Page 75 of Christmas Trees & Weak Knees

“I’m sure we can figure something out. Although…” He studies me from beneath his long, dark bangs with thoughtful eyes. “It’s not a bad idea.” He says it like he thinks we should just show up to the Live, from Nashville! New Year’s Eve Ball and perform a duet.

Onstage.

In front of other people.

Together.

I shake my head in disbelief. “You can’t be serious?”

Kash knows how terrible my stage fright is. He knows how badly I bombed in May. He knows better than to ask this of me.

He shrugs. “I think we should at least consider it.”

What is there to consider? How many different ways I could possibly screw it up? I mean, this is such a bonkers idea, I don’t even know where to start.

“I—I can’t do it.”

“I know you can, Paisley. You sang at the Thanksgiving hoedown,” he says.

“That’s completely different. That was in front of close friends and family. And if you recall, I didn’t want to—Halley forced me,” I say, spitting her name out like a four-letter word.

“You sang at Carols by Candlelight,” he says.

“It was a double-dog dare. Half the time I was lip-synching.”

Kash takes my hands in his. “Paisley, I have faith in you. I know you can do it.”

Maybe I can. Maybe I can’t. But I sure as hell don’t want to.

I bite my bottom lip as the black hole in my stomach swirls into a fierce tornado of angst.

“I’ll be right there with you,” he says.

I tug my hands away. How can I trust that when it doesn’t feel like he’s here with me right now? He knows how much I hate singing in public. Why won’t he just listen to me? Why does Kash want this so badly?

“Why do you even want me to sing with you?” I ask.

“Why wouldn’t I?” Kash’s brow wrinkles like he’s surprised by the question. “We sounded really good together on the recording. The song works better as a duet.”

“That was just you and me in the studio. You know I’m a mess onstage.”

“Actually, I don’t know. Every time I’ve heard you sing, you’ve been great.”

“Yeah, right,” I huff.

“Paisley, one bad set isn’t the end of the world. It’s not even the end of a career. It happens. I’ve had plenty of bad sets with Six String Justice, and we still booked gigs after.”

Tears spring to my eyes. How nice for him, that he doesn’t know how it feels to be ridiculed and jeered at. How awful it is to discover another Seth Carpenter video making the rounds on social media. How it feels to have all your hopes and dreams teetering on the edge of disaster, ready to be completely crushed with one more misstep.

“You were there,” I say, spitting out the words like an accusation.

“I wasn’t watching.”

“I’m sure you’ve seen the videos.”

“No. I haven’t.” Kash shakes his head like he’s not sure what to do. “I didn’t pay you any attention back in May, and I wasn’t searching for videos of you. My focus was on other things. Do I wish things had gone differently for you? Yes. Do I wish I remembered meeting you backstage that day? Hell yes.” Kash sighs. “When I finally found out about what happened, we’d already spent time together. It didn’t seem right to watch the video. Why would I want to?”

“Why wouldn’t you?”