Benny waited.
“I’ve been involved with Vic,” she said plainly.“It’s not casual anymore.Hell, it probably never was.I’m just waiting for a chance to tell him.To talk to him.I’ve been a fool, and I need to make up for it.If that’s going to be a problem—if it messes with band dynamics or makes things weird—then count me out.I’ll walk away from the collaboration right now.Vic matters more.”
Benny stared at her for a long moment, surprise flickering across his face.Then his expression softened into something almost fond.
“Damn,” he said quietly.“Anybody with eyes could see that one coming.”He rubbed the back of his neck.“But no...it’s not a deal-killer.Not for me.Vic’s solid.One of the best things that’s happened to this band.If you two have something real, I’m not getting in the way of that.”
Relief flooded through her so fast her knees almost buckled.
Benny studied her for another second.“He’s in love with you, you know.”
Bonnie looked away.“Yeah.I know.”
“You gonna do anything about that?”
She let out a shaky laugh.“Working on it.”
Benny smiled—small, understanding.“Good.Because that man deserves someone who’s willing to fight for him.”
She swallowed hard.“I’m starting to figure that out.”
Later, Bonnie sat in the driver’s seat of her van outside Slate’s studio, engine off, windows rolled down to let the late-afternoon breeze cut through the heat.Her hands still trembled slightly on the steering wheel.The tryout had gone perfectly—the result of a couple of nights cramming for the test.She’d killed every track they threw at her, harmonized with Benny like they’d been singing together for years, and even managed to make him laugh during the bridge of the new six-minute epic.Benny had given her that quiet, approving nod that meant more than any contract.Mitty had already started talking tour logistics.
It should’ve felt like a win.
Instead, her stomach was in knots.
She pulled out her phone and opened the shared calendar she’d been staring at for the last two weeks.Her band’s scattered club dates.OY’s tightening rehearsal and recording schedule.The handful of festivals she’d been chasing for months.And now—layered on top of all of it—the collaborative tracks and potential tour support slots with Occupy Yourself.
There was no way to make it all fit.
She tried again, dragging gigs around like puzzle pieces that refused to lock together.A Thursday night in Louisville for her band overlapped with an OY tracking session in Nashville.A weekend run through the Carolinas she’d booked six months ago slammed straight into the first leg of OY’s comeback dates.Even if she handed off more shows to her guys, even if she begged Meg for a few favors, something would have to give.
She couldn’t run her own band, chase down the gigs that kept the lights on, show up for OY the way they deserved,andbe with Vic.
Not all at once.
The realization settled heavy in her chest, sharp as a broken string.
Vic.
She could still feel the ghost of his hands on her skin from the last time they’d been together.The way he’d looked at her today when he thought she wasn’t watching—steady, patient, like he was willing to wait forever if that’s what she needed.He’d said he loved her, and she’d thrown him out like he was just another guy who didn’t understand the rules.
She missed him so much it hurt.
But missing him didn’t magically create more hours in the day.It didn’t fix the fact that her band was already starting to fray at the edges because she was splitting herself in too many directions.It didn’t change the reality that if she committed to OY the way they needed her to, her own career—the one she’d bled for since she was nineteen—would take a back seat.Again.
Bonnie leaned her head back against the seat and closed her eyes.
She was so fucking tired of choosing.
Tired of being the one who always had to make the hard calls, the one who held everyone else up for a gasp of air while pretending she wasn’t drowning.For once she wanted to be selfish.She wanted the musicandthe man.She wanted the late nights in the studio with Vic’s steady groove anchoring her and the mornings when she didn’t have to kick him out before the sun came up.
But wanting something and making it work were two different things.
Her phone buzzed.A text from Leo asking if she’d confirmed the next club date.
She stared at the screen until the words blurred.
