Page 53 of Songbird
“It’s a little exposed,” I explain. “We all know how to keep our mouths shut—even Daisy, thanks to growing up with a famous hockey player for a big brother—but I can’t promise that Izzy won’t let something slip at school or her extracurricular activities. She’s only six, and I don’t feel comfortable asking her to keep secrets. And it won’t be just my brothers and sisters. Violet’s dad will be there too. Possibly Poppy’s mom. They’re good people, but even good people can unintentionally do the wrong thing.”
Rosie draws her bottom lip between her teeth, nibbling the pink pillow as she contemplates her next steps, completely unaware that one little action has my dick fighting for freedom. I try not to squirm.
“Finn.” She adds her other hand to mine, trapping my fingers between her palms. “I’ve been off the grid for three weeks, and as much as I love it here, I can’t stay forever. We’ve been avoiding the obvious, but…” Her shoulders drop, and she gives me a regretful half-smile. “I can’t hide out much longer. The last lot of security personnel you sent me were good enough to hire, and my record label is connecting me with a new publicist and legal team.” She studies my hand in hers, tracing the veins underneath my skin as her voice grows quiet. “It’s probably time for me to go back to LA.”
eighteen
Finn
Mythroatisdryand my stomach is in knots, but I don’t know what I expected. Rosie was always going to return to her world and leave me behind, and I’m proud that she’s gathered enough strength to do it, but beneath that is panic. How do I know she’ll be safe on her own? How am I supposed to live without her?
I clear my throat, but keeping my voice even takes effort. “There’s still the problem of the guy from New Orleans. We don’t know where he is or if he’s planning something.”
Rosie drops her head to one side. “And we may never know,” she says gently.
“Yeah.” I look at our hands, noting the smooth softness of hers against the rough texture of mine. She doesn’t belong here. We both know it even if neither of us wants to say it. “Maybe.”
Rosie lifts her chin, shaking off the gloom of our conversation. “But we don’t need to talk about that now, and I can delay long enough to meet your family. Game nights for me growing up were only ever playing gin rummy with my grandmother. Yours sound a lot more, uh… energetic?”
I snort. “They’re pretty low-key, but yeah, they’re kind of fun.”
“So… can we go?”
She bounces with enthusiasm, which means it’s impossible to disappoint her. I shake my head, adoration tugging at my mouth, as I swipe to open my phone and return Dylan’s call.
“Put it on speaker,” she whispers as she squirms against me, and I can’t quite believe she’s this invested in a night with my siblings.
I hit the microphone icon, and the sound of an outgoing call reverberates around the cabin.
“Bro,” Dylan says on the other end of the line. “I was twelve hours away from doing a welfare check. Everything all right?”
I cast a look toward Rosie to make sure she knows Dylan’s joking, but her brow creases. In the background of the call, the noises of a commercial kitchen fade as Dylan moves to a quieter location at our family restaurant, The Hill at Silver Leaf Ranch.
“Sorry about that,” I reply. “I’ve, uh… I’ve been busy.”
“Oh, yeah? What’s going on?”
“I relaid Dad’s flagstone path down to the river dock,” I tell him.
“It took two weeks? Man. You should have said something. I’d have come down there to help out.”
“Nah. I had it under control.”
“Charlie mentioned you’ve been focused on your own projects and made us promise to give you a few days to yourself, but Izzy’s planning another family night. Are you up for it?”
I throw a cautious look at Rosie, a warning that this is her final chance to back out. She digs her fingers into my bicep, nodding as she tries to shake a reply out of me.
“Yeah. Of course, bro. Wouldn’t miss it, but…”
“But?”
“But I’m going to bring someone. You think Izzy will be all right with that?”
There’s a beat of silence that lasts a little too long, and I share a puzzled look with Rosie.
“You still there?” I ask.
Dylan laughs. “Fuck, yeah. You got yourself a girl? About time.”
