Page 64 of Forbidden Lyrics

“I will,” Reese replies. “And Dove?”

“Yeah?”

“For what it’s worth, I think you make Gibson happy too. Especially if you were able to get him on stage in front of a bunch of people. He’d be lucky to have you.”

If only he wanted me.

Digging my teeth into my lower lip, I let out another sigh and pull my knees to my chest as the familiar senses of indecision and inadequacy overwhelm me.

“Dove? You still there?”

“Yeah,” I breathe out. “I’m here. Sorry. I guess you’ve given me a lot to think about.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make the water any murkier––”

“You haven’t. To be honest, I don’t think it could get any murkier––”

“How about I make it easy for you? In twenty years, when you look back at your life, will you regret saying no to touring with a huge up-and-coming band for one summer?”

My chest tightens, but I stay silent. The idea of turning down this opportunity crushes me. The sights. The crowds. The songs. The thought of missing any of it makes me want to cry.

But the idea of leaving Maddie alone makes me want to cry, too. I can’t let her go through the rest of her pregnancy alone. Who’s going to buy her peanut butter or Wonder bread? Who’s going to remind her of her doctor appointments? She’s barely left the house since I moved in.

But she has been feeling better. At least somewhat, anyway. We haven’t had to use any IVs in a few weeks, and at her last appointment, the doctor said everything was going smoothly. That’s something, at least.

Maybe I could make it work.

“Just think about it,” Reese prods, bringing me back to the present. “I gotta get going, but thanks for calling, Dove. I’ve missed you.”

“I’ve missed you, too,” I murmur. “If you need anything, I’m here for you, okay?”

“Ditto. Bye, Dove.”

“See ya.”

I hang up and tap the corner of my phone against my chin as a sea of questions threatens to pull me under.

Maybe she’s right. Maybe I should take the leap instead of overthinking everything. Maybe I should let Maddie deal with her own repercussions for a little while. It’s not like I’ll be gone for the birth. Besides, she might like the space for a bit. Maybe.

What do I have to lose?

Chapter Seventeen

Dove

As I wipe the sticky cocktail from the table with my damp, white rag, a familiar voice stops me. “Hey, can I have your number?”

I glance behind me. “Oh. Hey, Fen. What?”

“Sonny’s refusing to give me your number because he doesn’t want you to feel any pressure about the tour.”

My mouth quirks up on one side. “So, you’ve decided to bombard me at work while he was in the back?”

“Like a ninja, yes.”

“Smooth,” I quip, my gaze catching on a handful of girls sitting a few tables away. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say they’re drooling over Fender’s rockstar persona that he wears like a fitted glove. The daggers they’re throwing my way aren’t helping.

“Ignore them,” he mutters, leaning closer with his head cocked and his entire body oozing charisma from every pore. “I don’t want your number to persuade you. I want to invite you to a killer party to persuade you.”

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