Page 98 of Need You Now

But then you leaned down

Girl, the dip of your lips to mine

I still don’t think I’ve ever felt more damn alive

What’s the point of this ol’ life

If we don’t do it together

Because, girl, I’m needin’ you, needin’ you, needin’ you now

Needin’ you now and forever

One line, then two. It comes like instinct. Automatic and trancelike. Before he knows it, he has a song. Rough, raw, but it’s there.

“Fuck,” he swears when he reads it over, realization dawning.

It’s about Lacey.

He wrote a goddamn song about Lacey.

Of course he did. She put the beat back in his chest. She’s got him fucked up, heart on his sleeve, on his knees. Got herself stuck like a damn melody in his head and the only way to get her out is to write.

Groaning, he puts the notepad down and buries his face in his hands. Hell, he’s as bad as Luke.

At the crack of the door, Seth glances up. Luke and Jace saunter in, a case of beer in Jace’s hand. The lift of their brows tells Seth they’re surprised he’s already there.

“Seth Kincaid, gettin’ a head start on practice,” Jace drawls. “Never thought I’d see the day.”

“Hey, Luke’s the real overachiever,” Seth says. “Settin’ up a gig while we’re on vacation. Damn shame, man.”

Luke grins. “Can’t get rusty.” He strides for his guitar, picking it up and dropping onto a stool. “We gotta crank out the album after the new year.” He shakes his head, a hint of irritation sideswiping his cheerful tone. “I hate rushin’ it.”

Seth swallows as he’s hit by a guilty reminder that this is all his fuckin’ fault. Recording with famed producer Devlon Block is a gigantic leap for the band, and they wouldn’t be behind if he hadn’t started that damn bar fight. If he hadn’t taken his sweet-ass time out in California.

“We got all the songs,” Jace says, ever the steady presence. “We’ll get it done, man.”

Luke nods, his alert eyes falling on Seth’s notepad. “Whatcha got?”

“Nothin’, it’s—”

But it’s too late. Luke’s standing, sliding the notepad toward him, his gaze scanning the lyrics as Jace reads over his shoulder.

“It’s good,” Luke says when he’s finished. A smile tugs at his lips. “Who’s it for?”

Seth scowls. He should have hidden that damn song the second the two of them walked in. Leave it to Luke to laser in on the whole love angle. “No one. It’s just a song.”

Jace snorts. “That ain’t just a song, man. You don’t write a song like that without inspiration.” He grins. “You meet someone pretty out in LA, Seth?”

Seth glowers, hating him.

Only Luke’s quiet, watching him close, curious.

Seth slaps down a pencil. “We gonna get to work or bust my balls all day?”

Luke’s smile reappears. His brother’s back. His band’s here. “Let’s fire it up,” he says, strumming a couple chords to kick them off.

The Brothers Kincaid work the rest of the afternoon, furiously pitching album titles, jamming out, scribbling the last few songs they need for the album. Finally, around three p.m. they call it quits.

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