"Hey, how are ya?" Liz asks the intern behind the front desk at Big Loud, a coffee cup carrier in one hand and a little box of donuts in the other.

"Real good, ma'am. How're you doin'?" He responds, looking up from the notebook in front of him.

"I'm doin' good." She smiles back. "Listen, I'm lookin' for Morgan Wallen."

"Let me page 'em-" The kid picks up the black phone and dials a number. His voice echos throughout the building. "Morgan Wallen, uh, please come up to reception. Morgan Wallen."

Liz silently thanks him before sitting on a nearby chair. In a couple minutes, Morgan is making his way down the hallway.

"Hey Lizzie!" He greets, giving her a huge friendly hug.

"." She corrects him.

He chuckles. "C'mon, he's recordin' right now. You can get some 'behind the scenes' action." He looks at the carrier and box. "Whatcha got there?" He asks as he slings her purse over his shoulder.

"I brought y'all boys some coffee and donuts." She tells him, walking with him. She glances at the framed records lining the walls and her heart picks up. "Man, I feel so under qualified to even be walkin' in these damn halls." She laughs, stopping when he does.

Morgan swings the door open and quietly motions her to sit on the brown leather couch. "He's in the booth." He whispers, snagging a coffee from the cardboard carrier and a donut from the box.

Liz gets comfortable on the spacious, definitely expensive, leather couch, her own paper coffee cup in her hand as she listens to Michael sing in that unique voice of his. She's heard him since once before. They got tipsy together on a FaceTime call and he sang a little bit of a Pearl Jam song to her, totally mixing up the words but definitely making an even stronger impression on her.

"How's that feel, man?" The extremely familiar guy at the soundboard asks into the mic, looking up at him through the glass window.

"Real good, Cliff." He nods back, clearing his throat. "Run through the chorus again."

Cliff presses a button and the track rewinds.

Morgan's standing by the soundboard, another donut in his hand as he rests the coffee cup against his lips. He's bobbing his head in time with the beat, mouthing along to some words and Liz is amused.

She's never been in this type of environment before but she's loving it. She loves being surrounded by creative people. Not like her ex boyfriend, Hank, who was a four-to-six, six days a week, oil rig roughneck who'd rather be in a bar during his free time. He didn't really have much to offer except the fact that he's a hard working, good looking man with a nice dick that he knows how to use and that he can pick a fight with her like no one else can.

And the fact that she could beat his ass in a game of pool and darts like it was nobody's business.

The booth door opens and Michael steps out. "How'd that sound?"

"I think the chorus could use a little work." Liz comments from the couch, nonchalantly taking a sip of her coffee.

"The hell're you doin here? Is it Friday?" He can't help the smile that grows on his face. "C'mere." He wraps her in a hug, her face pressed against his chest. "Man, what a fuckin' surprise."

Liz returns the grin, sitting back down on the couch. He plops himself next to her, throwing his arm on the back of the couch behind her. "I brought y'all boys some snacks." Her eyes move to Morgan. "See you've already helped yourself."

"Thanks darlin'." He mumbles back with a mouthful of donut.

Liz chuckles and hands Michael his cup. "Surprise." He just laughs back, tickled to death that this girl is here with him once again. "What was that song you was singin'?"

"It's called Broke Boy."

"It's nice. Never heard anythin' like it before."

"That's what I'm strivin' for: originality."

"And you definitely got that." She crosses her legs after kicking her boots off, turning her body to face him. "You've got some big things comin' your way, Michael Hardy."

Morgan has his back turned to the two on the couch but he's still listening. She's so right for him that it hurts. He smiles into his cup knowing that they're going to work out.

"Y'all can be done for the day if the missus-"

"Oh please, Cliff. Call me Liz." She corrects him, sending him a warm smile.

"Y'all can be done for the day." He says awkwardly.

Michael stands and sets his guitar in the hard case, flipping the latches closed. "You comin'?"

"Sure. Where?" She stands as well. Liz reaches out for the trash on the table but Morgan bats her hands away. "Dude-"

"I got it. Just get your purse." He responds.

Michael has one hand holding the handle of his guitar case and the other grabbing her hand. Liz smiles and lets him lead her out the side door to the parking lot.

"See ya later, man!" Morgan shouts to the two as he heads to his truck.

"Bye!" Liz yells back, laughing softly as Michael waves. "My car is parked out front-"

"Just follow me back to my house." He can see the hesitation on her face and he gives her a calming smile. "I'm not Jeffrey Dahmer."

"You know there are other serial killers, right? Yeah, he's pretty notable but I mean, there's the guy who dressed like a clown and Ted Bundy, H. H. Holmes and- oh and the Golden State Killer, not to mention the ones who aren't actually serial killers-"

He cuts her off with his hands on her shoulders, his thumbs against the sides of her neck. "Just trust me."

"Fine. You gonna walk me to my car or does that gentleman only show up when you're drunk?" Hardy's lips pull at a smile.

He takes her hand again and walks her to the street. "That one yours?" He points at the big blue-gray Toyota parallel parked at a blinking meter.

"How'd you know?" She asks, looking up at him.

"Uh, lucky guess." He chuckles nervously.

Liz raises a brow. "Y'aint exactly helpin your 'I'm not a serial killer' claim." She says as she jaywalks across the street. "Seriously, what the hell, man?"

Michael looks down at his sneakers. "Morgan went through your Instagram page." She laughs, totally catching him off guard. "What?"

"I just wasn't expectin' that. Usually, boys I know don't give two shits 'bout social media." She says as she steps on the lift of her SUV. "C'mon, boy! Let's get goin'!"

Michael leans over and kisses her cheek before he turns and half-ass jogs back to the lot he's parked in. Soon, his souped up Ford is gliding its way down the busy streets of Nashville.

Liz is speechless, dumbfounded- gobsmacked at Michael's home. She wasn't expecting this borderline mansion in the smack dab middle of the woods several miles outside of the city.

He pulls off to the side of a covered spot, motioning her to park in what's usually his parking spot. She gives him a goofy look as she backs her SUV under the overhang.

Liz hops out of her lifted car then grabs her bag from the back hatch. "Gorgeous place you got, Michael Hardy." She says, her eyes still stuck on the beautiful wood plank house.

"Thanks." He says bashfully, grabbing his guitar from the bed of his truck before he fishes his keys out of his pocket.

He unlocks the deep green door and pushes it open. "You can drop your stuff there if you want. I can show you 'round after supper. How's that sound?"

"Sounds great." She winks, politely kicking her boots off by the door, looking over his living room. "Wow. This is like the size of my whole house."

"Oh, c'mon now." He says from the kitchen. "You hungry?"

"Sure." She finds her way to the kitchen and leans against the counter, watching him riffle through the fridge. "Still not helpin' your non-serial killer façade with your home bein' so far from the city and in the middle of the woods which, I'd like to point out, is where the killer lives in the movies."

He laughs. "Yeah, better sleep with one eye open, little lady." She giggles back, picking up a half open bag of chips from the back of the counter. "Help yourself. Make yourself at home."

She glances over her shoulder at him. "Might as well enjoy what's left of my life if you're gonna slaughter me in my sleep." She states then shovels a handful of partially stale chips into her mouth. "Whatcha makin'?"

"Just heatin' up some leftovers my dad brought by yesterday. Hope that's okay."

"Sure is." She puts the chips back then makes her way over to him while he's standing at the stove. She wraps her arms around his middle and sighs quietly.

"You alright?"

She hums back. She's missed this level of intimacy- she's been needing this since the first time they met a handful of months ago. Michael wriggles his way around to give her a proper hug. She visibly melts into him, her cheek pressed to his chest while he rubs her back.

Tears could swell in her eyes from how nice it feels to just be held like this again.

The timer goes off, pulling them apart. "Have a seat on the couch. I'll bring you a plate."

Liz nods and does as asked, kicking her feet up under her as she gets cozy on the black leather sectional. Michael comes around the corner and sets the plates down on the coffee table. "Drink?"

"I'll have what you're havin'. Keep it simple."

He kisses the top of her head then disappears back into the kitchen before returning again with two beers.

He turns on a random show and they sit in a comfortable silence, eating their dinner together.

Liz stole one of Michael's t-shirts. She's standing in the bathroom, brushing her teeth before bed. Michael was polite enough to offer her a guest bedroom but they both know that she isn't going to actually sleep there.

She rinses her mouth then flips the light off. She's stopped when she hears a guitar being strummed and she smiles. "You don't get no time off, huh?"

Michael shrugs as he sets her guitar on the stand. "Just get random chord progressions and I gotta get them out before I lose 'em." His chocolate brown eyes rake up and down her body. "Is that my shirt?"

"Maybe." She smiles back. "It's mine right now." Michael chuckles. "Well, goodnight. I'll see you in the mornin'."

"Night." He grins, kissing her cheek before she heads off to bed.

Several long minutes pass and Liz is still wide awake. She rolls on her side from her front to get to her feet. She pads her away across the hall and silently opens Michael's bedroom door. She sneaks her way under his arm and sheets, curling up with her back against his chest. She almost instantly falls asleep.

+++

Liz yawns herself awake. Her eyes open and she's confused at first when she sees light blue sheets instead of her white ones. She sits up and notices she's alone in the big bed. She gets to her feet and finds her way to the staircase, following the soft melodic echo of quiet strums on a guitar.

"Mornin'." Michael says from the couch, his acoustic in his arms. "How'd you sleep?"

"Your bed is real comfy." She mumbles back, sitting next to him.

"Yeah, you was takin up all the space." He teases, setting his guitar off to the side.

"No I wasn't."

"Yeah huh. I was hangin' off the side." She rolls her eyes as she leans against him. Michael drops his arm around her shoulder, rubbing her upper arm. "You talk in your sleep, too."

"No I don't." She laughs, her eyes starting to get heavy from the warmth radiating off his body and the soothing hand on her arm. She cuddles further against him- if that's even possible, as starts to drift back asleep.

She hasn't gotten this good of sleep in months and it's nice to finally get it again.