Page 124 of Forbidden Lyrics

“Yeah. Fucking epic, man!” He slaps Gibson on the shoulder, reaches for Gibson’s untouched drink, and shoots the liquid down his throat before stumbling off.

Gibson gives me another tight smile as our last admirer is replaced with another one.

And another.

And another.

After a solid fifteen minutes of ass-kissing, Gibbs is practically vibrating with frustration when Phoenix appears out of nowhere. “Dude. Where the hell have you been? I’ve been calling––”

“Fen has my phone,” Gibbs returns. “What’s up?”

“Fen’s dealer is here.”

The blood drains from Gibson’s face. “Marty’s here?”

“Yeah, man. I saw him walk in about ten minutes ago, but I couldn’t find you or Fen. I’ve been looking everywhere––”

“Where’s Stokes?”

“He’s looking too.”

“Shit.” Gibson shoves his hair away from his face, turning to me. “Stay here and keep your phone on you. I’ll be back in a few.”

He doesn’t wait for me to reply and almost bumps into a couple making out in the hallway before he takes the stairs two at a time to the second floor. My phone vibrates in my hand as soon as he’s out of sight, and I look down to find an onslaught of messages flooding my cell from Gibson’s number.

One after the other.

Text after text.

Screenshot after screenshot.

Confused, I unlock my phone and start reading.

Em: It’s Em. We need to talk.

Gibson: Apparently, I don’t know an Em.

Em: Don’t be an ass.

Gibson: Says the girl who faked her name, pretended to skip town, and wound up pregnant.

Em: Which is why I want to talk.

Gibson: Am I the father, Em?

Em: No.

Gibson: Is Milo?

Em: No.

Gibson: Then who the hell is it?

Em: It’s none of your business, Gibbs.

Me: Does Milo know you were fucking a third guy on the side? Because if I’m not the father, and he isn’t the father, then…

Em: It doesn’t matter.

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