Mockingbird: a Songbird Sequel

Twenty: Colt

Checkout was noon the next day and we took full advantage of that time, lazing in bed until the last possible second, then getting dressed and making a break for the truck as if we'd done something wrong. We'd done a lot of "wrong" things that weekend. I definitely didn't envy whoever was in charge of changing those sheets, laden with an infinite amount of invisible sins. Lennie was perky on the drive home, windows down, forcing me to listen to her meticulously groomed nineties' country playlist. I, of course, pretended to hate every second of it, even though I didn't. I could get down to some George Strait or Randy Travis, hell, I grew up on the stuff as much as she did. I just enjoyed the way her nose scrunched up and her mischievous grin when I gave her a little kickback.

We talked a bit more about me going back to Nashville on the drive. Truth be told, there was a part of me that wanted to do it. Maybe not so much for myself, I'd be fine leading a cover-band version of Whiskey River for the rest of my life, but for the boys. They'd all worked so hard on this album, and Leon was the only one aside from me who'd done something outside of our little home-based shows. Carter and Travis deserved to show off what they could do. Leon deserved for people to see his talent, both in production and onstage. Me? Give or take. I didn't really care. But I knew that the guys were serious about not going to Tennessee if I wasn't with them. And the last thing I wanted to do was hold them back. So the decision was officially made: I was going.

We got home around three and Lennie almost instantaneously passed out for a nap. I was pretty wrecked myself, but I wanted to check in on the bar. I texted the guys to meet me there later that evening so I could give them the news in person, and after doing the chores with Beau, I headed into town.

The guys rolled in around seven, with Eden in tow for some god unknown reason. She'd probably been hanging out with Carter pretending she was interested in him when in reality, she wasn't. I'd tried to tell Carter to chill out, let her be, but... the man was an idiot when it came to this pint-size sprite of a woman. He'd gotten so wrapped up in her, I swear he'd drop to one knee and propose by the time the album was over. But... you couldn't tell a fool in love anything. I mean, if anyone had tried to tell me anything negative about Len, I would've sooner beat the tar out of them than believe it, so... in a sense I got it. Except for the fact Lennie was a fool for me too. I could already see the mess brewing between Carter and Eden. Maybe that was part of the reason I needed to be with them in Nashville: for the impending doom.

They ordered a couple pitchers and took the biggest table near the back of the bar. I sank into an open chair on the end after delivering them and glanced around the table. Every single one of my friends had this... hopeful gleam in their eyes. Eden looked quietly confident, like she knew what I was going to say.

"So... Len and I talked about things this weekend..." I paused, half expecting Carter to crack a joke about us divorcing and him having his shot now. He didn't. Eden really had him in full on tunnel vision. "I know... how much this means to you guys and... I don't want to be what holds you back..."

"Colt..." Leon began.

I held up a finger. "I'm in."

The three men erupted into raucous cheers, Carter jumping up so forcefully he damn near took out the entire table. He circled around and wrapped his arms tightly around my shoulders. "You won't regret this, man," he stated, squeezing me.

"I know. I ain't doing it for myself." I flashed him a bit of a smirk before my eyes met Eden's across the table. I didn't like the spark in them. I didn't like the smirk on her face. I didn't like the way she made me feel like I was some sort of prize she had a remote chance in winning.

"I'm getting shots!" Carter exclaimed, delivering one more slap to my shoulder before he stood. "What do we want?"

"Nothing. I'm working," I stated.