Page 7 of Forbidden Lyrics

“No, it’s…” I bite my lip, desperate to run away, though my curiosity keeps my feet planted. “You’re really talented. You should be playing in front of people with a voice like that.”

Ignoring my compliment, he twists the tuning peg on his guitar, clearly dismissing me, but another question tumbles out of me nonetheless. “Why do I recognize that song?”

“Because you’ve heard it before,” he grumbles, clearly even more annoyed with my presence than usual. And that’s saying something. I don’t get it. He’s always friendly to every other person on the planet except me. Maybe he’d be nicer if I got the hint and left him alone.

Am I really this dense?

“Oh?” I push, unable to help myself.

“Broken Vows played it at SeaBird the other night. I’m making a few adjustments.”

Adjustments? Why?

“For fun?” I press. “Or…?”

I thought I was the only one quirky enough to mess with lyrics, melodies, and harmonizing.

With another sigh, he pinches the bridge of his nose. “My brother’s the face of the band, but I write the music.”

“Wait.” Convinced I heard him wrong, I point to the guitar in his lap. “Y-you wrote that?”

“Don’t look so surprised, Dove.”

I do my best to school my features, but it’s a losing battle. “Sorry. I just…”

“Just what?”

“I guess I’m a little surprised,” I admit.

“Why’s that?”

“They’re really good.”

He cocks his head. “And that’s surprising?”

“No. It’s…”––I take a deep breath––”it kind of felt like I was pulling teeth to get you to admit that you’re the master behind the music.”

“I don’t stick my nose in your business, Dove. I’d appreciate it if you didn’t stick yours in mine.” The venom in his words burns like a snake bite as his face transforms from his usual laid-back persona to a defensive stranger.

Mouth gaping and feeling like I’ve been slapped, I search for something to say but come up empty.

I need to get out of here.

“I, uh, I’m sorry. I’ll…” I turn toward the bathroom, then change my mind and dig up the courage to face him again. His eyes are hard as he studies me carefully. I’d give anything to know what he’s thinking, but I’m not about to push my luck and ask.

Taking another deep breath, I tell him the truth. “You’re really talented, Gibbs. I’m sorry that I overstepped my bounds, and I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable, but I think you have something. And it’s something special. I don’t know what it is, but it took me less than ten seconds to hear it. You shouldn’t be ashamed of it. You should embrace it.” I turn around to disappear like a bat out of Hell when his deep, gritty voice stops me.

“Dove.”

Sucking my lips into my mouth, I look over my shoulder but stay silent.

“I’m an ass.”

“It’s fine.”

“It’s not fine.”

“I’m used to it––”

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