Page 41 of Four More The Merrier

"Was it at least a good song?"

"It was terrible. The cat died before I finished it."

I laugh, then immediately regret it as my stomach lurches. "Don't make me laugh. It hurts."

"Sorry." She hands me the ginger ale. "Though I have to say, this is the first time I've seen you smile without it being for cameras or groupies."

"I smile."

"Smirking doesn't count."

On screen, the songwriter is butchering "Silent Night" in what's supposed to be a romantic moment.

"Even sick, I could sing that better," I mutter.

"Prove it."

"What?"

"Sing it. Right now." She pauses the movie. "Unless you're scared."

"I'm not scared of anything." I clear my throat and start singing softly, keeping it simple. To my surprise, Quinn joins in with a perfect harmony.

Our voices blend in the quiet bus, and for a moment, I forget about my churning stomach and all the reasons I'm supposed to dislike her. When we finish, there's this weird tension in the air.

"Not bad, Haynes." She unpauses the movie. "For someone who's dying of bad sushi."

"Not bad yourself, Dupree."

21

BEAU

Ilean back in the tour bus lounge, absently plucking at my bass while watching Quinn and Austen harmonize on a new song she's working on. The sight still catches me off guard sometimes - how far we've come from those first tense days.

"Your timing's off," Quinn teases him, nudging his shoulder. "Maybe stick to your day job."

"My timing's perfect, darlin'. You're the one rushing the bridge." He grins and reaches for his water bottle.

My chest warms seeing them actually getting along. It's like night and day from a few weeks ago. The tension has melted away, replaced by an easy camaraderie I never expected. Jarron is still a work in progress, but his Ebeneezer Scrooge persona has melted quite a bit.

"Earth to Beau," Lyle calls out, snapping his fingers. "You gonna join us or just sit there looking pretty?"

"Just enjoying the view," I drawl, setting my bass aside. "Never thought I'd see the day Austen would volunteer his assistance."

Quinn's laugh fills the bus. "He's only doing it because he knows I'll make him sound better."

"It's very possible," Jarron agrees, surprising us all.

The way Quinn's eyes light up at the compliment makes something flutter in my stomach. She's really found her place with us, bringing out sides of my bandmates I'd forgotten existed. Even Austen stopped with the snide comments, actually asking her opinion on arrangements now.

The tour bus door slams shut behind the guys, leaving Quinn and me in a comfortable silence. She's curled up on the couch, notebook balanced on her knees, chewing absently on her pen cap. The December Nevada air seeps through the windows, making her pull her oversized sweater tighter.

"Hey Quinn?" My heart thumps against my ribs. "There's this outdoor rink downtown. Thought maybe you'd like to go skating tonight?"

"I've never been skating before." A smile tugs at her lips. "I'll probably spend more time on my ass than my feet."

"That's half the fun. Plus, you'll have your own personal six-foot-three safety net."

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