Page 131 of Free to Fall

God, I hope she does.

“Why don’t you shove that stick further up your ass and leave us in peace so we can celebrate her overcoming the worst thing to happen to her, to us.” Jon backs up, still facing me. “You know what your problem is, Payne?”

“I assume you’re going to tell me.”

“You’re such an ass, you’ll never let yourself truly fall for the one person who already loves you.” With that, he spins on his heel to rejoin the foray.

Chapter

Seventy-Two

Austyn high-fives me even before she calls into the microphone, “My girl should give up medicine and come on the road with me.”

Her words are met with cheers from the music contingency and loud boos from most of our family. Throwing me a wink, she goes on, “There’s this incredible parallel between music and medicine. Did you know that?” Austyn places a lingering kiss on my cheek before heading to the back of the stage, where a drum kit is being set up.

Peter shouts, “Nice girl-on-girl action there, Austyn!” A hand—seemingly out of nowhere—reaches out and slaps my cousin upside the head. I crack up, realizing it’s Austyn’s husband who just pummeled him.

Catcalls come from all the cousins over Peter taking a rightful beat down. He accepts it good naturally, fist bumping with Austyn’s man while I’m lifted from the stage. Peter wraps an arm around my waist. Seconds after, instruments are moved into place even as three gorgeous men bound up to take their positions.

Austyn loops her arm around her father’s waist when rockstar Beckett Miller leans into his microphone over a keyboard. “All of us hope and pray when our loved ones are hurt that they get a doctor as dedicated as my Paigey and our own Dr. Laura Lockwood.”

The crowd cheers. I find Paige in the crowd and place a finger on my nose while pointing directly at my mentor. Sitting alongside the wife of Beckett’s lead bodyguard, she does the same back at me.

Then Uncle Brendan tacks on, “Or that we receive good news from medical diagnoses.” He kisses the tips of his finger and points it toward the back of the darkened bar to a man sitting in the shadows.

My eyes find Grace in the crowd. She claps, but the shrieking madness that’s consumed me, her, and Kalie all night temporarily disappears from her face. Gah, now my list of men I want to nut is growing.

Austyn slips behind the drum kit, and Uncle Jake winks at me as I take a slug from my champagne bottle. “Which is all a lead up to say, who’s heard of the expression, ‘only time will tell?’”

He lifts a horn to his lips and begins the intro to the famous song from Asia. Then Austyn kicks in with drums. Brendan with lead guitar.

Finally, Beckett begins to croon the first stanza of lyrics.

Within seconds I’m getting serenaded by two of the world’s most famous musicians and the man who writes many of their song lyrics—not that anyone but family knows that. Paige makes her way onto the dance floor and I can feel the way Beckett’s eyes kindle from the stage. On our other side, my parents are dancing, oblivious to everything but each other.

That’s the way love should be, I think with sudden clarity. Love should be a seduction, a comfort, a warm embrace amid chaos. It should be a fury, a storm, and a haven. What love shouldn’t be filled with is accusatory, distrustful, riddled with never-ending pain.

Maybe love isn’t Liam. At least loving Liam isn’t meant for me.

Maybe that’s what time is trying to tell me.

Peter deliberately bumps into me as the song approaches the refrain and shouts, “Look up!”

I shoot a quick glance at my mentor only to find her staring at her husband biting her lip. Beckett winks down at his wife before he shows off, spinning around and nailing his next chord. He then grabs the mic from the holder and moves closer to Jake. So does Brendan. All three men have a foot propped on an amp and lean forward to sing together in a perfect three-part harmony.

Meanwhile, Austyn—musical prodigy that she is—keeps wailing away at the mid tom and high hat.

I lean over to Peter and shout, “If we weren’t related to two out of the four of them, I might give up being a doctor and become a professional groupie. I mean, that shit’s hot.”

His laughter peals out. “I’m going to tell them you said that at the next family dinner.”

“Go right ahead, it’s not like you haven’t ...” My voice trails off as Peter’s smile fades.

Tingles, which have nothing to do with being serenaded by three gorgeous men, start at the base of my spine. I shouldn’t be surprised when my hair is brushed from the side of my neck and Liam’s voice shouts in my ear, “Can we talk, Laura? Please?” But I am.

I’m frozen in place until I see Peter lunge for him. I whirl around and back my body into my cousin’s to prevent him from spilling blood. I stare into Liam’s eyes for a long moment. Finally, because I’m a doctor and sworn to heal and don’t want his death on my hands, I nod.

I know there are too many people here who could easily snap him in two and are more than willing to volunteer for the effort.

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