Page 51 of Falling for the Guy Next Door

“Wow, I love it.” Emily scrolled down. “It’s already gotten more than fifty thousand views. This might be exactly what they need to get the band moving. Maybe I’ll be on that yacht with Nash, after all.”

I released the breath I’d been holding. Emily hadn’t noticed that he spoke about copper hair, and there was no reason she should have. They were just lyrics. “Something he’d been messing around with” was how he’d described it, only his half-hearted effort might have paid off this time. Maybe the band would stay together. I hoped the song went viral and generated enough revenue to pay for Nash’s mom’s operation.

Emily put away the phone. “Gosh, he’s breathtaking. And that song. I think it’s going to be a hit, a big hit. Well, I think I’m all bicycled out this morning. I’m going to head back home. Swim later?”

“Are you still trying to convince me you like swimming in the ocean?”

“Nope, I just want an excuse to parade around in my new swimsuit in front of Audrey’s cottage. Although Nash is probably not home today. It’s his day off, and he’s a future rock star, so he’s no doubt hanging out with the band figuring out their next move.” Emily spoke confidently as if she had an insider’s track on Moonstone.

“I’m not sure what my afternoon is looking like.” Another lie to feed the blob, and I almost deflated that blob with my big confession before backing out. “I’m going to ride my bike a while longer. It’s too nice a day to be inside.”

We walked back to where the bikes were locked together. We parted at the end of the wharf. “We’ll talk later,” I said.There’s something I desperately need to tell you, I thought, but never uttered a word of it aloud.

ChapterThirty

Nash

The door swung open before I could knock. “Get in here,” Ronnie whispered loudly. “The two blockheads are still sleeping.” She continued in a fast-talking whisper. “They stayed up till three in the morning watching a horror movie marathon. I still can’t get the sound of suspenseful music and blood-curdling screams out of my head.” She grabbed my hand and pulled me along to the small front room. “Sit,” she commanded.

I sat. “Uh, officer, what did I do wrong?”

Ronnie pulled out her phone. “What did you do wrong?” She was still hissing through a whisper.

“Why are we being so hush-hush?” I asked, mimicking her dramatic whisper routine.

She sat next to me with a plunk. “Because I wanted a chance to talk to you about this before those two found out.”

“All right. You’re starting to freak me out, Ronnie.”

She held her phone up and pushed it close enough to my face that I had to lean back. It was my video. I hadn’t looked at it since I posted it.

“Oh wow, you found my video. I was just messing around.” I was done whispering.

“Well, your ‘just messing around’ already has a hundred thousand views. Your song, the one you apparently wrote in secret, has gone viral. Fans are begging to download the new track. Of course, I had no idea that this little gem of a video existed out there in the internet-o-sphere, but it’s bringing some great traffic to our site. I noticed that our downloads and streams had gone through the roof overnight. Then I saw your video.” She held up her phone. “Hundred and fifty thousand. This will be at a million by noon.”

I sat back, flabbergasted. “I don’t know what to say. I swear I was just working on this song that I had no real plans for. I got inspired …” I stopped, but it was too late. Ronnie caught what I said.

She sat forward with a teasing grin. “Aha, I wondered if there was someinspirationbehind this song. Does this inspiration, by any chance, have copper hair?”

I nodded and relaxed back against the couch cushions. “She does, and since none of our other originals ever went viral, it seems I needed that inspiration to finally write something people loved.”

Ronnie was scrolling through her phone as I spoke. “They love it all right. We need to get the song up on our site as soon as possible. This thing has big download potential. My gosh, Nash, you nailed it, and it didn’t even take any professional sound editing or studio. Just you on a couch with your guitar.”

The news had hit me like a sonic blast, but I was slowly absorbing it. “Wait, do you think we could make enough that I could pay for that first installment on my mom’s procedure?”

“If things keep going the way they are, and I see no reason why they wouldn’t, then yeah. I think we’ll all be making a solid chunk of cash. Your new video was just what we needed to introduce fans to our music.” She paused and got a funny look on her face. “I don’t want to go all legal-eze on you, but you posted this on the band’s social media and used our fan base?—”

“Ronnie, it’s all right. Of course we’ll share these profits. We’re still a band at the moment, and to be honest, I’m hurt that you would think otherwise.”

Ronnie laughed. “Sorry, that was my greedy financial brain talking. I know you’re not like that. I’m like that, so I always expect other people to be the same way.”

Footsteps pulled our attention to the hallway. Bosco was shirtless, in a pair of shorts. He was rubbing his hair, and it stuck out in every direction. His face had that just-woke-from-a-heavy-sleep look, but he was staring intensely at his phone. “What the?—”

“Yep, our singer posted a little song he’d been messing around with, and well, it’s on fire,” Ronnie said.

Bosco glared at me. It was exactly the kind of reaction I expected. “You posted a song without our input?” He was about to start on a rant, but Ronnie stopped him.

“Our downloads are through the roof,” she said.

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