Page 4 of Heartbeat Highway (Love Along Route 14)

L ily—one week later

“Ugh, that was brutal.” Lianna Richardson tosses her long black hair over her shoulder and sets her Burberry backpack over her shoulders. It’s too small to hold her laptop, so she has a matching computer bag over the other.

“Definitely.” I swallow, slipping my computer and water bottle into the discount tote I found at Marshalls last year when shopping with Bo.

Spending time with people like Lianna—who is rich and good at everything—was a huge culture shock for me when I first moved out to LA for law school.

I’m from this tiny town in Door County, Wisconsin.

At first, people were fascinated by it. You have goat races?

You mix cranberries and wine? The allure of it wore off quickly.

Without money and status, I quickly faded to the C list.

It’s a good thing I have Bo. And K, of course, though he doesn’t really like hearing about my hometown, either.

He went home with me this past winter break, and he was bored after a day and a half.

Which I know because he talked about how bored he was for the rest of the week, until he got an Emergency Band Text and left early.

I didn’t ask Bo about the band emergency. I try to trust K, really I do. I’m sure he wouldn’t have lied just to get out of spending the holidays in St. Olaf. Even if he did miss Snow Angel Fest.

When Bo visited—his mom in Sacramento travels a lot with her various boyfriends and he refuses to spend holidays with his dad—it was just pure, easy fun. We went snowmobiling and ice skating and crashed a basement party being thrown by some people I knew from high school.

I guess that’s the difference between friends and boyfriends. There’s more work and expectations with one than the other.

“How’s that gorgeous boyfriend of yours?

” Lianna and I head down the hallway toward the library, which is already crammed.

Most of the first and second years bolted out of our exam only to disperse to the library and coffee shops to study for the next.

Thank all the law school gods, this next one is the last. I feel like my eyeballs are about to fall out of my head.

“He’s good. He’s been sending me updates from the road.” I pull up a video he sent me last night, of him onstage somewhere in Kansas. His sweaty hair falls around his shoulders and he’s leaning into a crowd of mostly women. My throat tightens.

K is gorgeous. Ash blond and muscular. Though everyone else in the band has tattoos, K says his skin is a temple and he doesn’t want graffiti.

I’m strictly sworn to secrecy that he doesn’t get tattoos because he keloids, but even then he won’t get one because he has a deathly fear of needles.

Lianna quirks a perfectly threaded eyebrow upward, her dark brown gaze inscrutable. “Looks like he’s loving it.”

“I know.” I bristle, but it’s silly to be jealous. K has always had women hanging over him, but at the end of the day, he always says I come home to you, baby girl .

Not literally. We don’t live together, despite me dropping hints—fine, begging— last year when my landlord wanted to raise my rent an unfeasible amount. In the end, Bo offered me the studio ADU attached to his bungalow. What a godsend. It’s ridiculously cheap, too.

“When are you flying out?” She walks through the door I hold open for her.

“Tonight. So weird they have red eye flights, but I’ll get into Nashville bright and early tomorrow morning.

I’m going to surprise K in his hotel.” Butterflies churn in my stomach.

K does not love surprises. I tried once before, to surprise him when he played a casino outside Palm Springs.

He freaked out and practically ran me out of the hotel.

“Ooh, love that. Did you buy something cute?” She shimmies her shoulders as we walk into the library and try to find two open spots.

“I got something,” I say shyly. This is not something I’m proud of, but I’ve not been liking my body lately.

Over the past year of law school, the stress and the late nights have led to me gaining almost thirty pounds.

I’m learning to appreciate my new body, but I’m not used to dressing myself.

I watched about ten YouTube videos before I went shopping and chose a sundress and this pretty, lacy negligee.

It was a little too expensive, but it’s burgundy, and it makes my blond hair pop.

The sundress is pretty, too. It flares over my hips and makes my cleavage look amazing.

“You’re going to look gorgeous.” Lianna bumps my hip with hers, then stops at a study carrel where two underclassmen are playing paper football.

“Excuse me,” I say, but it’s like I’m whispering into a waterfall.

“Move,” she says sharply to them.

And move they do.

I’m exhausted when I finally get into my rental car in Nashville.

I had to wait two hours for the guy I’m renting the car from, despite me telling him my flight got in at two in the morning.

It’s fine. I get people don’t want to work during the wee hours of the morning.

I tried curling up for a little rest on one of the chairs, but it didn’t help.

I always have trouble sleeping outside my own bed.

The rental car is definitely the oddest one I’ve ever seen.

If I had more money, I would have gone with an actual agency, but this was supposed to be cheap and easy and reliable.

Sort of like VRBO, but with cars. I’m a little dubious the ignition will even work, but it does.

It’s fine. It only has to work for a few days, and that whole time I’ll be following the bus, so there will be help if I get into trouble.

It’s still early enough in the morning that traffic hasn’t built up yet, and the hotel where the band is staying is close to the outskirts of Nashville. Even with my sense of direction, it doesn’t take me too long to find it.

I park in the free lot and take out my phone, my fingers hovering over the keyboard. I should text K. I know it.

But I LOVE surprises. I’ve always had this dream of missing someone and then having them show up unexpectedly with flowers or chocolates or something.

I stow my phone and grab my suitcase. Screw it. I’m going to surprise him.

When you walk through a lobby looking like a hot mess at six am, no one bats an eye. My heart pounds as I pretend I know what I’m doing.

A gorgeous lightly tanned man in a black sleeveless workout top and sweatpants hanging low over his trim hips steps out of the coffee shop in front of me. It must be the jet lag or the weird airport burrito I ate two hours ago, but my stomach does a low swoop.

Then he turns, sipping his coffee, and my whole body lights up when I see his profile. “Bo!”

He whirls fast enough that a few small drops of his drink spurt out the top of the plastic lid. “Lil?” In an instant, his arms are around me, and the jet lag fades away. “It’s so good to see you. K didn’t tell us when your flight was coming in.”

“Oh.” I giggle but it does nothing to decrease the discomfort in my stomach. “He forgot to send me a ticket. It’s not a big deal. I thought a surprise would be fun.”

Bo’s blue eyes widen momentarily. “Right. Well, you love surprises. That’s perfect.” He holds me another moment, and I just want it to last.

But he steps away. Of course he does. He’s my friend, and friendship hugs are different from boyfriend ones.

I wrap my arms around myself, suddenly cold and well aware of the numerous interested stares Bo’s getting from men and women in the lobby. He seems completely immune, but I feel their scrutiny. It’s the same when I’m with K. What is he doing with her?

Bo’s mouth curves and he taps my chin. “What’s up, Lily? Where’d you go?”

“Nowhere.” I set my gaze on the elevator. “Which floor is K on?”

A shadow passes over Bo’s features, but he covers it by drinking his coffee. “We’re all on fourteen. Dan’s idea of a joke. Come on. I’ll ride with you.”

He takes the handle of my suitcase without me having to ask, and I roll my aching shoulder gratefully. All that hunching over textbooks and stress over exams has only made me feel like my grandmother. Maxim’s really into yoga. Maybe he can give me some pointers.

“You guys are looking great.” I follow him into the waiting elevator and he hits the button for the fourteenth floor.

I try not to think of the fact that since most hotels don’t have a thirteenth floor, fourteen is technically thirteen.

It’s a good thing I’m not superstitious.

Really. I rub the goosebumps on my arms, wishing I’d brought a sweater.

“I saw the livestream of the last couple concerts. You’re amazing. ”

Bo really is a fantastic drummer. Not that I would ever tell K this, but I find it difficult to look away from Bo when he’s playing. The drumsticks become more than tools; they’re extensions of him. He’s so beautiful, it’s impossible to look anywhere else.

“Thanks.” His smile is crooked, and he bumps my hip with his. There’s that little frisson of pleasure that always flows through me when we touch. “Wait until you see us perform live.”

“I can’t wait.”

“Maybe one day, you’ll join us up there.” The elevator doors ping open. “Don’t think for a second that I forgot how amazing you are when you sing.”

My cheeks flush as we walk together down the hall. “I can’t believe you remember that.” Like me singing will ever happen. K is right. I’m a backstage girlie, not front material. Besides. I’m going to be a lawyer.

“I can’t forget it.” Bo shakes his head and tosses his empty coffee cup into a trash can. “You have a gorgeous voice. No reason to hide it.”

Now my entire body heats. “I don’t have time to sing. I have law school. And K. I’m lucky to have him.”

His jaw clenches. “Right.” He stops before a door, key card in hand. “This is me. K is two down. See you on the tour bus?”

“Okay.” I linger, and he does, too, the pair of us staring awkwardly at the carpet. Leaving Bo always feels like this, like there’s a thread running from me to him and if I take one step too far backward, it will snap and send me into a free fall.

He raises a hand toward me then enters his room.

I swallow, walk the few more steps to K’s door, and knock.

“Hold on,” I hear K say through the door.

My heart pounds in my ears. He pulls open the door, and he’s dressed only in a towel slung low around his waist, his chiseled chest and abs—that he works on obsessively—on full display.

I’m lucky he wants to be with me , I remind myself.

His face freezes when he sees me, then it’s the old K, the one I fell for.

“Lily! What a surprise.” His voice cracks on the last word, and he still stands in the door frame, arms bracketing both sides.

“Hey!” I point to my suitcase because his posture makes it impossible to wrap my arms around him.

“I’m here. I’m so happy to see you.” Am I?

This whole thing feels super awkward all of a sudden.

Like in the moment of a horror movie where the girl’s about to go down into the dark basement, and all you want to do is yell, Don’t go in the fucking basement.

But this isn’t an ax murderer’s basement. It’s my boyfriend’s hotel room. I have a right to be here.

He runs one hand through his hair, and little drops of water from his shower fall over me. I’ve always liked the scent of K’s shampoo and body wash but something about it today is off. Almost acrid.

“Can I come in?” I jut my hip to the side, hoping I look somewhat sexy. Lianna does this all the time and men fawn over her. “I missed you.”

His eyes widen. “Right. Um…”

My posture stiffens, but not at his hesitation. It’s the sight of a thin red-haired woman with a full snake tattooed down her left side coming out of his bathroom. I can see every detail of the snake because she is completely naked.

The realization hits me like a tsunami.

My whole body contorts with rage. Without thinking, I swing my purse down off my shoulder and hit K, square in his stupid, over-exercised chest. “You lying, fucking cheater! ”

Then I turn and run.