Page 119 of Red Hot Harmony

“So what do you suggest we do?” I pressed on. “Just let it go?”

“I don’t know. Talk to him or whatever. Just don’t file charges.”

Camille sat on the edge of the bed. “Why are you protecting him, Bug?”

“I’m not protecting him, Mom. I’m protecting myself... I don’t need any enemies. Not while I’m trying to get my name out there. Besides, high school’s already hard enough and you’ll just turn it into hell for me.”

Oddly, Ally made sense.

I still wanted to strangle the asshole, but I could imagine the stares of everyone at school, the whispers she’d hear behind her back, and trolls on social media.

“Tell you what, Hendrix,” I said. “If we’re going theserious conversationroute, you have to promise you’ll listen to your mom, not get anymore unauthorized tattoos, not run away or date boys she doesn’t approve of... She and I, actually.”

Ally quirked a brow.

“I get a say too.”

“Since when?”

“Since now.”

I felt both their glares on me, burning my skin to the very bone. It was a rush decision—to plant myself in their lives like this, without so much as a warning.

“So you two made up?” Ally drawled, eyes narrowing.

I nodded. “Sort of.”

“We’re still in the process of negotiation,” Camille blurted out.

“Anyway...” I clapped my hands, sensing this discussion had run its course and a distraction was needed. “Who wants to see where the magic is made?”

Frank was in his studio hunched over a control board when the three of us filed in.

He fell back in his chair and spun it to face us. “I was wondering when you were going to invade.” A small smile tilted the corner of his lips as he gave me a knowing look.

“Wow!” Ally strolled to the center of the room and studied the equipment, gaping at everything with huge eyes. “This is sick.” All the gloom seeped out of her in an instant.

Camille stood right behind me, motionless, and I couldn’t tell whether she was impressed or still fuming after I’d called dibs on parental duties.

“Well, let me give you a quick tour.” Frank rose to his feet and approached Ally, then dived into a mini tutorial about the space and his recording process.

I watched them silently, not wanting to burst that bubble of bliss they were both in.

A fraction of me was jealous of him, jealous of his ability to charm every single person who came into his orbit, but then I remembered that Ally was mine first. That she wasn’t just someone I’d discovered. She was someone I truly and deeply cared about and couldn’t afford to lose.

Startled by the realization, I took a step back and positioned myself behind Camille, then gently pulled her into my arms. Her back pressed to my chest.

I expected resistance, but none came.

Across the room, Frank was showing Ally one of the guitars he had here. It was a simple Fender, nothing to write home about. I assumed they used it when Izzy came over to write music or when he was messing around with new tunes. He wasn’t all that great with strings, but he knew the basics, which was probably more than enough for him to create the bare bones of a demo.

“Can I try?” Ally asked.

“Go for it.” Frank nodded and helped her plug the guitar into the amp. His gaze drifted over to me in the process, and old memories of us making music—memories I thought had been buried—broke through the surface and rushed to the forefront of my mind, bright and unsullied, as if it had happened yesterday and not months—no!—years ago.

My fingers itched as I watched Ally tune the guitar and produce a few simple chords.

Camille’s hand found mine.

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