Page 55 of Forbidden Lyrics

“Only a few songs,” Fen clarifies. “You’ll get to hang out with the band. See the sights. You’ll love it––”

“Stop trying to convince her,” Gibson growls. “Let her think about it.”

With his arms raised in surrender, Fender backs away a few feet. “Of course. She can think about it. And you can think about it too, all right? But let me know what you two decide so I can pass the info along to Dad.”

“Don’t call him that,” Gibson sneers.

“Donny. Let me know so I can pass the information along to Donny.”

“Why would you need to pass the information along to Donny instead of to Hawthorne himself?” Gibson demands, his gaze narrowed in suspicion.

“Because I made a shit first impression, and Hawthorne doesn’t want to talk to me. Honestly, from what I understood, the only leverage Donny could use was you and Dove after Hawthorne mentioned that he liked you guys.” Fender leans against the sink opposite of the fridge and rubs his hand over his face, his shoulders hunching. “Let’s be honest here. He agreed to Broken Vows because of you guys. Without you, the band won’t be opening for Organized Chaos. It’s that simple.”

And just like that, the weight of Fender’s future––and Stoker’s, and Phoenix’s, and Gibson’s––falls on my shoulders. There’s already enough pressure on me. So much pressure that sometimes I feel like I can’t breathe. But it’s a tour. With a huge band. Where I would get to travel. And try new food. And sing on a stage in front of people. Real people. And a stage that isn’t my car with the radio on full blast or my shower when no one’s watching. An actual stage. With a real audience. It’s a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.

And I’m going to have to turn it down because of Maddie. And her mistake. Her obligation. Her baby.

Squeezing my eyes shut in search of strength, I fight off my disappointment, my own desires, and my own dreams. Then I look over at Fen and confide softly, “I can’t go on tour with you guys.”

“Why not?” Fender asks.

“My sister.”

He frowns. “What about her?”

“She’s pregnant. She needs me.”

“But this is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity––”

“Get out of my house, Fen,” Gibson orders, his tone brooking no argument.

Fender argues, “I’m just saying––”

“We’ll talk later.”

“Fine.” But Fender’s feet stay planted in place as he points his forefinger at Gibbs. “You in?”

Gibbs hesitates, his attention shifting to mine before returning to his brother.

“We’ll talk later,” he repeats, softer this time.

Satisfied, Fender lifts his chin at me. “You got the spark, Dove. Don’t let your sister hold you back from shining, yeah?”

But he doesn’t get it. It’s not like she wants to hold me back. Honestly, if she knew about this opportunity, she’d probably shove me out the door and make me go. But I can’t do that to her. She’s going to need help. She’s going to need support. She’s going to need someone to step in and walk her through parenthood. And if the father won’t do it, it’s up to me.

When Fender realizes I’m not going to answer him, he dips his chin and heads to the front door, leaving me all alone with a guy who I can’t quite put my finger on. Especially after the last time we were together. Thankfully, the gigantic bomb that Fender threw in my lap right now is enough of a distraction, and I’m too exhausted to address the giant elephant in the room that’s my attraction to Gibbs.

With my head in my hands, I fight the urge to laugh and to cry at the same time. This is insane. There’s no way I can actually do this. The logistics don’t work.

“What are you thinking?” Gibbs murmurs after a few minutes. The barstool next to mine creaks slightly as he sits down and rests his elbows on the countertop in front of us.

“I’m thinking this is crazy,” I answer honestly, setting aside my own feelings and insecurities in regards to the sexy musician beside me to focus on the other giant mess-slash-opportunity that has now fallen in my lap.

“It is,” he agrees.

“And that I hate disappointing people.”

His chuckle is low and soft but still sends tingles racing down my spine as he nudges my shoulder with his. “Who are you afraid of disappointing?”

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