s protests that he’d pay, Jonte looked around the foyer area, already in awe. She knew why he’d brought her here.

This was her big picture. This was her goal.

“One day you’ll be getting ready in here,” Dean whispered as the group was led into the Women of Country dressing room.

Jonte shut her eyes and imagined herself in there, preparing to go on stage. Sitting on the baby-blue art deco furniture and psyching herself up for a performance. She let out a long breath and opened her eyes again.

The tour guide and group continued, exiting the room. Their guide prattled on about how over a million people visited The Grand Ole Opry every year and told a story about Carrie Underwood that Jonte only half-listened to as they made their way through several other dressing rooms.

When they finally hit the main stage, Jonte was captivated by its understated beauty and ambiance. It was such an iconic stage, its casual barn-like backdrop contrasting with the rows and rows of seating in the auditorium.

Dean encouraged Jonte to pose, quickly snapping a few more pictures on his phone. “One day these will be worth money,” he said, right before grabbing her and pulling her closer for a selfie of the two of them. She smiled and then asked Dean to take one of her and Jack on the stage too.

T
he afternoon sped by
, and soon the trio were walking into The Silver Dollar Saloon. Tonight Jonte had opted for her red, black, and white cowgirl boots and the white lace dress Seb had picked out that day in Franklin. It wasn’t as ostentatious as the black and nude one she’d worn last time, but that was deliberate. Tonight she was playing it straight, going country all the way, from her clothes to her song choices.

They spied Dolly and Tanner sitting at a table, an oversized bunch of flowers in front of them.

Jack shook his head before saying, “I’ll grab us some drinks.”

Holding Jonte’s guitar in one hand, Dean threw his other arm around Jonte and walked her to the table.

“Hey,” Dolly said, looking up at them, definitely more subdued than normal.

“Hi.” Jonte smiled meekly.

“Nervous?” Tanner pulled out a chair for her.

“She’s got this.” Dean patted Jonte on the back and took the seat next to hers.

Jonte surveyed the room. Was Cash lurking somewhere in the crowd? She jumped when Dolly’s hand rested on hers.

“He’s not coming tonight.” Dolly read her mind and nodded to the flowers. “He sent those for you. There’s a card.”

Jonte eyed the flowers and the small card wrapped up in a cream envelope.

“Read it later,” Dean said, his voice firm. He pocketed the card, removing the temptation. “I’ll keep it safe.”

The performances started and Jonte cheered along with the crowd as pesky butterflies skittered around in her tummy. Her foot tapped non-stop and her fingers drummed on the table. The other contestants were good. Really good. And an absolute mixed bag, with older performers that had to be in their 60’s or 70’s, all the way down to a young guy who didn’t even look old enough to be in here. There were a couple of other soloists like Jonte and even a quartet of fiddle players. But the majority of the performers tonight were bands. And boy did the crowd love those bands.

Finally it was Jonte’s turn. She carried her guitar up on stage and rested it next to the piano, sat down, and launched straight into her version of Taylor Swift’s “Forever & Always.” With her eyes shut, she tried to lose herself in the music, her hands playing automatically. She poured everything she had into the song and the crowd responded favourably, applauding as she wrapped it up.

“Thank you.” Jonte smiled, her head and heart happy. She slid off the stool, reached for her guitar and stepped up to the microphone stand that a stagehand had moved into the centre of the stage. She scanned the crowd, searching, pretending she wasn’t looking for Cash. But of course she was. It didn’t matter. He wasn’t out there, just like Dolly had said.

Jonte strummed her guitar, thankful she’d learned how to play, but disappointed she wasn’t anywhere near as proficient as some of the other performers tonight. She leaned in closer to the microphone and sang Garth Brooks’ “Friends in Low Places”, tapping her boots to the beat
.
The crowd hollered and stomped, recognizing the classic country song. Her nerves disappeared the more enthusiastic the crowd got, encouraging her with their cheers and dancing. It was just like being at The Big Bang. The stage was her home.

She finished up her song and dipped down into a curtsey, roars of approval tearing through the small, overcrowded bar.

There.

She’d done everything she could.

It was out of her hands now.

Jonte left the stage and made her way through the crowd slowly. She was stopped and congratulated every few steps, with random people pulling her in for hugs, patting her on the back and declaring their undying love. It was surreal and Jonte was floating, high on a buzz from her performance and the praise.

When she eventually made it back to Jack and her friends, she found Seb standing there. He didn’t hesitate in stepping forwards and pulling her into a hug.

“You were brilliant.” He let her go again and quickly stepped back.

“I can’t believe you came.” She shook her head, barely able to speak and on the verge of tears at his heartfelt and selfless gesture of support.

“Of course I came. This was important to you and you’re my friend.”

Jack jumped up and hugged her too. “That was amazing, J.”

“Thank you.”

* * *

C
ash sat
on a stool at the bar, watching his friends across the room, a ridiculous black Stetson atop his head pulled down low to cast a shadow over his face. Worn with a pair of Wrangler jeans he hated and a checkered shirt, it was his pathetic attempt at a disguise. Christ, not even Dolly knew he was here tonight.

He couldn’t miss Jonte’s big performance, and having seen Seb wander in just before she took the stage, he was so glad he’d come. Even if she never knew he was there.

The last performer wrapped up their song and the bar was buzzing with anticipation of who would make it through to the final round. Jonte was a shoo-in. And no, being madly in love with her wasn’t clouding his judgement; she simply was that good.

The three judges stepped up onto the stage. Cash clapped along with the crowd as each act was re-introduced and called up for the all-important announcement. Four out of the twelve acts were going through to the top twelve, the other two finals having already been held.

“And the first act going through to our top twelve is Fiddle Me Four,” said the judge with the long white beard.

The crowd cheered.

Good call.

The female quartet of fiddle players were unique and sounded pretty good, you know, for fiddle players.

“The second act going through tonight is Maddison’s Gun
.
”

The three guys from that band jumped up and down and fist bumped each other to celebrate.

Please let her get through.

Cash clapped and the judge looked down, ready to read the next name off his piece of paper.

“And the third act to make it through tonight is Cotton Country Cowboy.”

Again, Cash cheered, applauding the young male soloist who was wearing a huge shit-eating grin. What in the hell was wrong with the judges? The crowd loved Jonte tonight and she had more talent than all the acts put together.