My drummer runs his hand over his hair, his fohawk gaining an all new texture to it with the strands clinging together. I’m a seriously lucky girl. I’m not sure what I did to earn myself a group of men who are perfect for me, but I’m thankful for it.
Fingers land under my chin, redirecting my attention. Nash licks his lip ring before giving me a panty melting smirk. “Are you done procrastinating yet?”
As much as we wanted to stay outside in the fresh air, our soaked clothes said otherwise. I probably didn’t think that one through, then again, I was doing anything I could to avoid sharing my lyrics with them.
There’s a chance I’m still a little gun shy from how painful it was when Tristan twisted my words into a weapon against me.
Fuck. Where is he?
Darius finishes setting up the phones to record the process of us creating a song. Although I’m doing my best to ignore them. I don’t need another thing in my head making it harder to share my lines.
I unlock my phone and text Izzy for an update and drop the device to the cushion beside me to grab a cup of coffee from Keaton. Taking a sip, I smile at him with how closely it tastes to how I make it. He’s been watching how I do it, even as he makes us breakfast.
“Thanks, big guy,” I say as he leans down to kiss the top of my head.
“Arms up, roomie,” Nash orders. A moment later, my cup of coffee is taken out of my hold and his sweatshirt surrounds me, smelling just like him. It’s like getting a constant hug from him. He flops onto the couch next to me and bites at his lip ring while grabbing his guitar.
Not even a second later, Blake drops a blanket around my shoulders and rubs his hands along my arms, working warmth into them.
Tilting my head back, I smile at him, feeling all kinds of love from all my guys. They are going above and beyond with their affection today. Especially considering Darius is in front of us.
“Hey, what happened to my coffee?” I ask, my lip popping out in a pout.
The sweet sound of Blake’s laugh falls on me. “I think your one true love will always remain coffee.”
This time, Keaton’s rare laugh draws all our attention, every head in the bus turns to take it in. “Why do you think I made her one?”
“Smart man. He plays dirty.” Nash gives a fake scowl toward his best friend, then runs his fingers over the strings, checking his instrument is tuned.
Blake grabs my cup and hands it to me, giving my forehead a kiss before I move. His hand slips to the side of my neck, soothing his thumb back and forth.
“Okay, I’ve asked once and never got an answer, so I’m asking again,” Darius says, his gaze traveling over each of us before he lands on me, tilting his head to the side and studying me like he can extract the answer. “Which one of them are you dating?”
I’m not surprised he’s asking. Although I’d think it was clear by now. It’s not like we’ve been hiding as well as we were at first. We really should be protecting ourselves from the threat Dickless gave about Darius keeping us in line, whatever thatmeans. But then again, he is so damn genuine I can’t see him selling me out, not like that asshole implied.
“Wouldn’t you like to know?” I give him an exaggerated wink, and he throws his hands into the air.
“I’ll keep your secrets, Raina. Not like I’d want to share something that would lose me the title of your fake boyfriend.” His voice holds equal parts honesty and tension, making me frown and study him closer.
“Ready to show us those lyrics, roomie?” Nash asks, bringing my attention back to what we’re supposed to be doing. The mere thought ignites a blazing inferno in my stomach.
I reach for my notebook and hold it in my lap, staring at it for a long moment. This is such a big step. These songs were therapy for me, a piece of my soul woven within each and every one.
The silence stretches until it becomes uncomfortable, and yet nobody says anything, like they know I’m coming to terms with it. Taking a deep breath, I look up. Of course the only person I see is Darius, which makes my nerves even worse.
Keaton steps into my view, holding his sticks in front of him with one hand on top of the other, pinned close to his chest. He gives me a slight nod, a reassurance that everything will be okay.You can do this.
“They’re good, baby. What has you all shy?” Nash whispers, but with how close everyone is, they can all hear.
The confidence is nice, but he hasn’t read them all. I didn’t even want him to read what he did over my shoulder.Can you even use that phrase if they were sitting next to you?
Lifting the notebook to my chest, I hold it close to my heart, protecting the words for a little longer. “These songs aren’t like anything I’ve ever written before.”
After a pause when I don’t continue, Blake says, “That’s a good thing, though, isn’t it? You don’t want to be stagnant in your music. You’re not the same sixteen-year-old who put outfirstlovesongs or the eighteen-year-old with thebreak up balladsor the twenty-year-old withparty anthems.”
“Hey, all of those were excellent phases! Your music has always been amazing,” Darius adds.
“You’re showing off your fanboy status, D. Might want to be careful with that,” Nash says with a snicker. I wasn’t even sure they heard that confession.
