Page 26 of Four More The Merrier

I cut him off by humming the opening bars. His jaw tightens.

"Actually," I say, settling onto a stool with my guitar, "I've covered it a few times. Though I usually do it in A minor instead of G."

"We're not changing the key," Jarron snaps.

"Fine by me." I strum a G chord. "Original key it is."

The first attempt is painful. Jarron deliberately speeds up the tempo, throwing off my timing. I catch up, but Austen's harmony is completely out of sync.

"Stop, stop," Monica waves her hands. "Jarron, quit trying to lose her. Again."

The second try, I match Jarron note for note, but he cuts off my verse early.

"This is ridiculous," he throws down his guitar pick. "She's butchering it."

"I'm following your lead," I shoot back. "Maybe if you'd stop trying to sabotage-"

"You want to see how it's really done?" He grabs his guitar. "Beau, Austen, let's show her."

They launch into the song at breakneck speed, Jarron's voice aggressive rather than emotional. I sit back, watching them burn through it like they're trying to set the studio on fire.

"Happy now?" Jarron demands when they finish.

"That was terrible," Monica states flatly. "You just turned a love song into a declaration of war."

"Beau, what's that book with that quote, all's fair in love and war?" Austen shouts towards him.

Monica crosses her arms, her gaze sweeping across the studio. "You know what I think? I think it's pretty sad that four grown men feel so threatened by one woman with a guitar."

"We're not threatened," Jarron scoffs, but his fingers fumble with his guitar strap.

"Really?" Monica arches an eyebrow. "Because from where I'm standing, you're acting like a bunch of territorial tomcats who just had their favorite sandbox invaded."

Austen slumps against the wall. "We just don't want-"

"To be shown up?" I interject, packing away my guitar.

"Listen here-" Jarron starts, but Monica cuts him off.

"No, you listen. Quinn, honey?" She turns to me with a knowing smile. "Remember this - haters are your biggest motivators. And right now?" She glances pointedly at Jarron and Austen. "You've got plenty of motivation."

"This is bullshit," Jarron mutters, storming out of the studio.

Austen follows, but not before throwing me one last glare. Beau lingers by the door, looking like he wants to say something, but Jarron's sharp "Let's go!" sends him shuffling after his bandmates.

Lyle pauses beside me. "For what it's worth, your version was better."

"Thanks," I say, shouldering my guitar case. "Though I think I just made myself some powerful enemies."

"Nah," Lyle grins. "Just some powerfully bruised egos."

I watch them leave, Monica's words echoing in my head. Haters are my biggest motivators. Well, in that case, I should be unstoppable by Christmas.

14

LYLE

From my spot behind the drums, I have the perfect view of Quinn working her magic on stage. Her voice carries through the arena, pure and strong, as she strums her guitar. The crowd's already warming up to her - I spot dozens of phones recording her performance.

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