Wild Eyes by Elsie Silver

Author:Elsie Silver [Silver, Elsie]
Language: eng
Format: epub, pdf
Publisher: Elsie Silver Literary Inc.
Published: 2024-09-03T00:00:00+00:00

“There’s a song about this, you know.” I trail my fingertips in the water. It feels like they’re skating over the cold surface. It’s a still night, the only ripples coming from the oars that slice through the water with a reassuring regularity.

Steady and even.

Just like the man handling them.

“Fancy face, we aren’t fishing.” His voice is hushed. Even though no one is around, we’re almost whispering.

I tip my head back and forth, considering. “We could be.”

The swish of his rowing fills the peaceful atmosphere. “Do you even know how to fish?”

I shrug and pull my hand from the water. “No, but you could teach me.”

“You gonna do a lot of fishing when you head back to Los Angeles? Or Nashville? Where is your home base anyway?”

Home. Neither of those places feel much like home. “I have houses in both.”

A disbelieving huff passes through his lips. The notion of owning properties in two cities must seem absurd to him. Excessive.

And truthfully, after only a week spent in Rose Hill, it seems that way to me too. I’ve just never known any different.

“Which one do you like better?”

Images of the two lavish homes flash in my mind. One all sleek, modern glass facing the Pacific. The other, a country estate. Both have so many bedrooms and bathrooms that I opt to leave several doors closed.

A flash of the bunkhouse follows. West’s cozy, white farmhouse with its red tin roof. Children’s toys scattered across the lawn.

That’s the house that makes my heart beat faster.

“I’m not especially attached to either. I spend a lot of time on the road.”

“Do you like being on the road?”

I turn my head to peek around us. The outdoor lights of the lakefront homes glow. We aren’t that far from the shore, yet it’s so peaceful. So quiet.

“No. I hate it.”

His arms still, and he studies me as we float on the dark water. His attention is too heavy, so I tip my head back and pretend to be especially interested in the milky blanket of stars overhead.

I breathe in.

I breathe out.

I try to escape that creeping sense of dread that fills me anytime I let myself think about going back on the road. Performing. Doing interviews. I think I liked it once. I know I loved to sing. When it wasn’t all about money and fame and the next album. It got old fast. And now I’m burned out.

“What are you most afraid of?” I ask.

“Me?”

My chin drops only so I can give him a droll look. “No, the fish we should be catching.”

That gets me an eye roll, but I can tell he’s pondering my question.

“My kids dying.”

“That’s an obvious one. I think any parent fears that happening. Even my shitty ones.”

I get a growl for that reference, and he throws the question back at me. “What are you afraid of?”

I figure if he’s going to skirt the question, I will too. “People finding out my tits are fake.”

He coughs, thumping a fist on his chest to clear his airway.

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.