Page 59 of Long Hard Road

“You’ve had sex with 2,000 women?” I asked with a loud gasp.

“2,000 books, idiot.” She giggled as she slapped my arm.

“That is a shit ton of books, Madison.” I would be building her a lot of bookcases to accommodate that many books.

“I like to read.” She crossed her arms. “Your turn, Sullivan. How many women?”

I hesitated. It wasn’t that I was embarrassed by my number of sexual partners, I just didn’t want to make Madison uncomfortable. “I haven’t been keeping a tally.”

“A rough estimate is sufficient.”

“Twenty.” I glanced at her. “Two girls in high school. A half-dozen in college. About ten or so since then.”

“Twenty.” Her eyebrows knit together. “Is that a lot?”

I laughed awkwardly. “I don’t know. I think that’s up to you to decide.”

“I mean, is that above average for a guy your age? I obviously am not a good assessor of this kind of thing given my number of zero.”

“It’s all relative, Madison. If I had met the right girl in high school, my number might only be one. But I’ve been single for most of my life. I’ve only been in one relationship that lasted longer than a few weeks.”

“Tell me about her.”

Shit. I never should’ve hinted at anything to do with Fiona. “I’d prefer not to open that wound,” I said, hands tightening on the steering wheel.

Our playful banter ended abruptly. Madison sensed that I was shutting down and she pulled back as well. With neither of us eager to break the silence, I switched on the radio. Madison sat up straighter in her seat and I fought back a smile. I knew from Emma’s tutelage that this was one of Madison’s most famous songs. Also because of my niece, I happened to know most of the words.

When I started singing along with the radio, Madison whirled. “Oh my god, don’t. This is so embarrassing.”

“Embarrassing? It’s a great song.” I turned it up louder and kept singing. “Come on, babe. I know that you know the words.”

“I hate you,” she mumbled before losing her battle against a smile. Very faintly, I heard her beautiful voice join mine.

It quickly became clear that I couldn’t hold a candle to her natural talent, but that didn’t stop me from singing all the way to the end. When I messed up a few words in the chorus, Madison giggled and started replacing the real words with my mistakes. I stopped at a red light and trailed off at the end of the song, letting her hit the high note all by herself.

When she caught me staring at her, a stupid, smitten smile on my face, she blushed. “What?”

“It’s easy to forget when I’m with you that you aren’t a civilian like the rest of us. You really are a superstar, Madison.” I had a hard time reconciling that the woman sitting in my truck was also the woman who recorded award-winning albums and played them on sold-out concert tours. “What the hell are you doing with a guy like me?”

“I am just a regular person, Nate. I want the same things as everyone else. Health, happiness, friends, and family. The only thing special about me is that a bunch of people happen to know who I am.”

“Madison, that’s the least special thing about you.” I hated that her perception of herself was so poor. “Are you sure that you don’t mind if we stop by Harper’s store?”

“Of course not.” She was back to being quiet again, lost in her thoughts.

Harper had asked me to make a chalkboard sign with a wooden frame that she could put outside The Final Chapter to decorate and announce sales. It hadn’t taken me long to throw it together, but I kept forgetting to give it to her. Since we would be driving down Main Street, it was the perfect time to drop it off.

Harper was busy helping a customer and Madison disappeared into the stacks on a search for even more books. I leaned the sign against the register and followed Madison.

“2,000 books isn’t enough?” I teased.

“There’s no such thing as enough books.” She handed me an especially large volume. “Hold that, please.”

“A biography of Winston Churchill?” That was unexpected. “If you want a really good book about him, you should check out the ones written by Manchester.”

Her hand froze on the spine of another large book. “Are you a reader?”

“Not as obsessively as you, but yes. I enjoy reading.”