VOLUME FOUR: WORTH THE BATTLE
Nashville traffic sucked a big one—especially when it kept Layne O'Connor from getting to the one person in the world who had the power to make him drive seventy miles without questioning why. His fingers beat a rhythm against the steering wheel in time with the rock station he listened to. Today, the music that normally calmed him down set his nerves on edge.
“Move your ass," he shouted as the person in front of him tapped their brakes. It was times like this he wished he could always drive his motorcycle. If he had been on the back of his bike right now, he could have maneuvered through this mess in ten minutes flat. Instead, he had been sitting in almost gridlock for over an hour. He'd also been flipped off more times than he cared to count, what he wou
