Page 5 of No More Love Songs

CHAPTER TWO

SKYLAR

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“Who did you get forthe piano?” I ask, following Grayson inside like I live here. Which I don’t. Officially.

“Kit Morgan.” He places his load of bags filled with takeout boxes on the kitchen counter and steps aside for me to unload mine next. “You’ll dig him. He’s been my first choice of pianist for the last ten years.”

I make a face. “If he’s your favorite, how come he’s never worked on any of my stuff before?” Because I kind of thought I was Grayson’s favorite too.

He laughs at me. Something he does a lot more of when we’re standing in his house and not in an official work setting. “You can drag the crazy back a little. I’ve tried to get him in on your projects plenty. Timing just never worked in the past.” He turns and walks toward the swinging door connecting the kitchen to the main living space of the house. “Food’s here,” he calls out into the great beyond. Shortly after, footsteps can be heard shuffling their way toward us and the door swings back and forth several times while my brother and their three kids hustle into the kitchen.

“What did you get?” Brice asks, going straight for the first bag to unpack it.

“Hello to you to you.” Grayson has time for half a scowl before my brother abandons the takeout to smack a loud kiss on his husband’s lips. Then, Gray is all smiles. “Thai. I was craving Tom Yum Goong.”

“What’s that?” My nephew Kai’s cute little nose is scrunched up and his tiny, perfect brow is cocked with all the delighted curiosity expected of a five-year-old.

“It’s gross,” his sister Maya fills him in. She’s nine with a palette to match and thus she currently only enjoys dairy and carbs. Mac and cheese. That’s what she eats.

“It’s shrimp soup,” Finn says matter of factly. He’s thirteen and can’t be bothered with his sister’s childish ways anymore; he’s far too sophisticated now. “It’s spicy. You won’t like it.” Bit snobbish at the moment too, but I don’t mind.

“Also,” I say loudly over the commotion circulating around dinner. “I’m here.”

Everyone stops their digging around for food to stare at me. “You’re here every night,” Maya points out the obvious.

“You live here,” Kai adds, eyes going a little wide as they drift back and forth a bit confused by my outburst.

“No, she doesn’t,” my brother says dryly. “And someday, when you’re older and she finally goes back to her own house, you’ll understand that.”

“In any event,” I brush past my brother’s comments, “I like to be greeted.”

There’s an unenthusiastic hello from the crowd but it’s pretty much drowned out by the rustling of plastic bags as everyone resumes their hunt for dinner.

“You guys know I’m famous, right? Like, any other kitchen in the world would be thrilled to have me in it.” This at least gets a laugh out of my brother and two of the kids.

“Wait until after the album is done. Reappearing after five days in the basement studio is usually enough to garner some excitement,” Grayson mumbles so only I can hear.

“I think Brice is right,” I admit, twisting up my mouth. “I need to go home more.”

Grayson nudges my side with his elbow. “Funny, I thought Kai was right.” Then he winks, smoothly reaches past Brice and Maya to grab his container of Tom Yum Goong, snags a spoon from the dishrack by the sink and has a seat at their kitchen table.

Where Gray had a very specific interest in dinner, mine is more scattered, and so I wait until everyone else has picked over the buffet before I make my plate. By the time I’m done, I have one spoonful of everything and find the only seat at the table left is at the very end beside Kai. I love my nephew, but I can’t help thinking it was intentional leaving me to sit with him. Kai has a knack for wanting everything the person next to him has. Doesn’t seem to matter how often we have the ‘grass isn’t actually greener on the other side’ talk with him, he continues to be certain the thing he wants most is what he doesn’t have.

I barely have my first bite situated on my fork when I hear it.

“That looks good.”

“I think so too.” I open my mouth to welcome my food.

“Can I try it?”

My mouth closes. It’s still empty. “Sure.” And my fork detours toward his.

“Yum!”

I’m glad to hear it. “Do you want to switch plates, Kai?” I offer, assessing the selection Brice put together for his son. It’s not terrible. And right now, probably presents my best bet at having an actual meal here tonight.

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