Page 27 of Four More The Merrier

"She's actually getting better at this, damnit," Austen mutters from the wings, arms crossed.

"She was always good," I say, adjusting my drumsticks. "You just didn't want to admit it."

A group of teenage girls near the front row are swaying, singing along to Quinn's chorus. They must've looked up her songs after previous shows.

"Look at that," I nudge Beau, who's watching intently. "Those girls know all the words already."

Quinn finishes her set with a smile that lights up the whole stage. The applause is genuine, lasting longer than that awkward polite clapping from her first few shows.

"Thank you, Boise!" she calls out, and the crowd cheers louder.

As she walks backstage, I catch her wiping her eyes quickly.

"You okay there, songbird?" I ask.

"Yeah, I just..." She gestures toward the stage. "Did you see them singing along? To my song?"

"Hard to miss. You're building quite the following."

Jarron brushes past us. "Don't let it go to your head. They're here for us."

"Ignore him," I say after he's gone. "He's just mad because that group of girls had your face on their poster instead of his."

Quinn laughs, her shoulders relaxing. "I saw that. First time anyone's ever made a sign for me."

"Won't be the last," I say, giving her shoulder a squeeze. "Better get used to it, songbird. This is just the beginning."

She heads off to change for meet-and-greet, and I catch Beau watching her go, that same soft look in his eyes he's had since day one.

I catchQuinn heading toward the hotel exit while the others are packing up their gear. It's hard to miss her cowprint bell bottoms and baby doll top - damn she pulls it off.

"Hey songbird, you coming to The Lotus tonight?" I ask, shouldering my backpack.

She shakes her head, auburn hair falling across her face. "Thanks, but I don't want to crash where I'm not welcome."

"Who says you're not welcome?"

"Come on, Lyle." She adjusts her guitar case strap. "The wondertwins have made it pretty clear how they feel about me."

"Jarron and Austen?" I wave my hand dismissively. "Screw them. Look, come as my plus one. My band date."

Her eyebrows shoot up. "Your what now?"

"My band date. It's a thing." It's not a thing, but she doesn't need to know that. "I'll meet you outside The Lotus at ten. We'll show those jerks you belong here just as much as anyone else."

A small smile tugs at her lips. "And if they give me shit?"

"Then I'll remind them who controls the tempo during their solos." I tap my drumsticks against my leg. "So? What do you say?"

She considers for a moment, then nods. "Okay, fine. But I'm not staying if they start acting like assholes."

"Fair enough. Ten o'clock sharp, songbird. Don't leave me hanging."

"I won't." She heads for the door, then turns back. "Hey Lyle? Thanks for being nice to me."

"I'm not being nice. I'm being smart. Someone in this band has to recognize talent when they see it."

The neon signof The Lotus bleeds purple across the sidewalk as I check my watch. Ten on the dot. An Uber pulls up, and Quinn steps out in a black, long sleeve crop top and high-waisted jeans that hug every curve. Her auburn hair falls in waves past her shoulders, and she's traded her usual minimal makeup for smokey eyes that make the hazel in them pop.

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