Page 24 of Four More The Merrier

"Exactly. Though reading about California while we're freezing our asses off in Montana feels like cruel and unusual punishment."

She shivers, wrapping her arms around herself. "God, tell me about it. And I thought my shitty apartment with the broken radiator back in Nashville was cold."

"I know exactly what you mean," I say, adjusting my hat. "My first place in West Virginia had this ancient space heater that sounded like a dying locomotive. Used to wrap myself in every blanket I owned just to practice bass."

Quinn's eyebrows lift. "You're from West Virginia?"

"Little town called Bluefield. Had this basement apartment that flooded every time it rained." I chuckle, remembering those early days. "The landlord's solution was to give me a shop vac and tell me to 'stay on top of it.'"

"No way." She shakes her head, laughing. "What did you do?"

"Put all my gear up on milk crates. Learned real quick to keep an eye on the weather forecast." I tap my book against my leg. "Actually wrote some of our first songs down there, sitting on my bed with my feet up on a chair to keep them dry."

"That's both horrible and kind of perfect."

"Yo, Beau!" Austen's voice cuts through our conversation. "After party at The Lodge. Let's roll!"

I glance at Quinn, who's already shrinking back against the wall. "You want to come? They've got great buffalo wings."

Jarron appears behind Austen, already changed into fresh clothes that smell like expensive cologne. "She wasn't invited." He crosses his arms, biceps flexing under his tight shirt. "Band and special guests only."

Quinn waves it off, but I catch the slight tremor in her hand. "No worries. I've got some writing to do anyway. That crowd tonight gave me some inspiration."

"You sure?" My stomach twists. "We could grab food somewhere else-"

"Go." She pulls her phone from her dress pocket. "Really. I need to call my friend Abby anyway, let her know I survived my first show."

"If you're done playing social worker," Jarron calls out, "the car's waiting."

Quinn gives me a small smile. "Thanks for being nice to me. Most people wouldn't bother."

I adjust my hat, feeling like the world's biggest asshole for leaving her alone. "You killed it tonight. Don't let anyone tell you different."

She heads toward the exit, her sequined dress catching the light one last time before she disappears around the corner. I watch her go, that knot in my stomach getting tighter.

"Earth to Beau!" Austen snaps his fingers in front of my face. "You coming or what?"

I follow them out to the waiting SUV, but my mind stays back in that hallway with the girl who deserves better than this cold shoulder treatment. The same girl who just proved every one of our assumptions wrong.

13

QUINN

The elevator doors slide open to reveal four hungover faces and their manager Monica beaming like she's about to host a children's party. My stomach drops.

"Good morning, everyone!" Monica chirps, way too enthusiastic for 9 AM. "Welcome to our first team building exercise."

"You've got to be fucking kidding me, I'm way too hungover for this," Jarron groans, slumping into a chair.

"Lightweights," Beau huffs as he rolls his eyes.

I hover near the door, contemplating if I could make a break for it. The conference room feels smaller than yesterday, especially with Austen sprawled across two chairs and Lyle face-down on the table.

"No kidding here." Monica claps her hands. "We're going to start with a fun little exercise-"

"I'd rather eat glass," Austen mutters.

"What was that?" Her smile doesn't waver.

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