Page 5 of Bitter Beats

Mckenna scoffs. “What’s the matter? Can’t control yourself?”

I open my eyes. “Fine, no drugs.”

“And no girls,” Mckenna tacks on, pointing toward the front door Lia walked through minutes earlier.

I laugh. “Are you fucking kidding me? No girls.” I shake my head. “Be real, Mckenna. This ismyhouse,” I remind her.

She glares at me.

Holding up a hand in surrender, I compromise. “How ‘bout this, we each get veto power over three people?”

“What?”

I sigh, insinuating she’s daft, which couldn’t be further from the truth. Mckenna narrows her eyes, and I fight the urge to laugh. As much as she pisses me off, I like the spark of ferocity that lurks in the depths of her navy eyes. “Veto power. We can each invoke it three times if there’s someone the other one of us brings around that we don’t like. I don’t want any of your weirdo friends asking me for autographs or trying to steal my shit.”

“My friends would never?—”

“And I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable living here. So, we protect our space, yeah?”

Mckenna’s quiet for a long moment as if searching my words for a hidden meaning. A catch. What a fucking lawyer. “Yeah, okay,” she finally agrees.

“Anything else?” I prompt.

She bites her bottom lip, thinking. “No parties without clearing it with the other person.”

I smirk. As if she’s going to throw a rager? Outside of Allegra, Ivy, and Nova, I wonder if Mckenna even has friends. “Fine.”

“And we split cleaning responsibilities. I’ll do?—”

“We have someone for that,” I cut her off. “Eleanor comes two mornings a week.”

“Oh, okay.” Her eyes dart around the kitchen. “Well, I’ll split the cost wi?—”

“What else?” I’m not taking her money for a cleaning service we keep going year-round, whether anyone is living here or not.

Mckenna rolls her lips together. “I guess that’s it. Just, you know, if you’re not going to come home for a stretch of time—like days or weeks—some common decency would be nice. Let me know.” Her voice goes soft and catches at the end.

If I was a decent guy, I’d feel something at the vulnerability she shows. At least something that would hold me back from taunting her. Unfortunately, I’m my father’s son, so definitely not that guy. Placing a hand over my heart, I tilt my head. “Aw, you’d worry?”

Her eyes snap to mine, a faint blush staining her cheeks. “I, uh, well, yeah,” she stutters, unlike herself.

I chuckle, but inside, surprise ripples through me. Would Mckenna care if I disappeared? My vanishing act, inherited from dear old dad, is my specialty. I’ve pulled it off enough times that my bandmates, Mom, and even Jameson don’t bother trying to find me.

Something pulls tight in my chest, and I rub at it, caught off guard by Mckenna’s concern. It’s nice to know someone would notice. That she would give a damn.

“Just, don’t go on any stupid benders and forget to phone in,” she snaps, her annoyance flaring.

Ah, there she is. I exhale, relieved to be back on steady ground.

Sighing, Mckenna adds, “I gotta get to class. We good?” She places her espresso cup in the sink and turns on the faucet.

“We’re good. Just one more thing.”

She quirts dish soap onto a sponge and glances at me over her shoulder.

I point at her, needing to drive this one home. “Stay out of my room and out of the studio.”

The last thing I need is Mckenna wading through my shit, or worse, seeing some of the lyrics and music I write to shake off the silence. It’s something I mess around with in the studio we’ve got downstairs. Since we started renting out space with more equipment, I’ve claimed the one in our brownstone as my haven. My lyrics are nowhere near as good as Derek’s, but they’re a hell of a lot better than when I first started writing.

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