Page 65 of Four More The Merrier

"Plus it lights up," Lyle adds, reaching over to press a hidden button. The rhinestones start twinkling like Christmas lights.

"This is amazing." Quinn puts it on, striking an exaggerated pose. "How do I look?"

"Like a disco ball threw up on your head," I snort, but I can't help smiling at how her eyes sparkle with genuine joy.

Beau clears his throat, holding out a wrapped package. "This one's from me."

Quinn carefully peels back the paper, revealing a leather-bound journal with her initials tooled into the cover. Her fingers trace the detailed scrollwork.

"I saw you writing in that beat-up notebook the other night," Beau says softly. "Thought maybe you could use something a little sturdier."

"It's beautiful," she whispers, opening it to reveal cream-colored pages. "But this must have cost-"

"Don't." Beau cuts her off. "Just... write something amazing in it, okay?"

She hugs the journal to her chest, and I have to look away from the raw emotion on her face. The bracelet feels heavier on my wrist.

My heart pounds as I watch Quinn's face fall slightly when she thinks everyone's done giving gifts. The guitar case hidden in my room feels like it's burning a hole in my conscience.

"Hold up." I stand, swaying slightly as my hangover protests. "Got one more thing."

The others exchange surprised looks as I duck into the back. The case is right where I left it, wrapped in a red bow I stole from the hotel lobby's Christmas tree.

Quinn's eyes widen as I carry it out. "Jarron..."

"Just..." I clear my throat. "Open it before I change my mind."

Her hands shake as she unlatches the case. Inside lies a Martin D-28, its spruce top gleaming under the bus's fluorescent lights. I'd noticed her eyeing it in that music shop last week, the way her fingers had ghosted over the strings before checking the price tag and walking away.

"I can't-" Her voice breaks. "This is too much."

"Your old one's falling apart," I mumble, running my hands through my hair. "And you can't keep borrowing mine during soundcheck. Besides..." I gesture vaguely at the bracelet on my wrist. "I really am sorry for being such a dick to you in the beginning. You got me thinking about what really matters."

She lifts the guitar out with reverent hands, tears spilling down her cheeks as she strums a chord. The pure, rich tone fills the bus.

"Thank you," she whispers, and the genuine emotion in her voice makes my chest tight.

"Yeah, well." I shrug, uncomfortable with the way everyone's staring at me. "Merry Christmas or whatever."

31

QUINN

Christmas has come and gone and I must say it was one of the best I've ever had. Sure, I got a measly phone call from my parents thanking me for their gifts I mailed, and apologizing for not sending me something since they didn't know what city I was in on my "quest for fame."

I sit in my bunk, strumming my new guitar - Jarron's Christmas gift - when Beau pokes his head through the curtain.

"Want to grab breakfast? Just us?"

"I promised Lyle I'd help him shop for his mom's birthday gift," I say, guilt twisting in my stomach.

"Oh." His smile dims. "Maybe dinner then?"

Before I can answer, Austen appears behind him. "Quinn, you're still on for songwriting this afternoon, right?"

The cramped hallway of the tour bus suddenly feels even smaller with both of them there. My cheeks heat as memories of intimate moments with each of them flash through my mind.

"Actually," Jarron calls from the front lounge, "we need to work on that harmony for the new arrangement."

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