Page 13 of Forbidden Lyrics

“Yes.”

He nods. “Does she ever come into SeaBird?”

I shake my head. “Not really.”

“You’re chatty tonight,” he notes. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say he was teasing me, but it’s Gibson Hayes. The guy hates me.

When I stay quiet, he adds, “Last time you were at my place, I couldn’t get you to shut up.”

With a grimace, I drop my gaze down to my lap and toy with the strap on my black purse. “Sorry.”

“I’m kidding,” he returns. “Seriously. You okay?”

“Yeah.” I sigh and shrug one shoulder. “Just a long day, I guess.”

“You were late for work.”

Again, I peek over at him, surprised. “You noticed?”

“You don’t seem like someone who would lose their keys, either.”

My lips press into a thin line, but I don’t know what he wants me to say. I’m not someone who loses their keys. I’m too OCD for that. Too careful. Too much of an overthinker to let a tiny detail like where my keys are slip my mind. But today’s been rough, and I’m feeling the effects.

“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to,” he adds, merging onto the freeway while surprising me with his curiosity.

I glance over at him, then stare back out the windshield. I don’t know where to look. I don’t know how to act. I don’t know how to do anything. Not when he’s around. Not when my nerves are a frazzled mess like they are right now.

But maybe not being silent would be a good start.

“It’s fine,” I breathe out. “And you’re right. I’m not usually one to lose my keys, and I pride myself on being reliable. And punctual. But my sister needed help with her IV, which she decided to need at the last second, which made me late for work and flustered. And therefore, I locked my keys in the car. And spilled my tray all over a customer. And…yeah. You get the idea. Between it all, my life is a mess, but at least Ashton is pretty laid-back and didn’t yell at me. So, there’s that,” I point out, trying to see the bright side of a crappy day. Gibson would’ve been the bright side if it weren’t for the stupid girl with her stupid gorgeous hair and nails and her stupid boobs that he couldn’t stop staring at. But hey… Who am I to complain?

“Ashton’s a good manager,” he notes, bringing me back to the present.

“Yes, he is.”

“Is your sister okay, though? You mentioned an IV?”

“She’s pregnant and hasn’t been able to keep anything down in months. The doctors were worried about her, and we got sick of driving to the ER every few days for fluids, so they sent everything home with us. Usually, it’s fine. But because she’s stubborn, she likes to wait until the last minute to finally give in and hook herself up to the IV, which means she felt shaky and nauseated and couldn’t focus for the life of her. That’s where I came in. Unfortunately, she lied and said she was feeling okay, but as I was walking out the door, she started puking––”

“Which means she wasn’t feeling okay,” he surmises.

“Exactly. So, I had to help her get all set up with it. Which is why I was late. And flustered.”

“That does sound stressful,” he murmurs, taking my word vomit like a champ. Poor guy. He probably didn’t know what he was getting into when he offered to drive me home, but at least I’m not walking by myself to the bus station in the middle of the night.

“Is the father involved?”

I shake my head. “Not in the slightest.”

He stays quiet, but I don’t miss the way his knuckles tighten around the steering wheel or how tight his jaw looks as the streetlights reflect off his chiseled features. He’s not the only one who’s frustrated when it comes to Maddie’s secret lover. The fact that she showed up on my parents’ porch pregnant and alone was all the information I needed to confirm my worst fear. He’s a deadbeat jerk, and that isn’t Maddie’s fault. Why should she have to pay for their consequences alone?

“I get it,” Gibson mumbles after another minute. “My dad wasn’t exactly involved, either.”

Surprised he brought him up, especially after our conversation at his house where I could practically see the steam coming from his ears at the mere mention of his father, I lick my lips and try to tread lightly.

“I may have pieced that together.”

“Figured.” He chuckles dryly but doesn’t tell me anything else. Which is fine. Totally fine. He’s allowed to have his privacy like I’m allowed to have mine. But the silence? Yeah, the silence is threatening to swallow me whole again, and I’m not ready for that. Especially now that we’ve finally started chatting like two normal human beings.

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