Page 52 of Songbird
I perk up at this, thinking it doesn’t sound so bad, but then Rosie rolls her head back to grin up at me.
“But Finn? That’s not me. I love the rush of performing. Maybe that makes me shallow, and yes, it’s a fickle measure of validation, but nothing compares.” Her eyes grow bright and her back straightens, like she’s reliving a moment on stage. “The lights and the energy. Thousands of people screaming my name. Those same people singing along to songs that started as a tiny spark in my soul and now burn bright in the hearts of so many others. The humanity of it. The connection. Reaching people and validatingthem. Changingthem. Yes, I’ll always make music, but I also want to share it. What use is art if we don’t give it to the people who need it most?”
Rosie makes sense, and even the uplift in her tone tells me that she’ll never walk away from the stage. Not that she should, and not that I’d ask her to, but it makes her life and mine thatmuch more incompatible. I live in a one-bedroom bungalow on a property I share with four brothers and sisters. Charles pays me a salary, but I barely touch it because my costs are covered by the family business. Ten days ago, my sole purpose in life was digging up twenty feet of old flagstone. Today it’s making this beautiful woman come.
Empty hands. That’s all I have to offer.
I slip my fingers into hers and lift her knuckles to my lips. “You’re stunning on stage,” I tell her. “You belong up there.”
She shoots me a puzzled smile before understanding falls across her features. “You mean the shows you saw on the tour.”
I tilt my head side to side. “Those and every clip I could find on YouTube and social media of you performing on the tour. Before the tour. After it. In bars and in stadiums. On television. I think I’ve seen everything there is to see and you’re unforgettable in every single one.”
Rosie feigns a gasp and then pokes me playfully in the ribs. “Have you been stalking me, sir?”
I snatch her hand and hold it against my chest, hoping she can feel how steady my heart beats beneath our palms. Always the truth.
“I couldn’t stop caring even afterhekicked me off your security team. I watched it all. Your performances. Your social media. Interviews. News reports. I kept an eye on you as best I could. I promise.”
Tears fill her eyes as Rosie glides her hand around my neck and pulls me down for a kiss. It’s deep and soft and slow. A taste of what’s to come the next time I get her naked.
She pulls away just enough to press her forehead to mine. “Thank you.”
I slip my hand under the hem of Rosie’s shirt, palm skating the smooth length of her thigh. She moans and shifts to give me greater access, and I glance at Dakota over her shoulder,who’s watching with liquid eyes that are more curious than I’m comfortable with.
“Hey, Songbird,” I murmur before kissing her again. “Why don’t we—”
My phone chooses that moment to light up with a call from my brother, and the vibration makes it scoot sideways along the coffee table.
“He won’t give up,” I grumble as I reach over to reject the call, but Rosie stops me with a hand on my forearm.
“Has he been trying to reach you?”
“Yeah.” I pick up the phone and let it vibrate in my palm. “A couple texts the last few days. There’s a thing happening up at the main house tomorrow evening and he wants to make sure I’ll be there, but—”
“What kind ofthing?”
“Izzy, my niece, puts on family nights where we get together for dinner and games or whatever she wants to do. Dylan’s trying to pin me down, but I can’t go and I can’t tell him why, so I’ve been an asshole and avoided him. He’ll get the hint.”
Rosie twists her fingers in my hair. The phone grows still in my hand, and my dick takes both as positive encouragement. I set the device aside and resume exploring Rosie’s upper thighs.
“You should go,” she says even as she offers me the hollow of her throat to kiss.
“To the house?” I mumble against her sweet skin. “No. I’m not leaving you here.”
“I’m not suggesting you do.”
I nip at her earlobe then kiss the soft skin at the juncture of her jaw, and Rosie sighs, pretty and needy enough to send blood bolting for my crotch.
“I’ll go with you.”
“You’ll…” It takes a second for her suggestion to pierce the sex-fog, and when it does, I sit back. “You want to go with me? To family night? At the Davenport house?”
“Yes?” Rosie narrows her eyes cautiously. “Why? You say it like it’s a bad thing.”
“Not at all. I mean, they’ll give me shit for bringing a girl, but that’s to be expected. You’ve already met Chord and Violet and Charles, so that’s a third of the family already done. It’s just…”
She picks up my free hand and gives it a supportive squeeze. “Just what?”
