Morgan Wallen as himself

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Maggie groans as she stirs awake, her back aching. She lifts her head and looks around, her brows furrowing when she sees a Tennessee Vols t-shirt clad chest steadily rising and falling below her. "What the fuck?" She thinks, rubbing her eyes as she leans up on her elbows only for her to be pulled back down against the man she's tangled up with. The guy's hand slides down her back to her ass, holding her tighter with her face smushed against his chest. She groans again, trying to pry the man's arms from around her. He hums in response, subconsciously rubbing her back which ultimately lulls her back to sleep.

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The door to the lounge opens slowly, Michael peeks in and laughs to himself when he sees the sleeping couple on the floor. "Rise and shine, love turds!" He says, kicking the bottom of their shoes. Maggie stretches, a moan coming from her throat as she rubs her eyes.

She jumps when she sees who's she's curled up with. "Ah!"

"What- why the hell are you on the floor?" Morgan mumbles, still mostly asleep as he runs his hand through his hair. "What's going on? What time is it?"

"It's a quarter past nine." Michael says, picking up Maggie's notebook. "This Bar, huh?"

"Dude! I thought you said you set an alarm! We wasted eight hours!"

"Totally worth it, Mrs. Stell." He mutters sarcastically, still laying on his back with his knees bent and his eyes shut. "Can we be done writing?"

"Y'all gotta change the scenery so, you'll be working at one of y'all's place until you have four more songs written."

"What!? Chris just said a couple- five!?" Mags whines, actually pouting.

"Grow the fuck up, Maggie May." Morgan grunts as he sits up, his head resting against the arm on top of his knees. "It's just four more. You have like three hundred already written anyways."

She gives him a dirty look before turning back to Michael. "W-when do these need to be done?"

"Friday."

"Three days!?" She squeaks. "No-no, we need like two weeks to get five songs done- perfected to be-"

"It's way too early to be listenin' to you complain, baby." Morgan stands. "We can just do this at my place."

"Why not my place?" She scowls, crossing her arms.

"Because I said it first."

"Okay, I guess I can deal with you for a couple hours outta my day. No big deal-"

"Uh-uh." Michael says, shaking his head. "Chris said that y'all gotta spend the next three days together, like live together to get this shit done."

"I-I can't deal with that-" She gestures to the brunette.

"Oh, way to make me feel so good, Maggie May. I don't want to do this either-"

"Is there gonna be a problem with this? If so, y'all can just leave. There's the fuckin door. By all means, I'm not holding y'all back." Christian says from out of nowhere, his arms crossed over his chest. "Is there gonna be a problem?"

"Absolutely-" Maggie pinches the back of Morgan's arm hard. "Not. Nope, no problem, sir."

"That's what I thought. Now, get on outta here and write five more songs."

"Five total or five more songs?" Maggie asks, slinging her purse over her shoulder. "Because Michael said-"

"Well, with all the bellyachin' I heard, I added one more. Anymore complaining y'all do, I'm bumpin the number up to ten."

"Six it is." She gives him an obviously fake smile. "I'll just head on home to get some things for the rest of the week and I'll be on my way over, Morgan."

"You got it, baby." He responds, matching her fake facade. "See you in a bit."

Once Christian leaves the trio, Maggie immediately turns to Michael, grabbing his arm. "You gotta come with me. I- I don't think I can handle another seventy two hours with him."

"I can visit y'all but I'm not staying the whole time." He chuckles, pushing her hair out of her face. Morgan pushes past them and heads out to his truck. "What's wrong with y'all?"

"Just some shit from our past." She sighs, shaking her head. "Professional, I just gotta be professional, that's all."

"That's right, baby. You got this." He gives her a hug and a kiss on the top of the head before she heads out to her car to pack some things up to stay at Morgan's house for the rest of the week.

=

"You sure you gotta do this, Mags?" Matt asks as he leans forward against her kitchen counter as she folds her clothes up on the living room couch. "I mean, it seems kinda silly."

"It is but it's for work and I gotta." She sighs, tucking a tank top into a big plastic bin. "Six songs by Friday and I gotta do it with him."

"Even after everything that happened between y'all?" Matt knows what happened in high school and he's nervous about them spending forced time together. Who knows what'll happen? "I'm sure I can hang with y'all until Friday."

"Oh no, you gotta go to Little Rock this week." She gives him a look as she sets her bathroom bag into the bin. "I can handle this."

Matt steps towards her, his hand rubbing across her shoulders. "You call me if he's givin' you any trouble, okay baby?"

"Okay." She smiles as he slides his hands against the sides of her face, leaning down to kiss her. "How much longer until you move to Nashville?"

"Just a month or two then I'm all yours." He says as he digs around in the fridge. "When do you gotta leave?"

"Few minutes." Mags sighs, popping the lid on the box. "Walk me to my car?" He picks up her big ass tub and carries it down the steps to the driveway, sliding it into the back seat. "Alrighty, call me when you get to Arkansas, okay?"

"You got it, baby." He winks, opening her car door for her. "Love you, drive safe." He leans in and gives her a soft kiss.

"Love you too." She blushes as she backs down the driveway then speeds off to Morgan's place.

=

Maggie sighs as she presses her knuckle against the doorbell, her purse over her shoulder and her storage bin on the porch next to her. There's no answer so she boldly decides to let herself into Morgan's house. "Hello?" She calls, setting her purse on top of the box by the door. "Hello?"

"Ah!" Morgan shouts, gripping the towel that nearly slips from around his hips with dripping wet hair sticking to his face. "What the hell are you doin' here!?"

"Your door was open!" She shrieks back, covering her eyes with her hands. He scoffs, heading back to his bedroom to get changed.

Morgan returns in a low riding pair of Volunteers sweats. "So." He says awkwardly, obviously not used to having a female guest over that he isn't going to bang. "You, uh,"

"Where am I sleepin'?"

"You can stay in my room." He says, putting a hand on his hip. "Is that all your stuff?"

"I got my keyboard in my car, figured you'd have guitars." She bends over, grabbing her keys from her purse. "So, I'll uh, be right back."

Once she's outside, he grabs a pizza from the freezer and throws it in his oven, scratching the back of his head. His ex-girlfriend is living with him for the week- his engaged ex-girlfriend. Maggie returns and carefully slides her keyboard onto the kitchen counter then kicks her sneakers off. "How's Mark feel 'bout this?"

"Mark? Who's Mark?"

"Your fiancé."

"Matt is headed back home so he don't think much 'bout it." She shrugs, sitting on the couch. "Listen, I'm not too excited about this so let's just get 'em songs done as soon as possible, okay? He said six songs by Friday. We finish before then, I get to go home sooner."

"You make it sound like you're forced to be here, Gracie." He says as he sits on the opposite side of the black leather couch, lounging comfortably with a beer in his hand. "Just relax; get settled in. Then, in a couple hours we can get started, okay? I've got some lunch in the oven and I have Netflix so here," he tosses her the remote. "Make yourself at home, baby."

He's right.

She does need to relax.

Maggie nods and leans back, letting herself melt against the comfortable cushions. She picks Seinfeld and rests her head back, starting to slowly get drowsy the further into the episode they get. By the end credits, she's asleep. Morgan smiles to himself as he tosses a blanket over her before taking their dirtied dishes to the sink. He glances over his bare shoulder at her, making sure she's still asleep then sneaks his way to her bag for her notebook. He snags it, heading back to the second bedroom that he's turned into his music room to try to get something started.

After a couple hours, Maggie finally wakes up. She rubs her eyes as she follows the sound of a guitar to a cracked open door. "Hey sleepin' beauty." Morgan says, spinning his capo around his finger. "How was your nap?"

"What're you working on?" She asks, leaning over his shoulder. "Yeah I bet your daddy's so proud of how his little girl turned out. Thinks she dodged a bullet of a good ol' boy like me." She subconsciously rubs his back like she did in high school when they were dating. She doesn't even notice that she's doing it. "This song is kinda makin nostalgic." She whispers, leaning against the wall. "Makes me kinda miss high school and the hopes and dreams we had for our future." She laughs shortly. "But now look at us; living out our dreams."

"So, uh, we could write love songs, those are easy." He suggests, turning in his chair. "Got a lot of ideas for those."

"I don't think I can write love songs right now." She mumbles, fiddling with the capo. "To write love songs, you really gotta feel it and I ain't feelin' it."

"Okay, you have this one started and it's kind of an 'anti' love song. I added some more to it." He says, handing her a half finished song. "I liked what you got so far."

"Shoulda said 'watch out and boy you're gonna wind up hurt' and that label on that whiskey on that shelf shoulda said 'don't buy no shots for no one else' Shoulda come with a warning..."

"Ooh..." He adds, that goofy smile on his face. "And there's also that bridge I wrote and I really like the chord progression." She hands him the paper back. "Don't fire it up and hit the headlights. Turn on around at the next red light. I wish somebody would've gave me some damn signs. Yeah, I wish that night... woulda come with a warning-"

"Ooh.." Maggie sings quietly, matching his smile. "I got chills, Morgan." She leans against his desk, crossing her arms as she looks over some of his notes. "Love songs have always come easy to you. I mean, you are a romantic at heart." She starts pacing, humming along to a tune in her head while she reads something he scribbled. He watches her, feeling something bubble in his chest as she taps her barefoot against the hardwood floor- something he hasn't felt in years. "Get your keys." She suddenly says. "C'mon."

Morgan pulls a t-shirt on along with his sneakers and a ball cap to cover his messy hair. "Why?"

"Since I haven't been able to get laid, we're going for a ride." She responds from the bathroom, changing her hoodie for a tank top; it's summer here in Nashville.

Morgan blushes at his own thoughts. "I could help you out with that problem." But he just shakes it off as he heads to the front door. She joins him shortly and follows him to his truck, letting herself in to the passenger seat. She kicks her shoes off and crosses her legs, rolling the window down as he starts driving.

Soon, Mags' wild curls are whipping around her head. "This was a great idea." She smiles, sticking her arms out the window. "Maybe it's the quarter moon, maybe it's the quart of wine that we haven't even touched yet, baby don't need it..."

"I'm not good at not kissin' again when you're leanin' it on in a little closer. I'm not good at not getting sidetracked when your tank top strap's slippin' off your shoulder..."

Maggie laughs, grabbing her phone to quickly type in what they just come up with before it's gone from her head. "That's good. Go back to your place so we can finish it." He gives her a look. "Please."

"Absolutely, baby." He winks, making a u-turn in the middle of the street before heading home.

Mags jumps out of the cab of the truck and rushes to the door. "Morgan, it's locked!"

"Shit. I left my keys inside."

"Seriously?" She gives him a mothering look.

"Don't get your panties in a twist, darlin." He says, using the key on his key ring to unlock the door.

Once she crosses the threshold, she immediately hightails it to his music room, sitting at his desk with his guitar on her lap. "Okay, chorus is done." She mutters, drawing a box around the words she's written down. While she's diddling with the song, Morgan's laying on the couch in the living room with his eyes closed and his arm covering his face. "Hey, what do- " She stops in her tracks at the sight before she gets a sudden burst of confidence and jumps on him, straddling his hips.

"Wh-" He leans up on his elbows. "What?"

"You're supposed to be helping me." That feeling in his chest returns as he looks her over: the way her shorts are tight around her thighs and hips from how she's sitting, the way her tank top is bunched up around her belt, showing some of her tan skin, the way some of her curls have fallen into her eyes and she keeps trying to blow them out of her face. He just reaches over and pushes them back for her.

"Can't tell you no, can't say goodbye, can't hold a little bit back even if I tired, 'cause when I look in your eyes..." He says, looking over her figure again, his body burning. "Then kick it back into the chorus." He lays back, tucking his arm behind his head, his other hand rests comfortably on his torso. His eyes dart to her engagement ring. He always thought that he'd be the one she'd marry; ever since they first met he thought that they'd end up getting married. "I need a beer." He swiftly wraps his arm around her waist, laying her back and off of him before heading to the kitchen to get something to drink. She laughs loudly. "You want anything?"

"Yeah, whatever you got'll work." He chuckles to himself as he grabs two Twisted Teas and returns to the couch. "Thanks." She pops the top and kicks her feet up on the coffee table. "So, nice place."

"Thanks." She looks over at him, taking in his appearance for the first time since they've reunited. He really hasn't changed much since high school besides ditching his long straight hair for a shorter cut that shows off his natural waves and he's letting his facial hair grow out more. She's always liked when he let it grow out. "Take a picture, it'll last longer." He says with a smirk in his voice.

Maggie awkwardly clears her throat, taking a long drink from the bottle in her hand. "What made you cut your hair?"

"Someone told me I look like a mom." She bursts out laughing, her eyes squeezing shut as she puts a hand to her belly. "It's not funny! I went through two years of high school lookin' like that." He says over her laughs. "C'mon now, Mags."

"But you look real cute now." She bites her lip to hold in her giggles. "With those pretty waves you try to hide." She reaches out and twists a strand between her fingers. "It's..." Her phone suddenly rings, startling her hand away from him. "Shit. Sorry." She stands and heads back to his bedroom for privacy. "Hey Matt."

"Hey baby. Just made it home. How's it going with the songwritin'?"

Maggie sits on the edge of Morgan's bed, looking around at his things. "Uh, fine. We finished one song and started our second." She can't help the smile on her face when she sees a very old picture of her and Morgan, peeking out from behind the TV on the dresser from when they were younger together. "Writers block sucks."

"I know baby." He sighs. "I usually take a cold shower or go into town and people watch."

"Really? And that works for you?"

"Without a doubt, every time. Sometimes I'll make up stories for the people I see."

"I'll give that a whirl then." She says, pacing around the room. "I'll talk to you in a bit. I'm gonna go try those ideas."

"Good luck. Love you."

"Love you too." She hangs up and pockets her phone. Maggie smiles again at the picture of the two of them, they're at a concert together- an Eagles cover band. This was the day he realized he was in love with her but all good things must come to an end. She sets the frame back on the dresser then heads to the kitchen for another Twisted Tea.

After her fourth one, Maggie's feeling pretty good. "Y'know what, I didn't even want to be engaged." She blurts out as she looks at her ring. "Maybe- I dunno." Morgan looks up at her from his spot on the couch with her notebook in his lap as she's standing, looking out his front window. "Tied down. That's what it's called. I ain't ready for a ring on my hand. Matt- He's goin between Arkansas and Nashville every other weekend and I'm- I'm tired of it. If I'm gonna be engaged to someone I want to live with him, right? I mean that makes sense. I can't do long distance." She turns and looks at her ex. "Right?"

"Yeah, sure." He shrugs, knowing this conversation will be fuzzy to her in the morning. "You shouldn't be with some who don't make you happy. And from the sounds of it, Matt don't make you happy."

"He doesn't." She admits. "I mean, he's a good person- a great, great person but we just don't vibe sexually or- or romantically but we have a solid friendship and I'm tired of feelin' like I'm engaged to a friend- not a boyfriend." She makes eye contact with him. "I don't feel what I felt with you, with him. And- and that's why I fucking suck at writing love songs now, I'm not in love."

Wow.

Maggie sets her drink down on the counter, tears in her eyes. "I mean, it's not like we have anything set in stone for the- the wedding or a date or anything." She hiccups. "Fuck, Morgan!"

"Hey." He stands and wraps his arms around her, holding her close against his bare chest and rubs her back. "Take a deep breath."

She whimpers and drops her head against his shoulder. "With all this time we're spending apart from each other..."

"What?" Her eyes flutter up to his then to his lips. She leans up and kisses him, the idea of being someone's fiancé totally out of her head as she pushes him back against the counter. He pulls away, holding her hands in his bigger ones. "Hey." He whispers, brushing some tears away with his thumbs. "In order to write love songs, you gotta feel love, right?"

She's silent.

Maggie pulls away and heads to Morgan's bedroom, kicking the door shut behind her. He sighs heavily, pushing his hands through his hair. Meanwhile, Maggie's brain is going a million miles an hour as she writes down some lyrics, hopefully legibly with her state of mind.