Page 65 of Forbidden Lyrics

“I don’t go to parties.”

Pretty sure I’ve never been invited to one, a tiny voice inside of me adds. I shake my head and push the thought aside.

“You should,” Fender presses. “Because these things are fun, and fun is good.”

“Did you just quote Dr. Seuss?” I laugh.

“Maybe. One Fish, Two Fish, Red Fish, Blue Fish is a classic.”

Another laugh escapes me.

Who is this guy?

His eyes aren’t glazed, and he doesn’t reek of alcohol, which makes me wonder if this is one of the first times I’ve seen him really sober.

“That, it is,” I agree after a few seconds, way more amused than I should be at closing time.

“So, are you willing to take Dr. Seuss’s advice and have some fun with the band?”

“Aww, there’s the pressure Gibson was referring to.”

An unflustered Fender points out, “That’s not an answer. Come on. It’ll be fun. It’s only about an hour’s drive from here at a friend’s place. I can pick you up if you want.”

“As in…a date?” I ask, my voice quiet and shaky.

Fender rakes his fingers through his long, wavy hair and gives me a mischievous smile as he steps even closer to me. My butt bumps against the table I’d been wiping off, and my spine straightens.

“Pretty sure my brother would kill me if I asked you out,” he concedes. His gaze slides down my body. “But what a way to go.”

The rag slips from my fingers and lands with a heavy plop against the stained concrete floor. He bends down and picks it up for me.

“Don’t worry, Dovey. I know your secret.” He hands the rag back to me.

“A-and what secret is that?” I ask, my attention darting back to the table of girls plotting my death a few feet away.

“That you have a thing for my brother even though he’s too much of a bastard to get his head out of his ass and do something about it.” He brushes my hair away from my face. “Come with me to the party tomorrow night. As friends.”

“Fen,” Gibson barks.

My head snaps in his direction. Sitting on the bartop is a crate box full of hard liquor that he’d brought up from the back. And now he’s stalking over to us like a damn lion. Tall. Proud. And thoroughly pissed off.

“Told ya he’d kill me,” Fen breathes out for only me to hear. Then he raises his voice and adds, “Hey, Sonny. I was looking for you.”

“What do you want?”

“Dovey and I were discussing that party I was telling you about. You sure you still don’t want to come?”

His eyes narrow into tiny slits. “She’s not going to that party.”

“Yeah, she is.” Fender tosses his arm around my shoulders and pulls me into his side. “Isn’t that right, Dovey?”

If looks could kill, Fender would be curled up on the floor, and I’d be lying next to him.

Gibson glares and crosses his arms. “You’re not going.”

“Why not?” I ask, my temper flaring. I’ve already gotten out of one controlling relationship with my parents. I’m not about to step into another one.

“Because it’s not your scene,” Gibson informs me.

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