Page 62 of The Lyrics of Love

“I don’t like a full belly when I’m in the studio,” he explained. “It affects my voice. That’s why I wouldn’t eat for several hours before going onstage. Then I’d devour everything in sight once a show ended.”

Nash ate about two-thirds of the split portion, along with a salad. He skipped the bread basket, though the garlic rolls tempted him. They arrived back in the studio and the receptionist told them to make use of the break room, which was stocked with soft drinks, coffee, and sparkling waters, along with snacks such as pretzels and nuts.

“Are you getting bored?” he asked Rylie, after they’d grabbed something to drink.

“Not in the least. But I can see this session may go on for a while. I may need to head back to the Cove on my own.”

“Nope. I’ve already told the guys we’re done at five-thirty today. It’s probably what has Dart in such a pissy mood. I’ve told him today was an exception. That we’ll start at nine each morning and go until five.”

“You aren’t doing this because of me, are you?” she asked, worry spreading across her face.

“Nope. For me,” he assured her. “I like the hours I’ve been keeping. I feel better physically and mentally. I get a lot done getting up early and hitting the sack early. If the guys want to play with me, they’ll adjust. Billy is fine with it. He said it follows his normal routine when we’re not together recording or touring. Wills is pretty low-key and will go along with whatever schedule I set up. Dart is the temperamental one.”

“Do you think he would walk out on you?”

“If he did, I would hate to see him go. He’s a fabulous bass guitarist—but he’s not the only one out there. In fact, I’ve already told Chuck to work on lining up someone new in case that very scenario plays out. My gut tells me Dart will hang with us this time, but I think he may wish to find someone else to play with down the line.”

Nash dropped Rylie at the booth and returned to the studio. Billy and Wills were already there, tinkering with the bridge of one of the songs. He joined them, listening to the changes they were making, and approving them. He waved for Jarrod to join them, and the young songwriter made a small but critical contribution. Suddenly, it all came together.

Dart arrived and they briefed him before playing the song once. The rest of the afternoon was productive. They rehearsed four songs, recording two, with plans to record the other two first thing the next morning. Nash called it a day.

“Thanks for your work, everyone,” he told those in the studio and in the recording booth. “I think we got a ton done today.”

“We’ll stay after, Nash,” Lars told him. “You should have a clean cut of Mistake to listen to first thing in the morning.”

“Then I’ll be here early for that. You guys good?” he asked, looking at his bandmates.

“Dart and I are renting an Airbnb,” Wills said. “Right in the heart of downtown Portland. Some great restaurants and clubs around it.” He held up a hand. “I know. Keep decent hours since you’re on your Oregon kick. Hell, the next thing you’ll have us doing is eating hummus and doing yoga.”

“Hey, I’ve actually started doing yoga while I’m here,” he said. “It’s energizing and relaxing at the same time. And I’ve learned to do stand-up paddleboarding.”

“Seriously?” Wills asked. “I’ve seen that. It looks like fun.”

He laughed. “I don’t think you have the attention span for it, Wills.”

“Come on, Wills,” Dart said. “Let get out of here.”

“Nice meeting you, Rylie,” Wills said to Rylie, who had slipped into the room.

“I enjoyed meeting you, too, Wills. You really can tear up a keyboard.”

Wills followed Dart, who stormed off in silence.

“Don’t let Dart get to you, Rylie,” Billy said. “He’s fantastic at what he does, but Dart lives up to the stereotypical temperamental artist rep. See you guys tomorrow.”

Nash wrapped his arms around Rylie. “I’m glad you got to see me work today. Sorry it took your entire day off.”

“It went by quickly,” she told him, before he cut her off with a kiss.

“Let’s get out of here.”

They collected Pops and drove back to the Cove. Nash lamented that Buttercup Bakery wouldn’t be open because he had wanted his grandfather to try some of Ainsley’s desserts.

“That’s okay,” Rylie said. “Pops mentioned it to me. I texted Ainsley. She said she would leave some cupcakes and cake pops on your porch.”

Her phone rang. “Excuse me. Hi, Carter. No, we actually just left the recording studio. Nash wants to keep to regular hours while rehearsing and recording.” She laughed. “At least regular hours that normal people follow. I’m not so sure all his band members were happy about the new policy.”

She paused. “That would be so nice of you. We should be in the Cove in another forty minutes or so. See you then.”

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