Page 315 of Second Sets Omnibus
A deep sigh rocks through me when I plop onto Ly’s bed and grab the white bunny she’s been asking for. I was too afraid to come here alone and grab it. Just that simple action threw me into a tailspin of panic. And I’m way too hardheaded to admit to the guys that I needed them to help me.
My fingers swipe over the beady little eyes of her white bunny as I contemplate our future. Ly’s and mine. Plus, the guys. They’re going to graduate from my program with flying colors in a few months. Meaning they’re going to leave us again. For months on end. We may still be in a relationship, but they won’t physically be here. I know we’ll have video chats and text messages. But it won’t be the same. I need to be in their arms. And I guess that’s what terrifies me. I’ve fallen down the same deep, dark hole of commitment with them. Last time, they left town without saying goodbye. This time… I don’t know. I believe them when they say they’re all in, but that nagging voice in the back of my head that’s been burned before fucks with me.
I also won’t be the person to rip their passion away from them with ultimatums. Rocking out on stage is their fucking dream, something they’ve wished for since they started in high school.
I also can’t do that to myself. Sure, I could go on the road with them and bring Ly. But what kind of life would that be? Becoming a band manager has always been my dream. I shine here and finally feel like I’m doing some good. I thought I’d never achieve it. Not from Central City.
Here I am, doing what I wanted to do. Same goes for them. This has always been something they’ve wanted. They talked about it from the moment I met them.
We all got out of Central City. Now, I’m afraid of where it’s going to lead.
Closing my eyes, I finally settle all the shit going haywire inside me. From the fear of the future to the fear of sitting in myhouse, I blow it all out. We’ll deal with that when the time comes. Maybe we’ll strengthen what we have further, and it won’t be a problem.
Everything is okay. It will all be fine.
Except…
My head snaps up when what sounds like a dump truck makes its way up the driveway. Gears shift, brakes squeak, and its engine groans when it comes to a complete stop, idling loudly. Low murmurs sound outside as doors slam.
What the fuck? No one else should be here. Unless my new guard let them through.
Clutching Ly’s bunny, I rush out of her room and into the kitchen. My heart sputters in my chest at the memories of watching Break leave the band house months ago, listening as their moving trucks pulled into the driveway.
And as I stand in my kitchen, the same spot I was in before, and peek out the window, it’s happening all over again.
Moving trucks sit in front of the band house, with twenty or so movers walking straight into the house and grabbing items.
I scramble to grab my phone. There has to be an explanation for this. There’s no way they…no. They’re practicing. Right?
I bring the screen in front of my eyes, and a call with Seger’s name on it is coming through.
“Seger,” I say out a breath, unable to take my eyes off the shit happening across the street.
“River,” he mocks back in a smooth voice.
“Why…”
“I need you to come to the office. We need to, uh, have a meeting,” he says, clearing his throat like uncertainty is rocking through him.
“A meeting?” I ask, swallowing hard. “Wait. Where are Whispered Words, and why are there moving vans outside theirhouse?” Emotions bubble to the surface as I bring a fist to my trembling lips.
Was this all too much? Have they decided that this can’t happen anymore? Am I still too much baggage for them?
“Deep breaths,” Zepp pipes up in a smooth voice. “Just come down here. Take your time.”
“Don’t fucking crash on their account,” Seger quips playfully, not sounding the least bit worried about what is happening.
“Seriously? That’s all you’re going to give me? My band is moving out of the house… They…they…”
A sigh rocks through the phone. “I can tell you’re overthinking whatever is happening, Riv. Just trust us, okay? And please get down here so they can explain what’s happening. You might puncture my lung or something if I tell you. You need to hear everything from them.”
“Are they quitting?” I ask, swallowing the thick lump forming in my throat. If they’re quitting, then they probably got the offer they were looking for. We pay well, but they’re probably due a raise.
“Jesus. Yes. Now, would you get down here so they can explain everything? It’s not what it seems,” Seger says in what he thinks is a soothing voice.
It’s anything but.
Nerves take over when I hang up the phone and make my way to my car. It’s not as bad as it seems?
